I want to believe myself an Writer. 

My name is Uba, and I'm a graduate from a Nigerian university. I write to express what I feel, see, and hear - whispers that echo within me. I attempt to make sense of the world, but my brain often provides me with fragmented thoughts, hazy ideas, and multiple possible outcomes. Perhaps a billion possibilities branch out unnaturally, unfolding over an unspecified timeframe.

It's then I discover the beauty of the dimension my mind taps into. I flutter through realms of thought, forced to choose the most reasonable option among countless possibilities. Over time, I'm compelled to reflect on my past choices, questioning whether I was indeed right. I revisit my efforts, once considered beautiful, now often viewed with disgust. I wonder how poorly my mind functioned back then.

Sometimes, I laugh at my own ideas, marveling at the brilliance of my mind in crafting such extreme concepts. I contemplate the entire sequence: writing, reviewing, editing. And I wonder, "Does it ever end for me? All these efforts, sacrifices, and time?" Eventually, I see the fruit of my labor. I tap my chest gently and proudly declare, "I am a genius."

I'm currently working on two of my pieces here on wattpad : 
1.Abraham Dun : A game of Vengeance. 
2. The Key: Sails and Tides.
  I'm done with a great deal of this works, creating the imaginary worlds and making the framework...and even posted some installment here on Wattpad forum. 
   But on Wattpad am moving the chapters gradually, as I allow various positive readers and Book-clubs, like The Rebel Book Club, review the piece to prime it. 
   In essence, I am still editing the work. Readers bear with me and please be kind 😊