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BACK STORY: Words From The Campus Journalist Of The Year

BACK STORY: Words From The Campus Journalist Of The Year

By Maryam  Abdullahi

What if days didn’t run as fast as the winds? What if happenings didn’t come and go like life and death — bumping into nothing that could distract the swiftness of time? Maybe, l would be too sobered to be in a dreamland.

And when I reached Abuja, my presence was strange to the busy city. The no-man’s-city happenings appeared really obscure and that wasn’t me being silly. I was simply reacting to the instability of my mood; the thought of what awaited me gambled away the serenity of my mind. It was difficult to point my finger to what exactly to expect.

I looked out through the windscreen of the cab a zillion times. Locating the exact venue took almost forever and a heavy relief gripped my mind when the picture of the beautiful lodge arrested my eyes.

Few minutes later, that powerful instructive mail bounced my phone, honestly, I was detached from ease. The patronizing music playing outside from the get-together tempted my attention.

At that time, I was less worried about the content of the mail. I tried as much as I could to catch the fun — I hate to regret later. The chit-chat with the finalists was worthy of my time.

Back in the room, I watched the young night turned old and when it was morning, I expected nothing and everything; I only looked forward to the future happenings.
The conference room is what I’d rather describe as an interrogation room or an examination hall. The serious atmosphere and the faces of the judges, though simple, erased my hope, I didn’t realise when I reminisced every word I wrote on that piece.

At the award venue, where beautiful music was playing, beautiful people walked in and out; I went for my seat and sat with my zombie thoughts.

To avoid writing a book, I first received the Gender Equality category award with excessive contentment, until Mr Abdulaziz Abdulaziz echoed my name for the overall award. Shock gripped my consciousness and all that came out of my mouth was “Oh my God!”

All thanks to the Lord Almighty.

I want to say a very huge thank you to Youth Digest, the organisers of this amazing event — those who converted deserts into green fields. Yushau Shuaib, the Editor and executive Director of Youth Digest, Mr Gidado Shuaib, the brain behind the event, Mr Abdulaziz Abdulaziz, the man that was able to inspire my soul, Mr Abdullahi O Haruna Haruspice, who jokingly asked me to adjust my scarf, Mr Ewache Ajefu — I want to tell you that your laughter diluted the tension that was piled up in my mind. Thank you Sir, Mr Auwal Ibrahim Musa Rafsanjani.Thank you for the privilege you generously offered to the awardees — we’re grateful and I’m most grateful.

Ahmad Muhammad Danyaro, your words are still clear in my memory. And every other great minds and dignitaries present at the event, that I’m unable to mention. Thank you all.

To the Finalists, it was a pleasure to have your acquaintances.

The New Digest Press UDUS, I appreciate your support, your guidance and your every sacrifice towards producing a prolific Gender advocator. My EIC, Taoheed A. Adegbite Abdulrahman Yahaya Muneer Yaqub, Bashir Kola Turawa, Ayuba Muhyideen Kolawole, Mujeeb Abdulwasiu , Abdulazeez Ismail And other Comrades.Thank you all.

Digest Women in Focus, the fact that I have just one year left, saddens me, before my time with you all elapses. I’ll be sure that more vibrant, committed and passionate female journalists are produced among you. Thank you.

My Family, even though I spend all day writing, you only complain few times. I know my writing habit got really provoking and so, I got little audience each time I read it aloud. You all accommodated my silliness — Hajara Abdullahi, Fatima Nana Abdullahi, Ameena Abdullah, Ayeeshar Abdullah, Khairah Abdullah, Abdullah Muhammad, Abdullahi Yusuf. I’m grateful.

Hilltop Creative Art Foundation, my honourable mentors, Mr BM Dzukogi, Dr Abdullahi Bala Isa and other mentors and members of the Art Centre. I’m grateful.

Mr ‘Fisayo Soyombo, I owe you a thank you. Mallam Isah Muhammad Galadima, I assure you sir that all the gender pieces I’ve written were not bias. Dr Jimoh Olaiya Amzat ‘Joa’, thank you Sir.

Was there ever a day, you didn’t say to me:  “Pal, you can do it?” Thank you pal Hamza Adam for your unending confidence.

Is it even possible to conclude this piece without the mention of your name? I dare not! Like a backbone, you stood by me, even though I could be silly sometimes, you ignored my silliness and focused on our purpose together. Honestly, you can be difficult too, you gave me headache with the constant reminder of write this, read that!
I want you to know that I’m grateful. Thank you Sir Ibrahim Ola Rotimi.

Ahmed Hassan, though I wasn’t available, my attention was utterly caged in the world of journalism, you were here and there, patiently supporting me. Thank you dear.

Adam Jibril, I’m grateful. My friends, because of you all, I reached this stage. I want to ask for your pardon because it’s very impossible to mention all names.

Thank you all.

Maryam Abdullahi.

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