Two years ago, I felt my dreams drifting off my hands. It’s like a key of destiny with no door to open or pad to unlock. Gradually, I Kingsley Afonughe started losing the pen that makes me a writer. I wouldn’t say anything has brought me back to the pages I have neglected for years. I was sorry for myself and I scoff at the laughter and scorn from others towards me.
Although, those of so called friends who never wanted an habit of giving up they kept fueling the zeal but the magical turn up wouldn’t happen. But then here I am, back with another powerful weapon to wield. See it is not about motivation, it is a reality I realise I can’t escape from. I am a writer and this is me. And it feels good to be back? It is magical!
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