Summie's write
@RuthSummie
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đ| I write into existence|Photography | video editor/ graphics designer| [email protected]
Federal Capital Territory, Nig
Joined July 2019
One day, I will write a piece and Chimamanda will read and she will love it.đ.
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To feel less alone. There are things I donât know how to say until someone else says them first. The real world can be too loud, too fast, and books slow it down. They let me breathe.
But in all honesty, why do you read books?.
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Writing made me pay more attention,.to people, to the world, and to myself. It showed me who I really am, and who I might become. It made me stronger, more honest, and more aware.
Writing books has made me a better storyteller. Articles don't always give you that kind of freedom.
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How about us with a banger tweet. Nothing for us? đ.
If you graduated with First class, post your transcripts.
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RT @RuthSummie: Custom resin art makes the perfect gift. Great for birthdays, bridal showers, souvenirs or just something meaningful toâŚ.
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Keep your eyes on your own paper, they say. But that's hard to do when everyone else's papers are flapping constantly in your face. Yellow face. F Kuang.
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Writing is such a solitary activity. You have no assurance that what you're creating has any value, and any indication that you're behind in the rat race sends you spiraling into the pits of despair.
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It wasn't about grades anymore. It was about discovery, connection and thrills of getting lost in a world made of worlds.
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It showed me that stories could take me.places I'd never been, teach me things no.classroom ever had, and made me feel seen.in ways I didn't know I needed. Reading had already become something.deeper for me, something that went far.beyond school assignments or report cards.
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as if the book itself had lived a thousand.lives before finding its way into mine. In many ways, that book became more than.just a collection of words, it was my escape,.my adventure, and my education all rolled.into one.
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The language wasnât especially fancy, but something about it pulled me in like nothing ever had. From that moment on, it wasnât just a book, it became my companion. I read it over and over again until the pages began to tear at the edges, and the words started to blur,.
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But it wasnât just religious texts that sparked my imagination. Everything changed the day I was gifted my first bookâThe Gods Are Not to Be Blamed. It came as a simple gift, but to me, it felt like the universe had handed me a key to an entirely new world.
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I barely touched it, but the Old Testament oh, that was a treasure chest of adventure and drama. The stories there, with their layers of morality, betrayal, love, and redemption, held me captive.
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kings and prophets, wars and miracles. There was something so vivid about it all. The emotions were raw, the characters complex, and the drama felt real in a way I couldnât quite explain, even to myself. The New Testament, in contrast, remained an afterthought to me.
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I started reading early, though not in the way most kids did. While others were flipping through picture books or chapter books meant for children, I found myself buried in the Old Testament. I got completely lost in its grand, sweeping stories,.
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Still, I always felt this pull toward something more. Maybe it was a way to escape, or maybe I was just curious. Whatever it was, it made me seek out stories wherever I could find them, even in the smallest corners of my world.
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My parents, loving and hardworking as they were, focused on making sure we had the basics, food, shelter, and education. To them, that was what mattered most. Books, especially the kind you read just for fun, werenât really on their radar.
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I didnât grow up in a house full of books or in a world where reading was part of everyday life. Outside of the textbooks we had to read for school and a few worn-out storybooks tucked away on dusty shelves, there really werenât many books around.
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I asked my sister about her result and she said, âAll of them are good.â. What do you mean by good? First class good? Or âI no carry overâ good?.That statement has no shape, no color, no CGPA. Clarify before we congratulate in error. đ.
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That mindset of "I gave you life, so you owe me everything" is the root of so much generational trauma. Love that's traded like currency? Thatâs not loveâitâs control.
Children owe you nothing for the bare minimum. Food, shelter, school fees. That was your responsibility the moment you decided to have them. Becoming a parent is a choice (in most cases) and with that choice comes a duty not a transaction. Many parents act like theyâre doing.
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Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves. Perhaps you will live into the answers. Everything in nature grows in silence first, beneath the soil, unseen. So must you.
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