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Friday, April 27, 2007

Turning Thirty


It sounds so serious it's not funny. I understand when you turn thirty, people start considering you more seriously as someone who can "lead" with ideas than when you're a few whiskers shy of the year.

Wow.

Thirty.

My accomplishments are nothing home to write about. Were it not for the World Wide Web, I'd probably be -- and am -- another statistic who's just turned thirty, and is even more confused about life.

But apart from all that, I'd have nothing to show for my life.

Or...would I?;-) I've been writing a journal since 1989, when my brother, Sam, was alive and I was only 12.

I haven't stopped since.

All my endeavours since have involved, in some way or another, writing.

I am not a journalist, though I do plan to be one in the next year or so, coupled by the fact that my job description includes journalistic skills.

But I reiterate: I have that chip on the shoulder which makes me feel uncomfortable stating I am one. I want a sheet of paper, or whatever, associating me with journalism. A diploma would be good; a degree, even better.

That's when I will be able to breathe freely.

Before then, it's continuing to blog about my life (reflecting the eccentric world); blogging about Ghana, my country, which I wouldn't trade with any other; blogging about the political scientist in me, by way of my regional integration blog, RegionsWatch; blogging about Accra, by way of pictures, and then some. And finally, reviewing blogs for the Reuters-supported Global Voices Online.

Either way, it all involves writing.

I came across a site, whilst looking for a picture about "being thirty", and it was by an author in the UK, who has written a book about turning thirty.

It's not so much that he's written that book, than about the fact that he's written one at all!!

I've got to get cracking, for a writer, within me, lies.

I just don't know it--and if my thirties will do anything, it will have to extract that talent out like...tonsilitis?

who said turning thirty meant an end to silliness?

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7 Comments:

At Friday, April 27, 2007 6:29:00 pm , Blogger Steph said...

If we consider that you posted two separate posts about turning thirty, the one two days before your birthday, and the other one day after, I think we can safely say that your silliness is alive and kicking, and you have nothing to worry about :-)

I crossed the 30s barrier several years ago, and I'm still as silly as I've ever been, if not more (ask sissy!).

Happy birthday mr. Bensah! (or "Medzi dzigbe njkeke nyuie no wo", right? had to google this, it's probably one of 100s of dialects you have in Ghana, but it seemed cool!...)

 
At Monday, April 30, 2007 6:58:00 am , Blogger sissoula said...

Thirty is young nowadays, but if you have goals, don't put them off. Turning 30 just kinda happens, but the other stuff won't, unless you make it happen.

 
At Monday, April 30, 2007 4:46:00 pm , Blogger Emmanuel.K.Bensah II said...

steph--:-))) The devil is in the detail! Do you realise that the first post had an exclamation; the second didn't?;-) A small, unwitting, detail to indicate my sobering perspective on turning thirty;-)

As for the greek you've typed there, bless you!!;-)) Looks like...swahili?

sisoula--you were always so profound. Thanks for your kind words!;-)

 
At Monday, April 30, 2007 5:48:00 pm , Blogger Steph said...

Oh, I see how it goes... Sissy is profound and I'm... what?! suffering from hey fever I guess...

Well, just so you know, I wrote you my wishes in the Ewe tribal language, which according to the WWW is one of the tribes in Ghana! (but I lost the link, so shoot me...)

The exclamation mark I had noticed, but I didn't "get it". I usually don't (again, ask Sissy)...

Well anyway, as I was saying... "Chronia polla!" (now you can bless me)

 
At Monday, April 30, 2007 6:01:00 pm , Blogger Steph said...

Ah, there it is...

 
At Wednesday, May 02, 2007 11:42:00 am , Blogger Emmanuel.K.Bensah II said...

Steph! Pot damn! I am impressed! Thank you for the thoughtfulness!

Coincidentally, I am of Ewe (Volta Region) and Fanti (Central Region) extraction. Ewe from my father's side, but I can't speak the dialect of my Dad to save my life--only my Mum's, which my Dad can speak, ironically, very well;-)

Much appreciated!

Oh, pls, far from being hay fever! Steph, honestly!;-))

 
At Friday, May 04, 2007 2:53:00 pm , Blogger Daniel Hoffmann-Gill said...

Happy Birthday old man!

Only joking...

 

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