Muhammad Haris Iqbal

08/04/2026

My 10th research paper is published. Alhamdulillah.

I want to share this one properly because it means something to me and because the study itself is worth knowing about.

This paper analyze Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart through the lens of raciolinguistics. Most literary analysis of this novel focuses on what the Igbo say, or what colonial power takes away from them. My study asks a different question entirely: how did the colonial system hear them?

There is a difference between being silenced and being heard as inadequate. Colonialism did not just suppress Igbo language. It built a listening apparatus that decided, before any conversation began, that Igbo speakers could never sound legitimate enough.

Achebe understood this. And he wrote back against it, not by proving the Igbo were legitimate by colonial standards, but by building a completely different framework that never used those standards at all.

That is the argument I develop across the paper, drawing on five passages from the novel and applying the raciolinguistic ideologies framework to literary text, which itself is a methodological contribution the field has not fully explored.

It has been published in the Journal of Language, Literature and Social Affairs, Vol. 2, No. 1, 2026. Pages 44 to 51.

https://scholarclub.org/index.php/jllsa/article/view/154

Muhammad Haris Iqbal

Founder, Englocity Writer | Academic Writer and Copywriter

Raciolinguistic Ideologies and the Colonial Listening Apparatus in Achebe’s Things Fall Apart: A Raciolinguistic Reading Authors Muhammad Haris Independent Researcher, Peshawar, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Pakistan Keywords: Raciolinguistic ideologies, colonial listening apparatus, standardizing gaze, Thi...

01/04/2026

𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖜𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖑𝖘.

Google Search is out. Perplexity is in.

ChatGPT replaced by Claude.

PowerPoint by Gamma. Keyboard by voice. The list goes on.

And honestly, I get it. Things are moving fast. If you blink, you are already behind.

But here is what nobody is saying out loud.

When I first started as a writer, I made the same mistake most people are making right now. I was chasing the tool instead of building the skill. I thought if I just used the right software, learned the right platform, stayed current with every update, I would be ahead of everyone else. So I kept switching. Kept updating. Kept learning the newest thing.

And I was still producing mediocre content.

It took me a while to understand why.

The tool does not know your reader. The tool does not know what makes a sentence land or why a paragraph loses momentum halfway through. My linguistics training taught me that language has structure, and that structure is what moves people. Not the software you use to produce it.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐥.

Every single time. No matter what year it is.

By all means, learn the new tools. Use them. Save time with them.

But do not let the tool become a substitute for the skill underneath it.

The tools on that list will look completely different by 2027. The fundamentals of good writing will not.

What do you think?

Are we spending too much time learning tools and not enough time mastering the craft?

30/03/2026

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Nobody warns you about that part.

When I started freelancing, I would check my inbox first thing every morning hoping something had come in.

𝐀 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟. 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

And when the work finally started coming, I felt like I had made it.

Every project felt exciting. Every deadline felt like proof I was building something real. Writing was not a job. It was a reward.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝.

The inbox never emptied. One client needed a draft by Thursday. Another needed revisions by Friday. A third had just dropped a 4,000-word brief on a Sunday night. I was saying yes to everything because I still had the hunger of someone who had nothing.

But now I had too much.

I was writing faster. Sleeping less. Skipping the revision pass I used to take pride in. The quality started slipping in ways only I could see. And the thing that once gave me energy started draining it.

I was not a writer anymore. I was a machine trying to keep up with itself.

Here is what I wish someone had told me earlier.

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

When you overload yourself, you do not deliver more. You deliver worse. Your best client gets 60% of you. Your reputation takes the hit. And your passion, the thing that made you good at this in the first place, quietly disappears.

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞.

First, I started setting a project cap. A maximum number of active clients at any one time. Not based on income. Based on how much I could genuinely give to each one.

Second, I built a small trusted network of writers who work the way I do. So when a good project came in at the wrong time, I had someone I could hand it to without worrying about quality. Not outsourcing blindly. Passing it carefully.

Your name is on everything that leaves your desk.

Protect the standard. Even if it means turning down the money.

How do you manage your workload when too much comes in at once?

25/03/2026

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤.

I had been waiting for work to come in for so long.

Then it all arrived at once.

And every client expected the same thing: your best work, on time, no excuses.

The pressure was not just about finishing. It was about finishing well without letting anyone down.

Here is what I did:

Separate folders for every project Before writing a single word, I create a dedicated folder for each project on my PC. Drafts, research, references, all in one place. No mixing. No confusion.

Assign a time block to each task I map out every available hour and distribute them deliberately. Each project gets its own window. I treat that window the way I treat a client commitment. Because it is one.

Follow the system strictly Not approximately. Not loosely. Strictly. The moment I start bending my own rules, quality starts to slip. And I refuse to let that happen.

𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲?

No.

But it works far more often than winging it ever did.

When everything demands your attention at once, structure is not a nice-to-have. It is the only thing standing between you and a missed deadline.

Have you ever managed multiple projects under the same deadline? What system did you use?

24/03/2026

𝐀 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 $10 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫

Not $10 per page.

$10. Total.

He had gone through my proposal. Visited my website. Said he was impressed.

Then the number came in.

3,000 PKR.

I thought it was a typo. Genuinely. So I asked him:

"Did you mean 30,000?"

He said no.

I sat there staring at the screen. Could not move. Could not type back. Not out of anger.

Out of sheer disbelief.

Because here is what 3,000 PKR was asking me to do:

Read. Research. Source credible references. Build structured arguments. Write 3,000 to 4,000 words of clean, citation-heavy academic content.

That is hours of conscious effort. Not a quick draft. Not a social media caption.

A research paper.

And he thought $10 covered it.

Here is what I have learned since then. And what every freelancer needs to hear:

The problem is not the client. The problem is the gap.

Most lowball offers happen because the client genuinely does not know what professional writing costs. They have never hired a writer. They have no reference point.

That means it is your job to close that gap before the conversation even starts.

Here is how:

📌 Put your minimum rate where people can see it Display your starting price on your profile, your website, your proposal. A 2024 study found that 81% of freelancers receive offers at least 50% below their rate. Most of those offers could be filtered out before they ever land in your inbox.

📌 Ask about budget before you pitch One question saves hours: "What is your estimated budget for this project?" If the number does not match your minimum, you decline before investing time and energy.

📌 Know your floor. Do not negotiate below it A research paper at the lowest market rate starts at $75 for 1,000 words. A 4,000-word research paper from an experienced academic writer sits between $300 and $600 minimum. Know these numbers. Anchor your rate to them. Do not apologise for them.

📌 Respond with warmth. Decline with clarity You do not need to lecture. You do not need to argue. A simple, professional reply is enough: "I understand my rate may not fit your current budget. I wish you well finding the right fit." Then move on.

📌 Walk away without guilt Not every client is your client. Accepting a rate that insults your time does not build loyalty. It builds a pattern.

Your rate is not a negotiation tactic. It is a signal of what you believe your work is worth.

If you do not protect it, no one else will.

Have you ever been lowballed to the point you just could not respond?

19/03/2026

𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲.

And honestly? That might be the best thing that ever happened to writers.

I spent the last few weeks going through peer-reviewed research on this. Not the hype. The actual data. Here is what I found.

A 2025 PLOS ONE neuroimaging study found that writers using AI showed significantly lower brain activity in creative regions. Fewer alpha waves. Weaker memory encoding. 80% could not even quote their own AI-assisted work back.

Doshi and Hauser (2024, Harvard Business School) found that AI improved individual story quality by up to 9%. But collectively, all stories became 10% more similar. Everyone got slightly better. At the exact same flavor.

Michigan Ross ran 16 experiments across 27,000 participants. AI-tagged work dropped reader enjoyment by 6.2%. Not because it was worse. Because it felt empty. Authenticity is not a feeling. It is a measurable variable.

And a 2026 study in SDU International Journal of Educational Studies found that 44% of participants cited reduced creativity as their biggest concern about AI, even though 90% used it positively. The tension is real. The guidance is not there yet.

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘀.

AI is not killing creativity. It is killing the creativity that was already on life support. The kind built on templates, formulas, and playing it safe.

The gut-punch of a real story? AI cannot feel it. The sarcasm that lands because you lived it? AI cannot replicate it. The specific human detail that makes someone stop scrolling? Still yours.

I use AI tools. But I never let them replace the one thing clients actually pay for.

𝗠𝘆 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲. 𝗠𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵. 𝗠𝘆 𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗴𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁.

The flood of AI content is the filter now. It separates writers who think from writers who paste.

Your weird, messy, lived-in human voice? That is the premium product in 2026.

Do not outsource it.

Are you using AI to write faster or to think less? There is a real difference. Drop your answer in the comments

18/03/2026

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

Not because they picked the wrong tool.

Because they never learned what each tool actually does for a writer.

I see it every day. Someone pastes a prompt into ChatGPT, gets a generic paragraph, calls it content, and wonders why nobody engages. Someone else uses Perplexity like it is a search engine and misses the fact that it can source and verify every claim in their academic paper in minutes.

The tool is not the problem. Not knowing how to use it is.

Here is what three years of writing over 3,000 projects taught me about these five tools:

ChatGPT is where your drafts begin. Feed it your voice. Batch your first versions. Then refine everything yourself.

Grok is your hook machine. It tells you what your audience is saying right now. Open with that language and watch your engagement change.

Gemini is your research engine. Live data, Google Docs integration, real stats that make your copy credible and specific.

Claude is your editor. It preserves your voice while tightening everything that does not need to be there. Best for long copy and academic work.

Perplexity is your fact-checker. Every claim. Every stat. Cited and verified before you hit publish.

I made a full breakdown of how writers specifically should be using each one.

Saved it as a visual guide you can come back to.

But here is the one thing I want you to remember before you screenshot it.

AI multiplies what a skilled writer already has. It cannot replace what you never built.

If you have not yet invested in your craft, no tool will save you. If you have, every single one of these will make you faster, sharper, and more consistent than you have ever been.

Which one of these are you already using in your writing? Drop it in the comments.

17/03/2026

Claude AI in chrome !

17/03/2026

This is the laptop I started my freelancing career on.

Core i3, 4th generation, 4GB of RAM.

Most people would not even open a browser on this. Let alone build a career.

But in 2023, this was everything I had.

I was teaching for 25,000 rupees a month. Every single rupee was accounted for.

There was nothing left for courses, tools, or a better machine. And the worst part? Everyone around me kept saying the same thing.

"You need a better laptop first."

"You need capital first."

"You need the right conditions first."

I almost believed them.

Because the truth is, when you are starting with nothing, the problem is not just money. It is the voice in your head that says you are not ready. That the conditions are not right. That people like you do not make it.

That voice is the real problem. Not the laptop.

So I made a decision. I stopped waiting for the right conditions and started building in the wrong ones. Late nights. Slow machine. Teaching job still running in the background. No shortcuts.

Three years later, 3,000 plus projects completed. 150 plus research papers published for clients across Pakistan, the UK, and beyond.

Here is what I want every aspiring freelancer to hear today.

Stop waiting for perfect. Start with what you have. Invest in your skill first, then your visibility. Build slowly, build consistently, and trust the process.

The laptop never held me back. The decision to start is what moved everything forward.

What is the one thing you are waiting on before you start? Drop it in the comments. Let's work through it together.

Muhammad Haris Iqbal, Founder, Englocity Writer | Academic Writer and Copywriter

17/03/2026

𝐈 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Academic writer. Copywriter. Blogger. Translator. CV writer. Speech writer.

I took every project that came my way. Every niche. Every format. Every deadline.

And I was busy. But I was not growing.

The truth I had to learn the hard way is that being available for everything does not make you valuable. It makes you forgettable.

The moment I narrowed my focus to academic writing and copywriting, two areas I had genuine expertise in, everything changed.

My clients got better results. My rates went up. And for the first time, people started coming to me instead of me chasing them.

Specialisation is not limiting. It is the most powerful positioning decision you will ever make.

If you are a writer, a consultant, or a freelancer stuck in the cycle of doing everything for everyone, ask yourself this:

What do I do better than most? Start there. Build from there. Own that space.

The riches really are in the niches.

16/03/2026

I lost a client. Not because of my writing. Because of someone else's.

I was at a point in my freelancing career where work was coming in faster than I could handle it.

Good problem to have, right?

So I did what every "smart" freelancer eventually does. I outsourced. I found a writer, briefed the project, trusted the process, and told myself this was how you scale. This was how you buy back your time.

The project came back. I submitted it.

And then came the message I will never forget.

My client, someone I had been building a relationship with for months, wrote back and said something that stopped me cold.

"This does not sound like you. This was written by someone else."

He was right.

In one moment, everything I had spent months building, the trust, the credibility, the reputation for quality, was gone. Not because I was careless. Not because I did not care. But because I handed over something I should have protected.

I did not just lose a project that day. I lost a client who believed in me. And that hurt far more than any payment ever could.

That experience taught me something I carry into every project I take on now.

Your name is on the work. All of it. Every word. Every sentence. Every deliverable. When a client chooses you, they are not just buying a service. They are buying your voice, your judgment, and your standards. The moment you hand that off to someone else without complete oversight, you are gambling with the one thing that took years to build.

Your reputation.

So I made a decision after that day. I would never again put my name on work I did not write myself. I would rather take fewer projects, work longer hours, and deliver slower than risk what happened that one afternoon.

Quality is not a feature. It is a promise. And a promise only means something when you keep it yourself.

Have you ever faced something like this in your freelancing career? A moment where outsourcing, trusting the wrong person, or cutting corners cost you more than you expected?

I would love to hear your story in the comments.

16/03/2026

I am back!

Hey everyone!

It has been almost a year since my last post on March 29, 2025. I lost access to this page for some time, but I have finally gotten it back.

I just want to say thank you to everyone who stayed and waited. It really means a lot to me.

I am back now and I will be posting regularly from today. Thank you so much for your patience.