What Literature Taught Me About Tech.

It’s Monday morning in Lagos. The city is awake before I am. The air is loud. Danfo buses are honking. Someone is selling puff-puff at the junction. Another is sprinting for BRT.
Somebody’s shouting “Bole!” on the street.
NEPA has blinked and come back.
In this city, everyone is moving, trying, striving. And so am I.

But today, I’m not just chasing buses—I’m chasing a bug.

Yes, I’ve been debugging a single error for three days. Three whole days.
I’ve skipped sleep.
I’ve questioned my career.
I’ve re-read every line.

My homepage looks fine. But three days ago, I was on my toes, like some developers, and still trying to look pretty. The page was showing “Hello world!” like I just opened a shop yesterday.
I added my AdSense code. But Google was still doing “pending pending.”
I clicked the “Edit Page” so many times, I was then dreaming in dashboard mode.
At that point, even my WP theme was gaslighting me.

But you know what? I was not panicking.
Because I’ve been there before, again and again.

Last year, I had spent three days debugging a single error in my code.
Guess the problem? One missing comma. I had laughed till I cried.
And that’s when I realized:

Everything I learned in Literature is saving me in tech.

Because somehow, it took me back to literature class. Back to reading Chinua Achebe and Chimamanda Adichie and discovering how a sentence could change its entire meaning with the wrong punctuation. Back to school days when one misplaced metaphor could ruin your summary.
That’s when it hit me—Literature trained me for this.

The precision.
The rhythm.
The awareness that every tiny detail matters.
The discipline of proofreading.
The instinct to read between lines.
The patience to wait for the right meaning to appear.

That comma moment taught me to slow down and pay attention—and that mindset is why I’m not throwing my laptop out the window today.

Because life, like code, is full of debugging.
And WordPress, like literature, demands focus.
One wrong tag, and your homepage becomes a ghost town.

When I write code, I hear language. I edit like I’m sculpting a sentence. I wait like a writer waits for the perfect word.
And every now and then, I celebrate tiny wins like this fixed homepage —the same way I once celebrated finding the right thesis for a term paper.

Why It Matters?

You don’t need to be a developer or writer to relate.
This is for:
The new blogger trying to fix their menu.
Students learning new skills.
Job seekers editing CVs.
The Nigerian girl trying to juggle God, goals, and Google.
Because no matter where you are—on your laptop, in traffic, at work—attention to detail is your secret sauce.

So, to the Nigerian girl moving through Monday…

Check twice; don’t rush past your details.
Breathe before deleting.
Rest when your brain starts spinning.
Then come back and try again.