Serendipity farming

On actively seeking out the magic of life (+ something for you at the end!)

Children of Cuba, taken by Duqueiros

Children scare me sometimes.

The things that come out of their mouths??

You could be hanging outdoors with them, minding your business, when suddenly, they dash off, their curiosity running faster than their legs, to ask a total stranger something like: “Sir, why are you using a walking stick when you’re not old?”

Like??—It’s insane.

Last December, a politician came over to our family house in the village with an entourage of ten to fifteen military men. My baby cousin, without a care in the world, walked up to one of the soldiers and asked, "Why are you so many in our house?"

I was shook. Could never myself imagine doing that.

See, over the years I’ve watched myself grow into a “sensible” adult, wary of change, careful in her involvement with people and life as a whole. But it’s not just me. I look at my friends and see a fermentation happening. . . a jading of some sort. It leaves me wondering if this sensibility we tend to develop as we get older is what squeezes out the juice of life, leaving us a little dull. . . and dry.

I didn’t always love being a child, but there are some things I miss about that stage. For one, how every moment felt like an opportunity to taste and discover more about the world we lived in. As kids, we’d put everything in our mouths, and paint the walls with crayons, much to the dismay of our parents. We were seekers of delight, adventurous in spirit, full of life. We’d visit the homes of strangers who had kids our age and make friends on the spot, without even knowing if we’d ever see them again. Do first, think later was our motto, and as a result, our ability to nurture serendipity was very high.

Google Dictionary defines serendipity as “the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.” Cambridge defines it as, “the fact of finding interesting or valuable things by chance.”

Looking back at my childhood, I realise so many of the things I know and love today were things I stumbled upon, by chance, because I was curious and open and willing to experience them. The great loves of my life — rock bands and kpop, and writers like Baldwin and Sexton were all fortunate “stumblings.” I found them because I was in a perpetual state of openness, which granted them permission to roll my way.

But as the story goes, I grew older, and straight-jacketed myself into habits, aesthetics, structures, and patterns, without realising any of this was even happening. I assume the same thing happened to you as well. One day, you liked yellow, and the next day, someone made a comment about how it didn’t go well with your skin tone so you stopped wearing it. Theatre used to be your thing, till you started feeling silly because your cousins thought it was a little cringe, so you stopped attending practice.

Now looking back, you are left wondering how a life lived with big eyes and restless legs and curious hands and so many whys could transmogrify into a Rubik’s cube of select places, feelings, people, and things, with little wiggle room for excitement or change. The days blur together—waking up, working, doomscrolling, sleeping—and repeat. We conceal our discontent with virtuous mantras like “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side” and while it is true that we should make the most of our lot in life, I cannot help but wonder whether that childlike willingness to run faster than our legs, and touch, and taste, and feel is still useful today, and can help us live better, more fulfilling lives as adults.

Early 2022, I made a friend called Ruqayyah. She was so beautiful, loved books like me, and lived in Kaduna; so I would always tell her about Lagos. Then one day, she decided to visit. As we sat in an eatery, getting to know each other in person, I told her about a bookstore I wanted to visit, called Ouida. I had seen it once on the internet and was feeling adventurous, so we found the address and went in. The bookstore was quiet but warm, and we instantly felt at home. It was a Thursday, the first of the month, and the receptionist told us there’d be an event that night—an open mic—where we could listen to creatives share their art. So, we decided to stay. We both performed and oh my, it was such a beautiful experience.

That spontaneous decision to wander into a bookshop on a Thursday afternoon was my ticket to a whole new world of Lagos-based creatives. Among them, Michael

Oríadé

, who would soon become a dear friend. Meeting Michael would connect me with even more amazing people and would give me the opportunity to build Marketers Therapy, a community for marketers in Nigeria.

It’s funny how such random decisions and interactions can create serendipitous moments that shape life in meaningful ways. It’s how I stumbled into the world of Marketing in the first place. Late 2021, I attended a tech event in Lagos called DevFest, on a whim. It was an event mainly for tech developers, and my creative, writerly self had no business being there—but I was curious and open, so I went. And somehow, my going spun a series of events that have given me the tech content marketing career I have today.

Events are fertile grounds for serendipity farming—they allow you to be spontaneous, to embrace whimsy, and make room for some magic to happen. But I think beyond attending gatherings that encourage us to connect with new people and shimmy out of the constraints of the lives we’ve chosen to live, it’s up to us to do the work of consistently farming serendipity, every day.

This means you have to be the one to reach out to a stranger and strike up a conversation about their interesting choice of jewellery, dance like nobody’s watching at a party, offer compliments after church to random strangers, like my friend Nifemi does. It means you have to decide to go check out a new community space in your city just to see what’s happening there, volunteer to help a friend move her things, and follow a recipe you found on TikTok to see if it would look as great. If you want to have more diversity of experience, you must be willing to reach into yourself every day and find the seven-year-old inside you who does not hesitate to ask the random kid sitting in her parent’s living room, “Would you like to play? I have toys upstairs!”

The reason is simple: you will only be able to recreate that magic and excitement you felt as a child if you are willing to play a role in making it happen. It doesn’t even have to be an active one. Could be as passive as saying yes to a random invite from a guy you’ve known for a couple of years, or engaging a talkative stranger in the grocery store.

These experiences always have a way of becoming something a little more for us—
A funny story we tell at parties.
A wonderful connection that decides to stay.
A new lens or perspective from which we can examine our lives.

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Speaking of serendipity farming, Zikoko—always in tune with the pulse of young Africans—is bringing HERtitude back for a fourth edition on the 26th of April.

For those who don’t know, HERtitude is a women-only party that happens every year. The theme for this year’s event is, Retro Glam (think the 90s, 80s, 70s, Y2K), and the team is cooking up a lot of attractions, including a fashion show, music performances, games, and so much more.

I’ve attended HERtitude twice, in 2022 and 2024, and it’s become one of those things I look forward! I’ve also gotten a discount for subscribers of the newsletter, so you can save up some coins. Just use the code "RETROBABE25" for 20% off when trying to get your ticket. (You’re welcome! Mwah!)

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Treasure’s Corner

My birthday is also on the 26th of April. Seems like all the cool events are happening that day. 😉

Hi everyone, it’s been a while! Between the last newsletter and this one, we got to 10,000+ subscribers! WOAH! That’s crazyyy! I really am grateful that I get to write every once in a while to such amazing people! Thank you for being here, and I hope my words have provided comfort and nurturing for you, in one way or the other.

I love you guys!

There’s a lot going on lifewise for me atm (to be revealed in the next newsletter) but I quit my jobs and have been taking some time off everything. I have been tired for a while, so this is me trying to return to myself. It feels very odd, and sometimes I find myself staring at the ceiling, listless, but it’s only because I am not used to being inactive.

Media I’m consuming

Currently reading: Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison. Great book. I don’t know how she did it but I reread sentences all the time to figure out how and why and bruh. If you want to be a better writer, carefully read Morrison.

Currently watching: Abbott Elementary. I finished Succession (the first TV show I’m completing—please clap for me), then The Residence (really good!!), and Study Group, a K-drama I found dramatically cheesy but also super endearing. I have been very into “hope” lately, and as a result, I have been leaning into shows threaded with innocence and the belief that life can be a lot better.

Currently listening: to my thoughts atm.

That’s it for this week’s newsletter. I hope you loved it!

See you again (hopefully soon)!