A lot is bound to happen when you make up a decision in life you know is going to change the outcome of your future. No way you can know about it at that early. Such things never really start to manifest right away, but trust me they do. Hard to imagine that all the Success books you read just never seem to prepare you for it.
A lot of things went toward the decision I took to change the route of my life. For one thing, we humans all live our life in the form of a circle: we grow old, parents ship us off to school, we graduate, we find ourselves jobs, we start a family of our own, we grow old . . . and then begin the same circle with our little ones. And even when you break things down to a sub-level, you encounter a similar circle each day: you wake up – breakfast – head off to work – lunch – you crunch the numbers, you return home – dinner – sleep. The same thing repeats itself the next day, and the day after . . . till one day you realize your whole life has been like a mouse running in a Ferris wheel.
My desire was to break the circle I was in and hopefully find myself in a new one. I wanted to start doing stuff I love doing. See places I only saw in my dreams, and experience things the average Nigerian has never once thought about. Sounds far-fetched, and don’t worry, I wasn’t dreaming about becoming an astronaut to go space-walking.
I wanted to tell stories. Stories folks in the western world and elsewhere haven’t heard.
How easy was it for me to make this decision? Tough. It’s not easy for one to just quit his job and walk away from it on faith alone. But already there were factors happening that sort of eased the burden of me making it. For one thing, I was getting fed up with the job I was working, and needed something new. The work was affecting my health, and seeing too much death around you can make you change your mind seriously on doing something else. Also I felt it time I took my writing serious. Who knew if ever such moment would pass my way again?
This happened after February, 2012. My date of quitting was June, because I wanted to spend my upcoming birthday in the States. I didn’t tell my colleagues, because I knew they would have done their best to prevent me from quitting. God knows I was tired working with them and just wanted to see new faces elsewhere.
One major question my few friends threw at me: What were my chances of succeeding in what I intended? The truth was I had no idea. None whatsoever. All I knew was I had a manuscript, THE RABBIT’S MAN, growing old each year inside my cabinet drawer. It’s hard finding an editor in my country, let alone one who took the job professionally, and I needed someone to look at my manuscript with a professional eye and opinion. The work was far from being clean or near perfection. No way was I going to get that done as long as I remained in my country. And like I’d earlier said: my job was killing me. What were my chances of success? None. Zero. Ziltch!
But I knew I just had to try. At least for that, I knew I wasn’t going to fail, not unless I turned chicken and ran back to my former boss to give me my old job back. I decided to break the circle of my life and venture into the great unknown. Or like that classic Robert Frost poem, I took the road less traveled. Has it made all the difference? Yes, I believe so!
I travel toward the sunset!