I started writing when I was in jss3 (that would be grade 9). Back then,I just wrote as a hobby or something just for fun. I would write in notebooks and distribute for my classmates to read; they loved it and asked for more. I wrote to make my readers feels happy—to keep boredom away. But something happened when I got into ss2 (grade 11)— I stopped writing. I had to focus on getting my grades straight and I was preparing for the external exams I'd write in the next class. I wanted to get into medical school, so I stopped writing. It felt like a distraction to me—but I still had different story ideas. I just couldn't bring myself to start writing the whole book. Fast forward to 2024, I graduated and worked as a secondary school teacher. I didn't get much time, but I managed to pen some things down. Little snippets of things that go on daily or a one shot of a story idea that popped into my head—but I still couldn't write a full novel like I used to. My writings didn't feel like how they were before. That's when I figured that I grew up and that my writings would be more mature or so.I began to question myself—why do I write? Why should I continue writing? Then I met someone (this year). Funny how we met—he never wanted me in his group, but a friend of mine pleaded on my behalf. That night we had a prayer meeting and I got to know that he operated in the gift of word of knowledge—that intrigued me, so I had to know more. We began talking, I got to know more about him and vice versa. Then I dropped the bomb and told him I was a writer—well, I used to. He told me he knew— all thanks to the Holy Spirit— and adviced me to pick up my pen and start writing, that I would touch many people with my words. That was when I found an answer to my question.I write because it's more than a hobby—it’s a calling. It wasn't just for entertainment, but how I connected with people, how I made them feel seen, understood and even realize that they're not alone in whatever trouble they're facing. Now I understand that every story I pen down, every word I craft carries a piece of light. A healing balm. Even though my writing changed, matured and even went through a season of silence, I realized that it didn't die—it evolved. I'm not writing to impress anybody, but to impact. To share stories of truth, faith, healing and hope. To realize that they're not alone and that can rise again—just like I did.