One day, I'll be something

I've always wanted to be a superstar. Growing up, I picked on the name 'Drama queen' from my family because of how dramatic I was. I could switch moods within seconds and imitate anybody I wanted to without thinking about it twice.

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I had imagined myself on the red carpet of a huge dinner or award night event in a pretty shiny dress, stiletto heels, matching handbag and accessories, well-styled hair and powdered face answering questions or taking pictures, award in one hand and a modest smile on my face.

I had equally imagined myself in various movies, taking on various characters in Hollywood and Nollywood respectively. Each time I saw a movie, I would imagine myself as whatever character that caught my fancy, repeating his or her steps, and words, trying to imitate the charisma, so that one day, I too could deliver such a role if it was required of me.

I got admission into the University to study Theatre Arts with inexplicable excitement. I knew that I had taken a big leap toward the achievement of my hopes and dreams and I was ready to face it head-on, however, there is a saying that goes "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride".

After my first semester at the university, the association in charge of universities in cooperation with the Labour Congress embarked on a nationwide strike that ran for eight entire months.

Within the period of these eight months, I decided to find a means to relieve my mom of some financial burden so I began scouting for jobs both on and offline, I also spoke to my friends about it so they could refer me in case they saw an opportunity. Almost two weeks after my search, my colleague from school called and said she had an acting job for me. The pay was little but she said we were going to be acting alongside some celebrities so we were not losing out completely. Besides, It was going to be a means to sharpen my acting skills too so I agreed to do it and went over to attend their first production meeting.

The director was a man who knew how to manipulate words. He spoke convincingly about the project, pleading with everyone to cooperate with him so we could achieve something substantial and without stress. There were no celebrities in sight on that first day so I thought they would come in afterwards because they were probably busy.

We were told that we couldn't go on with the audition exercise that very day because the producers were not on seat, another meeting day was fixed. However, later that evening, we were added to a WhatsApp group where we were all asked to introduce ourselves after which a meeting schedule alongside rules and regulations for the production was dropped.

We had to be on set for 8 hours almost every day and each day we came late, a fine of 500 naira was taken out of the token they were to pay us. I quickly sent a message to the young lady who called me for the job to ask some questions. If I was to be paid seven thousand at the end of the production (which was to last for a month) for eight hours from Mondays to Saturdays, then I was not going to do it.

"Treasure, you know you have to start from somewhere in this industry. As you keep going, it keeps getting easy for you" was her reply.

Did I ever say I wanted to be a celebrity actor? Scrap that. If that was how most or all of them began, then I wasn't ready to make money out of acting. At least, not yet.

I began scouting for other jobs and complained to my mom when on-site organizations refused to employ me because I was a student.

"What about your writing?" That was the first question my mom asked. As of then, my writing served as both a hobby and a means to build my online community.

I mean, Who would want to pay money for stories that were made up?

Eventually, I decided to make an attempt and reached out to an older writer acquaintance telling him I wanted to sell some stories that were lying in dust on my bookshelf. He advised me not to sell them and referred me to Upwork instead. That was where I got my first writing job.

I found myself working from the convenience of my home, effectively juggling between my job and chores and earning cool cash for another thing I knew how to do best.

Four months into the strike, I engaged in a writing competition that lasted for a week and earned three times the amount I was offered for that acting job. Each time I saw the future me from then, I didn't see a young lady riding on power bikes to save the world or a young woman who had been mistreated and was struggling to survive in the world as the script may demand, I saw a young lady tucked away in a room illuminated by the blue light from a laptop screen, glasses perched on her nose, soft music in the background, typing away.

I saw a young lady, still in that pretty dinner dress, still holding an award, but with the inscription "Writer of the Year…".

I still imagine a superstar.