I have been writing for as long as I can remember… maybe I started sometime around my 6th year… on earth😊 or thereabout because I remember vividly how I’ll use my spare 2A, B or D notes to write stories that well, I’d say had no ‘head nor tail’.

I’m not sure now but I think that used to get my mum upset somehow. I mean, you buy notebooks for your child to use in school but they in the stead use them for stories… Infact, the manner in which I used them must be what infuriated her more. I’m Melancholic and because perfectionism is our greatest strength and most critical weakness, I’d drop a notebook I’d used for a story – even if it was just 3 pages of it – and pick a new one for another story – and use just a few pages of that one too – and pick a new one for another story… or even the same story when I felt the notebook was ‘too rough’.

So, I wrote every and any story. Village setting, city girl, school children, family, anything that ‘formed’ in my head. I kept at this and grew to spending my money – when I began to get the stipends for snacks in Secondary school… and the ones I stole (Yes, I’m that bad daughter who stole money from her parents. I’m happy for those of you who didn’t) – on buying notebooks and pens to write my stories with.

They were always stories. Always. Well, maybe a few poems but, almost always stories.

Why am I telling you all of these?

Just wait.

I started a blog sometime in 2012. My then-roommate showed me the blog of one of her friends and since I used to write alot (and was working on what I think is my best completed story so far), I felt – and I think she mentioned too – that I could start a blog too.

So, I did. I think it was called “YoursSincerelyMe” or something like that. It ended woefully not too long after that. That’s story for another day.

I started QueenOset’sBlog when sef? 2013 I think. I started it when I thought I was finally ready to let the world share in my gift. Writing.

Yup. My gift.

I’ve always considered my ability to write a gift. I believe I was equipped to be a writer. Penning words is my voice. If you know me well enough, you’ll know I’m a better writer than I am a speaker.

I started blogging, with the hopes and belief that I’ll be able to run one. Maybe my writers would find me totally awesome and I’d become a famous writer through it. 

I found out as I began to take my writing more seriously that to be an awesome writer, it takes more than being gifted. It takes practice. It takes consistency. It takes discipline. Consciously ‘polishing the gift’. It’s like having a baby. It doesn’t just grow, you have to feed it – well, if you desire that it grows. And grows well.

For a while I’ve considered ‘coming back’to my blog. But, I have been looking for the perfect post for a comeback in this drought I’ve been in. Yes, I’ve been in some sought of creative drought.

I put my blog aside to face Law School and my Bar Exams sometime last year, starting from July. I had planned on resuming after ‘recovering from law school’which was supposed to be sometime around October – ko werk.

 What happened? Well, when October came? Long story – for another day.

Like I said earlier, I’ve been looking for the perfect comeback post. 

No, I haven’t found it. This afternoon, it struck me that I will never find it.
So, instead of the perfect post – which I’m not sure I’ve never had -I was inspired to pen this. 

I don’t even know what category to put this in. So, I’ll just let you read and maybe, just maybe, this is my perfect comeback post.

Let me just say this before I leave – Writers do a lot of work. Writing is a lot of work. Yes, we hunch over our keyboards and allow our fingers fly away on the keys, hoping they’ll convey what our minds bear, downing tons of coffee and wearing same sweatpants for days. It really looks like we’re doing nothing…

… I have no words to say to you that think writing and writers are nothing. Maybe some other day. But I think for now, I’ll just pray for your soul; that God forgives you, really.

For now, again, I have to go.

P. S: I discovered I have a lot of  maybes  and reallys in this piece. I choose to not edit them😊

On Beauty And Hand Guns

By Sharon Olanrewaju

I watched sternly, eyes widened, as she did her artistic work; hands set, all tools in place, confidence like that of Michael Angelo.
She  commanded me “HOLD THE MIRROR WELL!”
I obeyed promptly like a nervous apprentice who is scared her boss could fire her at any tiny fault. I was before a professional artist.

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Throwback Thursdays! I’m Freshly Pissed!

The Phil Factor

This was wildly popular when I published it two years ago. If you didn’t see it then, it’s new to you!

This blog is dedicated to myself and all the other erstwhile bloggers who have toiled long and hard writing interesting and engaging blog posts but have nary an official award to show for it.


For my friends who visit me here from Facebook or TwitterFreshly Pressed is an honor awarded to people who aren’t as brilliant and funny as I am a blog post by the trolls people that ‘run’ WordPress like their own cool kids clique in high school. The honor of having your post Freshly Pressed means that it is part of a featured list on WordPress that is read by thousands and you get a Freshly Pressed badge that you can post in your sidebar for all eternity so you can…

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What Love Is

By Sharon Olanrewaju

I watched as you walked out on me (again) and I hated you; you wouldn’t listen to me, you never do. I remember ten years ago, I wanted to watch the cartoon station while you wanted the football station. I got angry because I knew you had never liked watching football, you only wanted to get on my nerves, wanted to feel like the big brother. I was angry and I fought back.
I changed the channel with the T.V button, you laughed and didn’t move as you changed it with the remote control. It grated on my nerves. Continue reading

Sit It Out Or Dance

By Adeyinka Shittu

We were with Mr. David Awonuga, our music instructor, going over Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli’s The Prayer in preparation for a performance.
I was struggling with pronouncing the Italian words right while Vivian, the soprano I was dueting with, had nailed the song down to salvera. (Salvera is the last word in the piece to be sung like Whitney Houston’s ‘I will always love youuuuu’).

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It Is Important That We Read Books… And The Bible Too

By Sharon Olanrewaju

And I can hear the Heavens laughing already; Sharon wants to write about reading 😂ROTFLOL.

But I’ll do this anyway, I’ll write on the significance of reading, or learning as a whole. So, sit back and learn 😋
I’m not so much a big fan of reading books; It’s just not so much fun when compared to sleeping. I, however, observed something recently: when I stop reading anything at all, seeing movies (Dope movies, not dumb ones), seeing how people’s lives are trending online –  via Instagram, Twitter, Facebook – I begin to get stale. Whatever I write or say seems to be void of substance – at least, so it seems to me.

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Getting Queen To Write Again

Hey guys! So I got this mail yesterday and I thought to share. You can laugh along (as I did) or side the sender 😑

Dear Queen Oset’s Blog readers,

I believe I’m not the only one who has noticed that the last time Queen Oset published anything she wrote herself was Easter Sunday (or so).

I like Queen’s writing for the same reason I like Shoprite bread (even though she dissed the bread in one of her blog posts).  It’s rich, full and incredibly satisfying like jollof rice; which she claims is overrated. (Come to think of it, somebody who beefs Shoprite bread and Jollof rice has deep,  dark secrets. Queen what are you hiding?)

Although Sharon Olanrewaju and Adeyinka Shittu are doing a good job of filling the space, I’m a bit tired of Sharon’s long articles and Adeyinka’s hyper-spiritual stories.  (No hard feelings people). What I need is a Queen-story or a Queen-rant.

Can someone explain? What happened to our Queen? Is she lying in a hospital bed in vegetative state? In that case, can I have her address so I can send her flowers? (You can’t blame my imagination for wanting an explanation).

Or can the Queen herself answer us?

Yours sincerely,
Concerned and depressed and will-soon-commit-suicide-if Queen-doesnt-reply fan.

What To Do When You’re Broke On Faith

By Adeyinka Shittu

We’ll keep on falling down unless we fall in Love,” I tell him while it rains cats and dogs outside. (We’re in our room watching ‘The Hobbit’)

He (the young, fly, saved Christian) responds with laughter from the core of his being. His laughter is a mixture of water-walking faith and crippling fear that shakes the bed we’re laying on to its joints.

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