Letter To My Past


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Dear Past,

Here’s to the past they say, but is it really past? How deep in the past is it, if it can turn up at your doorstep fifty years in the future demanding an audience?

They say thoughts like that tie you down to one place. Maybe it does. But you my dear are not.

You see, it’s hard not to think about you when I credit you with every experience I have. And like you love to remind me, today is tomorrow’s yesterday.

Now that the pleasantries have been observed, let’s get to the matter.

It’s wonderful that I got to call you teacher, but I need you to know that your test scores don’t define me. You tried with the impromptu “Tear a piece of paper,” and the trick questions during exams, but it doesn’t change the fact that I graduated with honours. I might have had a few carryovers but they just helped me do better.

But the thing is I’m not here to stroke you. I’m here to warn you. You’ve watched me become this awesome human being who passed econometrics with flying colours despite the fact that I was doomed to fail and now you’re gearing up for the Masters part of my life.

Know this, you can’t win. Why? Because I already have a PhD!

And just in case you think you can show up at my doorstep fifty years from now demanding for space that you don’t have in my house, amma fling you back right back to where you came from.

 

Yours in love,

Present

 

About the Writer: Damilola Osifowora is a funny, weird in a good way, human species. She is crazy about God, a knowledge craving and book addict.

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