Kindly design as pleased

I remember standing at the entrance of the University of Lagos, staff school after my final paper, a daunting realization washed over me like a wave – there would no longer be structured classes, assessments, or exams to guide my daily existence. The safety net of academic life, with its clear instructions and a safety harness of elders' guidance, was replaced by a vast unknown. The time had come for me to adult, craft my path and, more importantly, bear the full weight of my decisions and their consequences.

During my last year of university, I dedicated time to exploring the myriad career options laid out before me. I had sketched out what seemed like a meticulous plan for my future. However, as every seasoned traveller knows, it's one thing to draw the map, and another entirely to navigate the terrain.

Graduating with honours (Magna Cum Laude) had me anticipating a smooth transition into the world of work, with jobs supposedly lining up at my doorstep (so I was told in school). Imagine the rude awakening when, for two weeks straight, I waited for a response from all the applications I had put in, but that never came.

At that moment, I realized that the tune had changed.

No one was coming to my rescue.

This is real life where grades on paper don't outrightly translate to skills. This was my turning point. It was time to roll up my sleeves and get to work.?

My first step involved research, connecting with colleagues who were well-versed in the industry I was passionate about. I remember shooting messages to my egbons Bankole Banjo ANIPR, ANIMN , 'Deoye Falade , Oluwaferanmi Ajetomobi and Charles Isidi (and more) with loads of questions on marketing, media and how to wade through the noise to stay relevant.

Another part of my work included shedding the sense of entitlement that had subtly taken root in me while in school and relearning.

Burning the midnight candles doesn't end in school.

My story, however, is not just one about the chasm that often exists between academia and the labour market; it's about personal agency.

There will be no benevolent saviour swooping in to jolt you back to reality or to chase the dreams and goals you've set for yourself. No one is coming.

This realisation has helped me out of situations I considered dire. There’s an Igbo adage that says "mgbe e nibe nwata ka ? zuru ike, ? na-at?ghar? onwe ya n'?n?d? d? mma kar?a". This loosely translates to mean, that when you lay a child down to rest, she keeps tossing and turning until she gets comfortable.

You’re not stuck. You’re not stagnant.

The canvas of life is yours, and you hold the brush. You have the power to design your future as you see fit. It may be shocking, but it's also profoundly liberating. As I embraced this truth, I began to sculpt my own path and navigate the complexities of the real world.

As I turn a year older, today, I acknowledge my journey, guided not by a sense of entitlement but by gratitude, awareness and a determination to take charge of my craft.

In the last year, I have worked on a good number of projects that have stretched and frightened me, one of which premiered in April: The Ingressive For Good Documentary. While the others are still in the works, (I can't wait to show you), one thing I am learning to do the most, is to lean into who I am and starve my insecurities.

In the grand tapestry of life, the most compelling stories are not written by those who wait for someone else to hold the pen. They are penned by individuals who step forward and inscribe their own narratives. If you’re like me, carving a path of your own with your numerous interests,?keep tossing and turning till you find a suitable position for yourself.

That’d be all from me today.