
Cheers to 2025
Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of
“When you find your passion, it would never feel like work”
5th November
Oh well…. Time flies, that’s what they usually say. It’s a cliché to say that I only just started yesterday. But it’s been two years already with the akinakingbogun.com project- a personal branding project!
I remember vividly the conversation that triggered a call to action for me. It was an easy but long phone call with an old schoolmate, where we tried to catch up on family, work and life generally.
I have written about him here once before. We spoke for close to an hour, reminiscing about our adventures in secondary school along that bright and pleasurable memory lane.
We talked about my literary exploits in secondary school fondly. In particular we pondered on my writing skills and how my colleagues would wait on end just to read a chapter off one of my numerous novels.
Even I loved the thoughts. But I was jolted out of it when he expressed his disappointment that I had stopped writing completely. He went on about how he had hoped that I would be on the big stage competing with the literary giants of our times and how he couldn’t imagine that I gave everything up.
Ofcourse I tried to defend myself. I told him, I deployed my fancy writing skills in preparing memos, technical reports and justification for my current workplace. I was kind to let him know that I got my approval for these memos effortlessly.
It was a feeble attempt to justify my utter disappointment in myself.
The high pitched conversation soon paled into sunken whisper and a commitment to do something about it.
I suppose I should say a big thank you Nuvie. That is if I haven’t said it a dozen times already. I found my mojo back!
That telephone conversation was in September 2019. The first post on akinakingbogun.com went live two months later on 5th November 2019 with the help of my young mentee and friend Vincent Mayaki.
I remember I also had to seek consent from my wife on this project and we agreed to exclude all talks of my private life and family. This was easy to agree to, I wasn’t in any mood to share anyway.
Then I added a bit more boundaries; I was going to stay off topics or subjects that were divisive and controversial – Sports, Politics and Religion.
I recollect a certain conversation with a colleague of mine from my SMP 69 alumni – Martins, who shared a truly different opinion about excluding topics around the three headers. He was of the opinion that news around the three forbidden topics were the most sought after and easy to write about. While I agreed with him, I was convinced that the reader experience on the blog must constantly remain warm and easy, devoid of the disputes that accompanies those topics.
At the time I put up the first post in November, I had written over a dozen post waiting to be uploaded. Vincent struggled to catch up with the pace. I was literally on fire!
By November 2021, I would have notched up just about 250 post on the blog. I would also have published my first book in print – The Prisoner of Fate.
Up until now, I have written over 150 posts, completed three unpublished crime-fiction stories, launched my coaching practise, shot 15videos, experimented with podcast, worked with a dozen feature writers for which I must credit with beautiful write-ups that bridged the gap when my energy wavered and worked with 3 sets of social media manager to lend the project a voice and visibility in the digital space (Twitter and Instagram).
Nothing could prepare me for the wonderful people I have met along the way who sent personal messages to encourage me or made Sterling comments on the blog stories. Every comment I got gave me the energy to continue writing.
I had the unflinching support from my siblings, extended family, in-laws and close friends too who put my post up every time I shared them giving it a boost a quality readership.
Last year (2020), the blog was visited 35,000times and this year, we have already surpassed the 30,000 mark in August!
There is a lot more to accomplish and I can promise you I haven’t even scratched the surface.
Watch this space, as I will be launching my first book and I could use all your support.
Thank you, I love y’all.

Every New Year holds promise, as though it is any different from the turn of

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

Let me take you somewhere. Not to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean — at least, not yet. First, to Lagos. Nigeria. Sometime in the late 1980s. A teenager who should probably have been revising for exams is instead sitting cross-legged on the floor of a library, holding a book that is older than most of the furniture around it, reading about a city beneath the sea.

This is my story of discovering a film that challenged everything I thought I knew about the gift of time, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to leap beyond your limitations and appreciate the beauty of growing old.
This story explores the paradox of immortality and why a movie from 2015 still resonates so deeply with audiences today.
I hope you find it worth your time.

This is my story, every pulsating detail documented to inspire you to question what you know and leap beyond your limitations.
This story is about the audacity of belief, the power of a well-told lie, and the journey to unlearn the things that poisoned my teenage mind.
I hope you find it worth your time.

There is a category of question that polite intellectual company tends to avoid: the kind that, if you pull the thread long enough, begins to unravel not just a specific mystery but the entire fabric of what we think we know about human history. The Pyramids of Giza are that thread. They have been standing in the Egyptian desert for roughly 4,500 years.

There is a peculiar kind of madness that does not arrive with hallucinations or trembling hands. It arrives quietly. At two in the morning. In a small desert town in New Mexico. It sounds like an idling diesel engine somewhere in the distance — except there is no engine. It sounds like a bass note being held by an invisible orchestra — except there is no orchestra.

Let me confess something. Long before LinkedIn articles, podcasts, and leadership keynotes became my world, I was a teenager sneaking to the library

In an era that increasingly demands hyper-specialization, Akin Akingbogun stands out as a refreshing anomaly. He is a man who refuses to be confined to a single box.

There is a particular kind of silence that falls on a man when the phone stops ringing, the proposals go unanswered, and the diary that once groaned under the weight of appointments sits quietly — almost mockingly — open. If you have ever been there, you know it.

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: the most generous person you know — the one who volunteers every weekend, donates quietly, never asks for anything in return — is probably getting something out of it. Not money. Maybe not even recognition. But something.

Adaeze had been awake since 4 a.m.
Not because she was anxious — though she was — but because this trip felt different. After eighteen months of follow-ups, phone calls, and PowerPoint presentations polished to a mirror shine, the deal was finally ready to close. An investor meeting in Abuja. A partnership that would change the trajectory of her small but gutsy consulting firm. She had triple-checked her flight, her documents, her outfit. She had prayed. She was ready.

When he told his father, Dare’s first response was a sigh. Then: “I told you to practice more. I told you months ago. You don’t listen. You never listen.”
There was no “I’m sorry, son.” No pause to let the boy simply feel the loss of the thing he wanted. Just a swift, seamless pivot to what Temi had done wrong — and, by extension, how Temi’s failure was evidence of Temi’s failure to take his father’s wisdom seriously.

I want to tell you something that took me embarrassingly long to learn. Not because the idea is complicated — it is not. But because it cuts against something deeply wired in us, something we are rarely honest enough to admit.
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6 thoughts on “Two years don waka- we still dey carry go!”
Congratulations bro.
Just like yesterday.
“You’re doing well!”…. in the voice of Mr. Macaroni.
Sincerely, the platform has been awesome since coming live. It has become a “go-to” for information about many life issues, concerns and matters. Posts there are rich in knowledge and inspiring. Not to talk of many hilarious but educative posts written by you personally or from many of your bright minds who contributed to the platform in writing. You all are great.
I can only wish you and your team all the best as you continue to keep the flag flying.
Congratulations once again.
God bless you.
Well done dear. You’ve always loved to write and interact with people with positive minds. I’m really glad that it’s all working out for good.
Congratulations.
Thank you darling!
Good Job, keep it up
Thank you NikkyPompom. You are an avid supported all the way
Well done omo Akin,keep the fire burning