Emi ni tin je emi ni. Ni ilu AOTEAROA: On Being a Writer

It's not easy being the last of four kids.

Especially when you know your parents were planning on three.

The plan worked sufficiently long enough that my older siblings are closer in age between them than they are with me. Of course, I became the apple of my mother's eye and pretty much got away with anything short of murder as a little kid. In later years I would console myself with the fact that my existence was proof of an indomitable spirit and a pre-destined purpose upon the face of the earth. And my wonderful siblings always pointed to the answer little Gretl - the last child of the Von Trapp family in the Sound of Music - got when she asked, "Why am I always last?"

"Because you are the most special"

So although I was always able to wangle the attention I wanted as the 'baby of the house', that attention wasnt quite what I started to crave as early as my pre-teen years.

Respect.

My biggest advantage was also my biggest cross. If I was too young to do 'that kind of heavy house-work' I was certainly too young to be allowed to go on my own to the next street to play with my friends. Not without my big brother to watch over me. By the time I cottoned on to the fact that I would have to take on all the responsibilities of an adult if I wanted to be treated as one, I had a mountain to climb.

For instance, my big brother got to take the car out at a much younger age than I. As a matter of fact, the first time I took the car out on my own (at 18!!!) I had to do it without permission and damn the consequences (an ass-whupping!). But this just illustrates the point.

I was forever wanting to tag along with my brother when we were kids and he always said No! I think my big sister finally stopped seeing me solely as her 'baby brother' when I asked if I could use her house for my Valentine Day celeberations a few years ago when I was visiting her in London! My other sister, when she had her first baby, declared that I would likely be a play buddy for her son rather than an uncle. Never mind there is a 20 year age difference! (Although my nephew has some of the coolest games to play)

But what has all this got to do with being a writer?

Well, AIESEC the organization has played more than a significant role in my evolution as a person. Here was this group of extremely smart and idealistic young people my age and I found that I had a natural aptitude to charm and acquire (and bask) in the attention I got. AND because I was also able to participate in the serious discussions and plans of changing the world, I got respect as well!

There was nothing more satisfying than developing an agenda for a 5-day conference for university students and then going on before a hall full of them and delivering the developed sessions. You shared your own experiences, borrowed concepts from your partner corporate organizations and wrapped it all in an easy, no-pressure, facilitating mode of delivery!

I seriously miss those days.

But my blog has suddenly opened up a new avenue. You could argue that the delegates at those AIESEC conferences couldnt help who came up before them to explain how to change an individual's life by sending him abroad to work. They were interested in the message and not necessarily the messenger. (Maybe some people drew delegates to conferences just by being on the Facilitator's list but I dont think so!)

A blog is significantly different from preparing a session on Brand Communication. Most blogs are just a run-down of an individual's day-to-day activities and would probably attract only that individual's close friends and family. A fewer number of blogs are specialised on a particular topic/area/industry and are written by experts in these fields. These ones draw a wider audience, again because of the message

And even fewer are a combination of both categories above. A blog that shares day-to-day activities of the person involved BUT still passes across a subliminal message. That message could be philosophical, educational, social or just plain humorous.

I cannot claim to be an expert in any field. Yet. But I have had at least 4 friends email/txt/call me to ask why I havent posted on my blog for such an extended period. That - and here comes the unbelievable part - they miss my posts! For the sake of arguement, let us say these four are blinded by my friendship with them. They will read my blog no matter what. But what do you make of the emails I got from Lebanon and Colorado US from perfect strangers asking me why there was no activity on my blog??!!

Reading a blog is a conscious thing. You start-up your computer, open an internet browser, type in the address (or click on it in your favorites) and settle down to read. The fact there is ONE individual (never mind two) who I havent met reading my inane writings...!!!

Way beyond cool!

This is attention AND respect on a whole new level. How must an individual like J.K Rowling feel when she browses the internet and sees the independent websites - nay... the industry! - that has sprung up to discuss/criticize/analyze/exploit/inform/mis-inform/praise the adventures of the teenage boy-wizard she created. All the while making tons of money of course!

I have always had a fertile imagination. I like to think I have a way with words. Verbally and in writing. I think its very satisfying to create - write - something that other people will consume (read) AND enjoy consuming (reading). And while they enjoy it, you can plant any number of ideas, messages or teachings within the prose you have created. Ideas/Messages/teachings that can go on to trigger a chain reaction, get people to act, to change or demand change...

...but now I am getting carried away!

One key aspect of being an agent of change is to first find something you care very deeply about. Then evaluate what things you are very good at. And then try and marry these two together. I care very deeply about a lot of things. Family, Football, Politics, Good Governance and how to make a million dollars without stirring off your bum.

And I am very good at talking. And writing. Hmmmm...

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SHARING MY FRIENDS

NAME: Segun Yewande and Toyin

Time I have known them: My Whole Life

Memorable Moments with Them:

SEGUN/

LOCATION: Lagos Nigeria (National Business Development Mgr DHL/DPWN Nigeria)
I was a freshman in university and my brother was already in his 3rd year in the same institution. My mum had charged my brother with making sure I was well and truly orientated to my new life. My brother pulled up in front of Queens Hall, one of the female halls of residence and said, "Thats where all the 'happening' girls stay". He dropped me off in my faculty, wished me luck and drove away. Gotta love that guy!

TOYIN

LOCATION: London UK. (Treasury Dept, MTV Studios)

My second sister was always the creative, athletic, poetic one. Keeping diaries, writing poems as gifts, competing for her high school in the sprints. She seemingly never had time for me. She wrote about the people in her life in one of her many little books and summarized each person in a few words. My Dad was, "the wise and discerning one". My mum was, "my strength and inspiration" to her. My brother was, "a buddy and confidante" or at least it was something along those lines. I cant really remember. The only one I clearly remember was the one she wrote about me, "A Pain in the Neck".

My folks were a bit hesitant in showing me what my sister, who I idolized had written about me, for fear of hurting my feelings. They couldnt really comprehend it when I jumped up for joy and went about for the rest of the week preening at the description.

At least it showed she noticed me!

YEWANDE

LOCATION: London UK. (Stay at home Mum of 2 bustling boys)

I had always had a strange relationship with my sister growing up. We got along best when we were away from each other. She attended a boarding school and during term, we would exchange these flowery letters delcaring how much we missed each other and couldnt wait for the holidays when she would be able to teach me the new snack invented in school or some such other event to look forward to.

Which was why my folks and the other two were always puzzled when she came home and within a couple of days, we would be at each other's throats. She is the first-born in more than name. Yewande is the no-nonsense uncomprising (at least back then) leader. "My way or the High Way" sums it up pretty much. And I was the over-pampered last born used to getting my way. Who the hell did she think she was trying to order me to pick up my clothes myself???

The first time I visited her in London after she had moved there on finishing university in Nigeria, it was the middle of winter. I fell asleep on the floor in the living room watching cable and I half-woke up to find my sister putting a pillow under my head and covering me with a thick duvet whispering to herself, "...do you want to catch cold you silly boy".

I probably never told her this but that moment marked a turning point in the way I understood and viewed her.

OTHER COMMENTS:

The fact that you share the same DNA and blood with someone does not guarantee that you will get along with that person. Some of the bitterest enemies I know are family. I consider myself lucky that I am friends with all my siblings and they epitomize that line in Baz Luhrman's 'Sunscreen':

"...Be nice to your siblings. They are the best link to your past and are most likely to stick with you in the future..."