I was halfway through my second helping of jollof rice when my phone rang. It was the kind of evening where my worries had taken a backseat to the comforting aroma of tomatoes, peppers, and fried plantain. Everything was in its rightful place—until the universe decided it was time to throw a plot twist my way.
The number on my screen was unfamiliar. For a brief, irrational second, I debated ignoring it. After all, it was the kind of decision-making we all do: Is it spam? A long-lost "uncle"? Or worse, someone looking to sell you life insurance? But something in my gut told me to pick up. That call turned out to be the pivot point of my life.
The Past Is Prologue
A little context: I had just moved to London after completing my master's in Development Studies. The plan was straightforward. Secure a job at an NGO. Keep transforming lives across the continent. Save the world in sensible shoes. Easy enough, right? But months of unanswered emails and polite rejection letters were begging to differ.
I was in a tailspin, questioning everything—my decision to leave behind the sunlit familiarity of Lagos, my career path, and even my beloved morning cups of Earl Grey. London had a way of making me feel both insignificant and overstimulated, like I was the central character in the grimmest indie film of the year. So, on that jollof-fueled evening, I was in no mood for interruptions.
Answering the Call (Literally and Figuratively)
The voice on the other end of the line was crisp and assured, with just a hint of curiosity. "Hi Harriet, this is Bola from a publication called Modern Connections—you submitted an article idea a few weeks ago? Are you free to chat?"
Now, here’s the thing. When you’re job-hunting (and perpetually hearing "No”), you forget that sometimes, "Yes" will sneak up on you like a plot twist in a Nollywood thriller. My brain short-circuited for a moment. "Oh, yes, yes! Of course, I’m free!" I responded, as though I weren’t shoving another plantain into my mouth seconds before.
To my amazement, Bola went on to describe how they loved my pitch about navigating modern relationships through the lens of African culture. “It’s refreshing,” she said. “We’ve been looking for someone with a voice like yours."
There it was: validation, the kind I hadn’t dared hope for. Months of questioning my worth, navigating London rain (both literal and metaphorical), and clinging to the tiniest threads of optimism suddenly made sense. I had something to offer. Someone out there wanted it.
When Doubt Creeps In
But, full transparency, I didn’t immediately believe her. Imposter syndrome didn’t just knock on my door; it moved in and started redecorating. Who was I to write about love and relationships for a modern audience? Sure, I’d spent countless hours dissecting romance novels, interrogating my siblings about their love lives, and laughing over heartbreak stories with my friends. But was that enough?
It didn’t help that my last romantic encounter had involved a guy who ghosted me after borrowing my Apple charger. Imagine holding out hope for better WiFi-texting activity while simultaneously praying he didn’t fry your adapter with his “gentlemanliness.” Love, it seemed, was the one part of my life even jollof couldn’t fix.
But something Bola said stayed with me: “We’re not looking for perfect. We’re looking for real. That’s what people relate to.”
Why the Call Mattered
That conversation kickstarted not just my career as a writer but also my belief in the power of sharing stories. I began writing for that publication—nervously at first—but soon, it became my refuge. I discovered that people don’t need you to have “arrived”; they just need to hear what you learned on the journey. I wrote about having crushes that didn’t crush back, tackling cultural expectations during dating (hello, being asked when you’re having kids on your second date), and the delicate dance of blending humor, honesty, and hope.
I began to hear from readers, too. Women reaching out about navigating love within the confines of tradition. Men admitting they’d never thought about relationships “that deeply” before. My words, imperfect as they were, were helping people feel seen.
Lessons from the Ring of a Phone
That one call changed everything, but it also taught me a few things about life, and I’ll share them with you—because why not let my epiphanies be yours, too?
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Pick Up the Call
Literally and metaphorically. The easiest way to miss out on magic is to let fear or doubt talk you out of showing up. Opportunity doesn’t always wait for us to feel ready. Sometimes, you just have to dive in headfirst, plantain and all. -
Imposter Syndrome Ain’t Paying Rent, So Evict It
Feeling unqualified isn’t a reason to opt out of your own story. The very things you doubt about yourself could be the things others admire most. -
Real Connection = Real Talk
Whether it’s romance or career, being your most authentic self opens more doors than you think. People can sense fake—a universal truth rivaling gravity. -
Your Low Moments Are Seeds, Not Curses
I hated the uncertainty of my time in London, but the lessons I gained in that period—resilience, honesty with myself, and finding joy in small wins—are the threads weaving my life together today.
My New Journey
These days, I write full-time, blending my experiences with love, culture, and wit into stories that resonate across continents. And, wouldn’t you know it, I even met someone whose sense of humor matches mine—he laughed at one of my worst puns on a first date and sealed the deal with suya on the second. Romance isn’t perfect, much like life, but that’s exactly what makes it beautiful.
So, here’s a tidbit from me to you: Say yes when opportunity calls. It might catch you off guard. It might disrupt your dinner. But trust me when I say—you’ll thank yourself later.
And yes, always answer with confidence—preferably after swallowing your plantain.
