#44: academic weapon.

it’s my final year of undergrad. i’m determined to lock in. .

          I am so grateful to the younger me. She was wiser than her years, and she knew exactly what she wanted. All the paths she chose to take have turned out to be just what she needed. I am so happy I chose the Humanities after junior high, even though many people expected me to take the Sciences because, and I quote, “ that was the class for the smart ones”. (Nigerians unfortunately have no appreciation for the Arts) I knew at a very young age that life was too short to not do what made me genuinely happy. I knew I had a curiosity of the world around me, an inquisitiveness that only the Arts could attempt to answer. I knew I cared so deeply about the politics of the world around me. I knew I loved  literature with an almost religious reverence. Because of my decision, I thrived. I loved (almost) all my subjects. I’m going to toot my own horn here— indulge me: I was valedictorian in my senior year. And I know all this was possible because I did what I wanted. Now — and I can’t believe I am typing this — I have just begun my final year of undergrad! I’m studying International Relations with a minor in Politics. 

I love scholarship. I’ve always loved learning and school and all that comes with it. Studying is fun for me; I like the mental discipline and the tiny games I play in my head as I pore over my subjects. I’ve noticed that although I like to study, there are seasons in my academic career where I just sink a little. It’s always because I start slacking and become lazy. I start to take for granted my intellect and overestimate myself. I hate those seasons. I just had one recently. My last results weren’t as great as I’d have loved them to be. I didn’t fail, nor did I perform below average. In fact, I performed very well. But I knew I could do better. I could trace my mistakes to the times I was  not taking my academics seriously. That was an eye opener. I am determined to not repeat the mistakes I made last year. I love the seasons in my academic career where I am passionate and driven and focused. Anytime I lock in, magic happens. Explosions of success ensue. The world tilts on its axis. No seriously, a well-educated Blessing is a sight to behold! 

University is in session now. I attended my first classes yesterday. I met my new lecturers, reconnected with the old, understood the quirks of my timetable, changed one of my courses, and asked one of my favorite lecturers to be my dissertation supervisor. I sat in a library  discussion room with Krystle. We pored over our laptops and chatted away (let me admit, I chatted away. Krystle is a calm lake to my roaring waves). I sailed around campus, saying hi to familiar faces, hugging people, just generally having fun. I am glad I am in a space now where I am comfortable and confident in myself on campus. For a long time it wasn’t so. 

I’ll say it again: I cannot believe I am in my final year as an undergraduate. I can still clearly remember my very first day at Lancaster . It is so cliche to say this, but there is a reason it is cliche — time flies. Time is a flighty nimbus.  Speaking of final year, I am excited for the adventure ahead. Emma and I have made study plans for the year, and I ran the plan by Krystle to see if she would be interested.  She was. We are going to be the Final Year Foo Fighters (that’s a bad nickname, we need to come up with something cool). I am hopeful, I feel passionate and excited to learn again. I was thinking about my goals for this year and one of my goals is to grow as a thinker over the semester. I want to sharpen my mind and my scholarly pen. I actually have dreams of pursuing my education to the highest level and  becoming a part-time lecturer. I want a quarter of my life to be dedicated to academia. Women just started attending university a few hundred years ago. Apart from my love for scholarship, I am thrilled that I was born in a generation where I could pursue my education to the highest level possible, and become an insufferable champagne-drinking, intellectually snobby, overeducated elite. I believe the mothers before me would be proud. 

My final year dissertation is about to take up ninety-percent space in my life. It is about to become my entire personality. What are you doing Blessing, someone would ask. Oh, I’m writing my dissertation, I would say. Do you want to go to so-and-so's place?They’d say. Oh no, I’m writing a dissertation. I’m too busy for all of that, I would respond. I am going to use it as a get out of jail free card, an excuse generator if you will. I know it is  going to be exciting and harrowing at the same time, but I am looking forward to it.

I am currently sitting on my table, typing away. There is an odd stillness in the air. I have a flask of cappuccino beside me as I type. I am sleepy — I hope I haven’t written rubbish. After I send this letter I will go to bed. Tomorrow is another day to be an academic weapon.

Love, 

Blessing.

current favorites:

• reconnecting with friends and classmates.

• prophet song by paul lynch.

• the hallelujah challenge

• living alone

• hot beverages.

• 300 hundred subscribers on substack!!!!!!!!!!!

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gallery:

watching the sun rise from the plane. magical.

me fooling around before takeoff.

See you all soon my loves!