Hope against all odds


Weeping may endure for the night, but joy will come in the morning.

I know pain.

Heck I dare say she is my neighbor: an unwanted one to say the least.

I grew up an unfortunate child and I consider myself the biggest failure I know.

At 25 and brimming with possibilities and prospects, fate threw me her first punch and a devastating one it was.


It was as if the whole world was in a conspiracy and I was the foremost target. I felt withdrawn from everything around me and had to put my dreams on hold.

That dream was all I had: I had built my identity around it and it defined everything about me but I had to give it up at that moment.

When the pain was too much for me to handle, I left my country for a new one. I knew I needed the change of environment and a fresh start; I needed to feel the peculiar sensation of a new beginning.

I travelled to a new country and braced myself to dream, hope and love again.

Things were looking good once again: I found both love and a new job and took the bold step to devote my life to another human whom I felt I could spend the rest of my life with.

But just when the gay lines of a smile was beginning to form in my wrinkled and creased face; fate lunged at me again in full force wielding her iron fist and launching a barrage of lethal blows.

My knight in shining armor became a monster in familiar garb and my fairytale love affair turned sour before my prayers could reach the skies.

I got divorced and I lost my job.

I was back to my familiar position only this time, I had sunk lower than the previous scenario.

As if that wasn’t enough, what was supposed to constitute joy in my life became a burden I wished never happen: my baby girl gotten from my failed marriage.

Depression soon moved next door to me and every day she would visit me and explain why suicide is the best way out of my predicament.

Storried Dreaming Through the Night

“Everyone is doing it, you need to try it,” she would say over and over again.

They say persistence is the mother of results: soon my mind began to dance to the tune of depression and I began to see life as the least favorable option and death as an escape.

I considered suicide daily for a while and then it seemed like the best way out, but soon I found comfort in my dream again.

Like the old saying which goes, “the best place to begin is from rock bottom,” I decided to give my dreams another shot.

I found comfort in the solace of my pen and once again there was a ray of hope in the dark tunnel that was my life.

Basically, everything I felt, I put them in words and related them to the characters that I created. This gave me a sense of control over something seeing that I had lost the wheels of mine.

Eventually, I finished my brainchild and flawless masterpiece but when I pitched my dream book to publishers, I was told that what I had wasn’t relevant.

I fought through the drowning sense of rejection and hopelessness and a few years later I transited from being broke and depressed to being a billionaire.

My name is J K Rowlings and this is my story of hope against all odds.


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Weeping may endure for the night, but joy will come in the morning.

I know pain.


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