a different life is possible

and other lessons i learned in 2024

At the close of 2024, I went home to my village for my grandmother’s burial.

It was my first visit since 2017—an opportunity to reconnect with family members, some I hadn’t seen since my teenage years and some I had never met before. Cell service would be terrible, and I would be there for three weeks, sacrificing Rema’s concert and the many nights I could have spent in Lagos parties, dancing in the arms of loved ones.

Although I was worried, my apprehension towards the novelty promised by this trip was eclipsed by an innate desire to experience more of life. I had grown tired of the monotony of Lagos living and craved the strangeness and peace of being away in Abia state, so I stretched out my palms and embraced all the ways I felt the trip would shape me.

And I’m so glad I did.

It’s often spoken about that travel has a way of changing us. But what many people don’t know is that this change can occur without crossing oceans or visiting distant lands. Sometimes, simply living in a different place—within the same country—can transform you in ways you never imagined.

In my village, I saw life ripen before my eyes and tugged at its sweetness. I slept longer than I used to—fourteen hours a day, rather than the six hours I barely squeezed out in Lagos. Time yawned and stretched, laughter fell out of my throat with ease, and I felt a genuine sense of calm. The shadow of stress that hovered perpetually on my neck left me, and for the first time in four years, I felt truly relaxed.

On certain occasions, while eating udara, playing table tennis, or listening to my baby cousins argue and table their issues before me, I would walk out of myself to observe the scene from the outside, marveling at how different life could become in a very short time.

I was reminded of this saying I had held onto all year—a different life is possible—brandishing it like an amulet whenever I got overwhelmed by the demands of daily life. Prior to this trip, it had kept me motivated as I chased dreams of faraway summers in Italy. But how was I to know that the ease I longed for wasn’t waiting in some distant place and could be found here, in my little village in Abia State?

It was in the quiet mornings spent in one of the four buildings in the compound, eating goat meat and drinking malt. The afternoon walks from the compound to the junction in search of udara, soursop, and suya; or watching neighbouring villages compete in football matches. The nights spent slapping our legs because 6-to-6¹ were troubling us, refusing to go inside and miss all the fun of table tennis matches.

It was here, in the simple joys I’d overlooked, waiting patiently to be found.

As I grow older, I’m learning to embrace change—the way it molds, softens, and surprises us. I’ve become less brittle with time, and more open to life’s tectonic shifts. Fourteen-year-old me would be astonished at how much I delight in living now. I’ve changed, and so has my understanding of what I want from life, and what I am capable of.

It means my desires have changed too. My visions. Sometimes, the different life that is possible meets us in the most unexpected ways. We must keep our palms open and allow life to surprise us. It’s the only way.

This was my major takeaway from 2024—that the cards are never all on the table. Life always has one or two under her sleeve, promising a change in perspective and new desires.

A different life is possible, you just have to stay open.

I learned other lessons too.

That you have full agency over your life: Nothing happens without your permission. The places you want to go to, the people you want to meet, and the person you want to be can be willed into existence if you believe and act like it. You don’t have to wait for anybody’s instruction, advice, recommendation, suggestion or vision. Trust yourself more, and move.

That documenting is how you live forever: Documenting is my life’s practice, but I have always approached it as a teacher, sharing my thoughts and telling my stories. In 2024, I discovered how documenting can also be a form of self-advocacy — in your career, when you need to show proof of the work you’ve done. In 2025, I intend to document more meticulously.

Back in the village— I also saw witnessed the preservative nature of documentation, in the memoir we wrote for my grandmother. All those different stories about the same person and the life she’d lived, the ways the accounts of her merged and split apart. One afternoon, while listening to my aunt, the now oldest family member share stories about our history, I thought about how I didn’t want those stories to die with her. How to keep them alive forever.

That curiosity is a form of love: In 2024, I asked and was asked multiple questions by loved ones, and saw how the effect of these questions tightened the fabric of our connections. In this newsletter, I wrote: “when we express curiosity by sitting with them [our loved ones] and asking questions about their lives, we signal an openness that is traded in with even more questions, back and forth, and this way, we are able to knit closer bonds with the people that we’ve chosen to love.”

That the magic needs to be created: On Christmas day, my little cousins complained that there was nothing to do. “Treasure, Christmas is so dry this year” they said. I looked around and noticed that all the adults were busy preparing for the burial the following day. They didn’t have the time or energy to make Christmas “fun.”

It made me remember something I’d always known. That everything you see and love was made by God and man: the magic of Christmas, the softness of love, a fantastic smoothie, a wonderful book. If you want beauty and magic, laughter and fun, you have to cultivate it for yourself, and others. Learn to make yourself happy. Noone else is obligated to do this for you.

That the work you do for others is yours to keep: When working for other people (companies, brands, bosses), there’s often a tendency to feel like you’re simply slaving away, especially when the work is tedious. However, when you realise that you have as much stake in your work as they do, and that the results you get are yours to celebrate or defend, it fosters a sense of ownership and helps you achieve much better results. Cultivate an owner’s mindset. Treat the work entrusted in your care as if it were yours, because it is.

That you get farther by asking for help: Asking for help can be very humbling, especially if you derive pride in cosplaying strength (hello, first daughter here!). In 2024, I learned how to let go of needless shame and ask for help when I needed it the most. I will share more on this in another newsletter, but it truly made the world of a difference.

That you’ll probably be a lot happier doing less: My father uses the example of trying to turn a ceiling fan with your hand. Sure, it’s hard work, but you could simply flip the switch and let the fan do its job, freeing up your time for other tasks. Similarly, instead of juggling 3–4 jobs, could you focus on securing one well-paying job? What steps can you take to make that a reality? (this is a PSA to me).

I enjoyed sharing this piece.

Happy new year.

---

Treasure’s Corner

Beloveds, I hope 2025 is shaping up to be amazing for you. For me, it’s a very serious year. Curious to see what I’m able to achieve with it. This year I intend to post on a stricter schedule. Two newsletters (at least) each month, with a lightbox interview once a month. I also intend to dance more and watch a hundred movies.

My convocation is on Wednesday. I can’t believe I am already a graduate. Wow. Time flies when you are not thinking about the seven years you spent trying to do a five-year course. I am eternally grateful to God and my loved ones for carrying me, and to you guys, for all your words of encouragement through the years.

Thank you for being here for me.

Let’s look at the media I’m currently consuming.

Films: Watched Taxi Driver (1976) by Martin Scorcese. Stunning film. Travis Bickle is probably one of the most multilayered characters I’ve come across in fiction. Leonardo Dicaprio in an interview said that Bickle had ‘deceived him’ and this is by far the best description of his character I’ve seen.

Books: I have read two so far, both recommended by people I really admire: Thinking in Systems by Donella H Meadows and Conversations on Love by Natasha Lunn.

Music: Been listening to a lot of RnB, which is odd — it’s not a genre I usually listen to. I think my ears crave novelty, so if you can, please recommend songs you think I’ve probably never heard before. You can use my Spotify profile to judge.

Wrote two year in review posts. Here’s the first and second one.

Oh, and thank you for 8000+ subscribers! We are going to have so much fun this year.

---

---

Catch up on previous newsletters

---

See you next week!

1. An insect.