My Castle

"Ugh, i never get to send you a good morning text"

"I guess I have to be up super early to make that happen, or stay up till super late"

I had texted siri these messages after she sent a heart emoji some hours back and didn't reply any further because of the discussion i was having with my parents.

Then, she finally replied,

**Vibly 4:56 pm

"What? you don't need to, it's way too early in your time zone, you also don't have to stay up late either lol"

"Sry I haven't replied much for the whole day"

"I have been super busy lately"

"How's your Saturday going "

I sent back my response,

"Figured that you're a bit busy during the weekly basis, it's no bother"

"Heck I'm always 'busy' too"

"So what did you do during the week?"

I was immersed in my phone, scrolling through Vibly messages and social media updates when a faint but persistent knock on my bedroom door disrupted my focus. Without hesitation, I quickly glanced at the door. As it creaked open slowly, I was greeted by the ethereal beauty of my mother.

"Good evening, Mum," I greeted with warmth as she made her way into the room. My younger sister, Favour, followed closely behind, mirroring her role as my mother's faithful companion. She had always displayed an uncanny ability to emulate her, taking after her like a diligent bee following a truck loaded with pollen. My heart swelled with affection for the adorable princess who never ceased to embody her role.

The queen of our household, my mother, gracefully settled herself on a sofa situated just a few inches from the door. I sat up from my bed, positioning myself at the edge, a mere few meters away from the sofa. Favour joined them, settling beside my mother on the same sofa. The atmosphere was cordial, and it was the kind of familial scene I often cherished.

However, beneath the surface, I sensed an impending storm. My mother's gentle smile, which initially graced her face, seemed laden with an unspoken concern. She paused, her eyes locking onto mine with a hint of hesitation. It was evident she was struggling to find the right words, but eventually, she cleared her throat and spoke.

"Daniel," she began tentatively, her voice carrying an air of apprehension.

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. This was a familiar tune, one that I had heard more times than I could count. My mother had always harbored the ambition of sending me abroad to further my education. To her, it was an aspiration rooted in the pursuit of better opportunities, but to me, it felt like an unrelenting storm cloud that loomed ominously on the horizon.

Ever since I had completed my secondary education, the idea of pursuing electrical engineering overseas had been the unwavering dream my parents held for me. Their vision was clear – they believed that an education obtained in foreign lands, particularly in Western countries, would open doors to prosperous careers and limitless opportunities. They had legitimate reasons for their perspective, citing better educational facilities, well-established infrastructure, and broader horizons. Nevertheless, I had never been entirely comfortable with the idea of being an immigrant.

Despite my reservations, the relentless insistence from my parents had reached a point where I felt compelled to address the matter directly. I had conveyed my feelings honestly, explaining how their decisions was affecting my mental health and overall well-being. The pressure they had exerted on me had left me feeling stifled and emotionally drained.

My bold declaration against their wishes seemed to have had some effect, and the pressure had lessened – or rather, it had become more subdued, especially in my presence.

I couldn't help but remember the journey that had led me to this point in my life, where I was now able to stand firm in my decisions. In the past, I had been somewhat of a passive observer in my own life, torn between the expectations of my family and my own aspirations. However, one significant turning point had reshaped the trajectory of my existence.

Back then while i was still in college pursuing my National Diploma in Electrical Engineering, I had stumbled upon a passion that had, in time, evolved into my calling. Content writing became my muse, and I ventured into the realm of online literature, It was there that I had found my voice and my audience.

I took the bold step of publishing my very first novel on WebNovel, and it had been an unexpected success. The story had resonated with readers, and I had gradually garnered a dedicated following. This newfound career in content writing not only fulfilled my creative ambitions but also provided a source of income.

It was this financial independence that had allowed me to move out of my parents' home and set my own course. The sense of self-sufficiency was liberating, and I was no longer bound by their expectations. With each successful contract I secured, my confidence grew, and I had taken charge of my own destiny.

While I was grateful for the temporary respite, it was evident that their desire for me to study abroad still simmered beneath the surface. The mere mention of the topic could reignite the debate and unleash the pressures I had sought to escape.

As my mother cleared her throat, her expression remained a delicate balance between motherly concern and determination. "Daniel," she said, "I've been thinking about your future. I believe you have so much potential, and studying abroad could provide you with countless opportunities to reach your full potential.

Here it was, the topic that had been a constant presence in our lives, suddenly looming once more like a dormant beast now awakened.

Despite the ongoing discussions about studying abroad, my writing career had emboldened me to stand firm in my decisions. I had come to understand the value of pursuing my passion and not just a predefined path. The stability of a traditional career in electrical engineering was not my only definition of success; it was the ability to create and share stories that resonated with others that truly fulfilled me.

The high rise of immigration from Nigeria to other countries had undoubtedly fueled my parents' aspirations for me. The promise of greener pastures and greater prospects overseas had captured the imagination of many, including my own family. The pursuit of a foreign education was, for them, a means to escape the challenges and limitations they perceived in their home country.

As the conversation began to take its familiar shape, it was clear that my mother's arguments were deeply rooted in a desire for my success and happiness. It was an earnest plea for a brighter future. However, for me, the idea of leaving behind my home, my family, and the life I had known was a daunting prospect.

I could feel the familial pressures closing in once more, much like the larger narrative of migration that had gripped so many families in Nigeria.

The storm clouds of the past discussions with my family still loomed, but I had built my own fortress of conviction. The world of content writing was my castle, and I had no intention of abandoning it for foreign shores, at least not in the near future.

As my mother's words faded into the background, I smiled warmly at her, appreciating her genuine concern. "Mom," I began, "I truly understand your perspective, and I appreciate the opportunities that studying abroad can provide. But right now, I'm focused on my career here in Nigeria, and I believe it's the path that will lead me to my own success and happiness."

My mother nodded, her eyes revealing a mixture of pride and understanding. "Your happiness is what truly matters to us," she said. "We just want the best for you."

My sister, Favour, chimed in, "Daniel's novels are amazing, Mom. He's going to be a famous writer, and I'll be the first to get his autograph!"

The tension in the room began to dissipate as we transitioned into a lighter discussion, sharing stories of my recent experiences in content writing and the characters I had brought to life in my novels. The storm clouds that had momentarily gathered seemed to disperse, allowing room for the sun to shine through our family bonds.

The differences in our career perspectives remained, but the love that bound us together was unshaken. This wasn't the first discussion about my future, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

But as long as we could find common ground amidst our differing views, I believed that we could weather any storm that came our way.

It was in the warmth of our family unity that I found the strength to keep pursuing my own dreams, to follow my passion for content writing, and to embrace the path that was uniquely mine.

The storm clouds may linger, but as long as we held onto the ties that bound us, I had faith that we could navigate the challenges together, as a family.