Since as long as I could remember I have always loved writing, always trying to be that god who got people to read his creativity to others, which brought happiness however temporary or permanent.

From writing on pieces of paper torn out of my primary school books to writing on a laptop while covered in blanket shielding myself from the cold windy night/morning. During my primary school days I used to write my own stories and they were beautiful with an ease of simplicity, written on beautifully cut off sugar papers designed with markers and crayons of all the colors of the rainbow. To me they were spell bounding and Nobel worthy but to some others, they were just a child’s replica of “Chike and the River” (written by the great Chinua Achebe), riddle with grammatical errors, punctuation errors, wrong syntax , wrong word play and the most disheartening of all lack of encouragement from the readers, the adults, the so called professionals. more on http://awomkenneth.com/how-to-write-write-for-the-love-of-writing/