Poetic Diaries

When writing is all  you have and the product whether abandoned or finished is the only potent thing in your life, one is left at crossroads on whether to actively pursue writing to its entirety or gobble around with shrewd poetics and lounge in the unbalanced bed of prose. I may be a writer and consistently show my budding self the door of enlightenment by seeking advice and cultivating my pen. With recognition being a lifelong process or a substance of luck rather than hardwork, the shady aspect of motivation dwindles by the day. verily, people will argue like Rilke that if it isn’t something from inside you that commands you to write then you should probably thrown your ambitions into the tumultuous waters of failure.

Some differences arise from the theory of perception; whether you are a ‘conceptual writer living in post modernism’ or ‘a universal writer inured in the theory of humanity.’ the collisions are far more sporadic than the mere aspect of trying to regurgitate a single definition of the aforementioned phrases. The conundrum is blazed with the functional term of being “An African writer” merely from the sheer aspect of birth something to be likened to accidental imprint in the sands of time. I stem out of the girth screaming each time on the compartment-ability (sic) thrown upon and actually embraced by our writers. All these are tolerated because “we should tell our stories as descents of this marvellous continent.” While that is a glorious endeavour the conceptuality of this kind of reasoning rids us of the philosophical argument of want and chance.

In futurology how we advance and record our own stories is the core mandate of writers but something radioactive always pours out when angry African writers implore that they wouldn’t be who they are without having told the stories they told. It’s a good argument but if a writer from Africa decides to write about emerging trends of global topics as love or sex or nuclear technology, why should the writer be frowned upon for abandoning documenting African ever evolving history? This conundrum elevates when one isn’t able to dialect his/her writing or linearly manifest his/her writing in something subtly African. Where is the problem? it grows when we negate that great literature is universal rather than pursuing the conditioned and accepted thread that might get one an award for literature in Africa globally.

Personally, I may be perceived as a weak, culturally tenable but partially brainwashed aspiring writer or no writer at all but how I seek to tell my story is how I feel it better to tell. Awards ferment a writer or no at all and if that is the sell out for the most potent writer then I’d be fooled into laughing in the rectum of a mad cow. I live in the underground shanties with my fellow group of young writers never in the urge to copy paste the standing battle of writers’ identity. The definition alone is a muck we wince at. What we do is write as much and as best as we can, never stopping to practise, share and converse. We however have to deal with the giant serpent of the shadows set with our acclaimed writers who will give us funny writing tips and continually masquerade under one title. I for no doubt castigate their efforts as this is one huge task but seek to help us disenfranchise the giant cloud that has prevented the African writer from staring eye to eye with the sun.

There are stories all over and we have people who are destroying it but people are trying and without a doubt the beauty of literature is currently on reformation and my generation will emerge out of the woodwork. We must learn to disintegrate from the conceptuality practitioners of African writing and work towards telling our stories as we deem fit. Literary criticism is a forte of power and to my fellow young aspiring writers we must collectively pay attention to what critics say but only use what will help us. I certainly think that individually, I have managed to grow in my poetic journey because of criticism but if one were to buy into the whole critic’s theory then one would be in an amorphous ICU.


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