A Journey of Quiet Stories and Literary Community
Writing in Uyo can feel like an isolated pursuit. The city has its unique rhythm, slow and comfortable, much like the traffic. However, this calm can sometimes be a double-edged sword. There is a lack of external challenges that might push a writer to grow or evolve. For many, especially those who write about the quiet and unseen, this environment can be both a gift and a burden.
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Uyo is a special place that calms you. Its energy contrasts with the chaos of the castles and characters a writer builds in their mind. When you step outside, it doesn’t roar or shout back—it whispers. While this can be comforting, it can also feel like a weight that keeps you from fully blossoming as a writer.
As a struggling writer, I often find myself questioning if my stories matter. I’m traditionally unpublished, still working on hitting a hundred sales for my poetry eBook, I May 33iDestroy You. Writing here feels like trying to build a fire in the rain. I am a nonfiction essayist who finds joy in writing about small and hidden things—everyday stories, private heartbreaks, faith, culture, grief, and how I cope with uncertainty. Sometimes I write about lives I’ve watched unfold quietly around me, or about young people like me who dream of more but feel trapped by rigid routines.
I believe that even the ordinary deserves to be written about. However, stories like mine aren’t always popular or mainstream in a publishing world that often leans toward big dramas or familiar clichés. That’s why being called a “struggling writer” isn’t just about the lack of recognition—it’s about the struggle to find an audience, to convince myself that quiet stories matter, and to keep going when it feels like nobody is reading.
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The Boldoz Book & Arts Festival: A Literary Escape
The Boldoz Book & Arts Festival is one of the rare times when Uyo feels like a literary city. For two days, books, art, and conversations about culture and identity become the focus. Writers, readers, artists, and curious visitors gather to discuss ideas, tell stories, and share experiences. This year’s theme, “Breaking Stereotypes,” resonated deeply with me. As a young woman from a strict and “orderly” background, I often feel trapped by assumptions about who I am, where I’m from, and the kinds of stories I’m supposed to tell.
At the festival, I attended panels on topics like “Why Men Hate Fiction,” discussions on children’s literature, and talks about how art and culture shape our identities and how we see the world through literature. One highlight was the conversation on “Traditional Publishing vs Self-Publishing,” featuring Adesuwa Nwokedi, Rosemary Okafor, and Shalom Shaba of Gemspread Publishing. Hearing publishing professionals speak honestly about the challenges and possibilities made me feel less lost. It showed me there is room for me if only I dare to open the door.
The Power of Community
But it wasn’t just the programmed sessions that mattered. Between panels and book chats, I found myself talking to strangers who love books as much as I do. For a struggling writer, community is everything. Even though the festival lasts only two days, it leaves behind connections that will last much longer. It’s comforting to know there are others in this city who believe in the power of stories and who are searching for ways to make their voices heard.
Leaving the festival this year, I felt hopeful. I still don’t have all the answers about my writing journey. I still have drafts sitting unfinished, and I still wonder whether anyone will want to read my stories. But the Boldoz Book & Arts Festival reminded me that I’m not alone. It reminded me that being a writer in Uyo is not just about struggling—it’s also about belonging to a community of people who believe words can change how we see ourselves and the world.
That is everything I need to keep writing. I’m still writing essays and poetry that I hope will one day become a published collection—stories about the quiet energy of Uyo and the unseen, complex lives woven into it. That’s why, for me, the Boldoz Book & Arts Festival isn’t just an event. It’s a proof I’m part of something bigger than myself, even in Uyo.
