Reflections of the Year

 

The year came with so much, and in the blink of an eye, we are drawing the curtains. As 2024 fades into memory, it feels necessary to reflect on the journey so far. It has been a good year for some, a difficult one for others, and—for people like me—something in between.

I started the year with resolutions I couldn’t quite meet. Dreams shattered halfway; plans wobbled on shaky foundations. I found myself waiting—hanging on—for that indescribable call: a split second of awakening, or even a surge of determination to push me forward. This year brought its share of setbacks, enough to make me question the very essence of effort and perseverance. However, there were victories too.

I built my writing career and began to see my work in print. Thirteen publications now carry my name—a milestone I’m deeply proud of. I sent submissions to countless platforms, but some doors remained closed. Even a few local opportunities passed me by unnoticed. My goal in 2025 is to see my work in these magazines and be a better version of myself.

Kalahari Review and Brittle Paper welcomed my words, along with other international platforms. It’s progress, and it matters! Nonetheless, I crave more—because writing is what I want to do. Isn’t it funny how self-discovery can happen at unexpected stages of life? I’m still uncovering pieces of myself and I’m loving the process.

Academically, I achieved something remarkable: I completed one program and embarked on another. The new program, designed to spark my creativity, feels more like a robotic course around my neck. It has drained my joy and pushed me to abandon my assignments entirely this Christmas. I’ve been wrestling with frustration—not just with the program, but with the broader Ghanaian education system. I’ve poured these thoughts into an essay I hope to publish next year.

Beyond that, I fell in love with solitude—a side of me I hadn’t explored before. Previously, I thrived on being outdoors; but this year, I embraced the loneliness during Christmas. I read, cooked, and slept. I let the calmness of my room envelop me. No, I didn’t write!

Another issue I’ve noticed is the lack of timely and constructive feedback from some editors. “I can’t smell the fragrance of your poems”, one editor said.

What do you mean?

And the usual, “it is not a reflection of your writing”.

 Then accept it if my work is good!

 The delays can be frustrating, and the same can be said for HR departments at many companies. They need to communicate more efficiently with their applicants and work faster.

Music became my companion. I listened to heartbreak songs, piano ballads, and slow, rhythmic melodies filled with themes of sorrow. They resonated because I was/am sad—deeply,  so profoundly. Despite this sadness, I hold on to that single piece.

On a brighter note, I hope to start writing reviews for books I enjoy. If you’re a writer reading this, please share any upcoming book events with me. It could be creative events so I write reviews and push the boundaries of creativity. 

Finally, though I’ve avoided my personal life. I have faith that things will improve. Perhaps this coming year, I’ll learn to stop hating, stop throwing tantrums, and start finding moments of peace with every loss or heartbreak.

I dream that the impressionist portrait I am painting of myself will one day step out of the murals and come to life. I dream that 2025 will bring green ticks on all my resolutions.