Thursday, 29 July 2021

Letter from Myself in 2030 (8)

                                         1, Power House Street,
                                 Airport Area,
                 Kwara State.
 3rd June, 2020.
      Dear Precious,
The entire world is crippled and is seriously mourning the demise of a potential and ancient key. I humbly write this letter to you to succinctly tell you the whereabouts of that key that could have saved our beautiful world and united her innocent children.
The lost of the key has caused the death of so many warriors and giants, professors and philosophers─ those that could have lessened our burden and proffered some solutions to the hardship that betide the world. The key is ‘help’, yes I mean ‘help’. The painful death of my father elucidated some chapters of the state of the world to me. I watched my helpless mother writhe in pain and I was feeble to lift her up. I failed several times when I was in high school because I couldn’t afford the school fees. But one thing held me strong to life then─ that's hope.
Virtually everyone in Nigeria has a common maxim, ‘I worked and suffered to gather my money; you also must suffer to succeed’. That has really punctured my mind cum the nonchalant attitude of the rich around me who never raised their finger to assist anyone. I couldn’t afford the payment for university admission. But when I discovered that my life was going stinking, I pulled myself together and decided to stand alone and combat the lonely battle of life. A couple of years ago, I ventured into writing short poems and stories for schools in my area. I earned some money writing and developing some headlines for some firms and schools. I carefully utilized the proceeds to procure a mini laptop. I subscribed for data to surf the internet and registered at some websites that offer some writing jobs as a freelancer. I got some dollars in a month which my mother and I lived on to survive.
Year 2030 is wiping my tears away. I was recently offered admission to study International Relation in a university in Nigeria and I hope to pay the admission fees from some money I saved in bank.
Fortunately, about two months ago, I saw the advert of the annual essay competition organized by Goi Foundation and hosted in Japan. When I read the theme for the year, I was very excited that I would be able to write a purposeful letter to my wretched and sad self in 2020 and to tell the entire people in the world that the core state of the world is seriously mourning for her lost key. I never knew what would have become of me if I had given up. I have been able to help many organizations locally and internationally via my writing skill. I have assisted students in high schools succeed in their final examinations through coaching them on the correct rudiments to an excellent writing.
Although I am yet to arrive at some more interesting junctures in my writing career, but I have this crucial message for the entire folks in the world: if most people that died yesterday were helped at some points in their lives, they might perhaps, be alive today and doing great. We’ll always have the poor to assist around us. Don’t close your eyes at them; listen to their cry; wipe their tears and bandage their wounds. If there’s nothing for you to do on earth, please, rent a shop and start offering help of any kind to people and I tell you, your least generation would be glad you did and be plentifully rewarded.
My dear self in 2020, please don’t give up. Stand tall and firm. Allow not your back to remain on the ground because of your poor background. I hope to hear from you soon when you finally succeeded. God bless you.
                                                   Yours sincerely,

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