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  • #1430097 Reply
    AvatarAdeboi48
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    Sex tape

    This is a story about the secondary student especially abt a cute new comer boy (mikel) and hw he s*x 4 friends and teachers

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    #1430608 Reply
    Kajairo Mwana Wa AdamKajairo Mwana Wa Adam
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    DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP

    Do not stand at my grave and weep.

    I’m not there, i do not sleep.

    I’m a thousand winds that blow,

    I’m the diamond glints on snow.

    I’m the sunlight on ripen grain.

    I’m the gentle autumn rain.

    When you awaken in the morning’s hush.

    I’m the swift uplift rush of quiet birds in the circled flight.

    I’m the soft stars that shine at night.

    Do not stand at my grave and cry;

    i’m not there, i did not die..

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    #1431035 Reply
    Adaidu Oma DayvidAdaidu Oma Dayvid
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    Shy lover

    Everyone on earth has a feeling to express but only those with boldness are able to express those feelings which lies in heart.

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    #1433751 Reply
    Kajairo Mwana Wa AdamKajairo Mwana Wa Adam
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    So its that easy..!!!?

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    #1433423 Reply
    AvatarGodslove
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    THE MESSY JOURNEY by EVANG. ADEKUNLE ISAAC GODSLOVE

    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE ONE
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    THE JOURNEY BEGAN!!!
    Back and forth, life rolled by; life happened and life kept on happening. The flashes of my past kept overwhelming me each passing day. The story of this little boy, IFEOLUWA cannot be over emphasized. I am IFEOLUWA, I am a product of a journey that began on the 26th of December early 90’s, into the family of Reverend &Lady Evangelist Olufemi. I was born in a very small village in Osun state Nigeria. The 6th child of 7 children of my mother. 5 girls and two boys. 7th from my father’s side. You said how?? That’s a story for another day. My dad was a full time furniture business man based in Lalupon, Oyo State Nigeria. Leaving Ibadan,we relocated to a place called yenuzuegene in bayelsa state and later moved to okutukutu in same bayelsa state in 1998. I was barely five years old when we relocated, as a child, I didn’t see it as a burden. There in bayelsa, my dad continued his furniture business,along side working for the then Bayelsa state government house as a contractor, and still ventured into the cab driving business as fun and side hustle. My mum was never a full time housewife, she blossomed in her business as a trader of commodities. The journey kept on slow and steady. Along the line, my dad answered the call of God into ministry, even though it wasn’t that easy and it was a very hard decision for him to make then. But after several lashes and punishment from God, He answered. Listen, the call of God cannot be hidden, likewise light, infact, it’s traces begins from childhood, it only takes an observant fellow to know the mind of God. . I can vividly recall one funny but outstanding reoccurrence that kept playing out. When I was barely six years, my parents said I was always conscious of my looks, especially on Sundays when I will wear a dress that has a pony tie at the collar, after dressing up, I will say ( I don turn to pastor) ,”i have become a pastor” . I kept on saying that consciously or unconsciously even when I’m playing with my age mates then. Just like a prophesy unknown to me, it became flesh. As a little boy, I felt there was more to those words, but I couldn’t place it, my parents kept watching, my words most times, aligned with the calling.

    Then, my dad already started his ministry and was busy tending the followers, while my mum, a then business woman barely had time to be at home because, she wanted to make ends meet and provide for the family; assisting dad. My steps on earth became known by me when I clocked five. Family remains everything despite the hurdles we all had to cross to get to where we all are today. I can recall my childhood days when i did a lot of crazy things ignorantly, I never knew life started counting them all, even till this day. One of the days I weep about was the day I was physically initiated into the world of immorality at a very tender age. The painful part of it was that we were termed “CHILDREN OF PASTOR ” By same people that engaged us in such immoralities. Infact, to me, my childhood was fun and unforgettable then. Who can turn back the hand of time? I wished I could, I wished I can rewrite my past, “smiles”, but the deed has been done. I rolled comfortably in sin, not knowing what I was doing. My innocent mind stood clean. In that process of over look, we mingled with children in bayelsa state. Of a truth, bad company corrupts good manner. Like a twilight, our good manners faded gradually, we were negatively influenced by the environment and the class of people we mingled with. We got involved in immoral acts that tainted our purity, the virus entangled with improper childhood upbringing due to a polluted environmental saga in behavioural sequence was grinding us without our knowledge. That background alone, destroyed a lot that I still hope to fight till the end. Even as we were termed pastor’s children, we still indulged in sexual immorality with girls and boys bigger than us. I was so sure they knew what they made us do was bad, but we thought we were enjoying the erotic way it made us feel. We wallowed deeper everyday. Yet, all these went unnoticed by our parents. Infact, we were saints before their eyes, because they were busy with their own work while we struggled spiritually.

    Bayelsa is a riverine state, with most of its land covered with water. I became a very good swimmer, who would grow up in bayelsa and not become a good swimmer? I spend hours in water and felt good about it. I got the beating of my lifetime in one day when my parents heard of my swimming escapades, stubborn me, I still didn’t listen. I also learnt how to paddle canoe. Hmmmmm! One faithful day, I almost lost my life in a very big river where I paddled a woman’s canoe alone and was rescued by those coming back from farm with their own canoe. I didn’t know what gave me the boost to do that, but I did it, far gone from land, to the middle of the river. I was scared, but I kept on paddling and was so enthusiastic about it, I even telling them ” I sabi paddle”. I saw it as an adventure. One of the days, I almost lost my life again. My brother and I were sent an errand by 7pm in the evening to buy something, we weren’t aware that there was an accident that happened in the day time at the bridge, which broke one part of the bridge, so a car was coming in front of us on that remaining narrow part of the bridge, we didn’t know what to do, as we avoided the car from touching us, the car hit me off the bridge, I thought I was going to fall into the middle of the big river and that would have been the end of me if I had made attempt to save myself, but God came through for me and hung me on a tiny iron by the bridge, so I was apparently hanging in the air with my cloth stuck to that tiny iron, my saving grace. At that point, I didn’t know what kept me strong there, but I was there, waiting for a miracle to happen, meanwhile, my brother already ran home to call my dad . That was how God sustained me till I was rescued.

    Life kept happening till we relocated to osun state due to a fight that broke out in Bayelsa state which was between the Egbesu and the Yoruba, which was the ijaw militant then. The fight was brutal, if we had stayed back, my family would have been wiped off, so we relocated back to my hometown in Ise – Ijesa, osun state. It was as though we were brought out from a boiling water and thrown into the fire itself, The village I never been to for a long time. The aura that welcomed us was not a good sight to behold, the whole place stinks and I wondered what we were doing in such a place, I had no choice, this was my hometown. In bayelsa, I was in primary two, but coming back home, I was demoted and taken back to primary one in St. Andrew Anglican Primary School, Ise – Ijesa. At the end of the three terms, I was always coming 10th position in class, this didn’t go down well with my mum, I received numerous tokens of her strife, the beating and flogging was too much, infact, I wondered if it was by force to come first in class. In my mum’s dictionary, YES! it is a must to come first. In my new class in primary two, My mum became my teacher, she always taught me how to read and write,so a friend of mine joined the lesson class of my mum, she was always ready to beat and hit me if I didn’t get any question correct. The term rolled by, Sunday came first while I came sixth in class. Oh! God, you don’t want to hear what my mum did to me that day. She beat the hell out of me because I was the one that do teach Sunday, my mum said I should never in my life teach him again, so I agreed. Then, the second term, I came first . From that primary two second term till I left secondary school, I retained my first position. it was really a hell learning process, but it was worth it, all thanks to my mum for that hard process.

    My life kept dripping the acts of godliness in some ways, but I never noticed, I still remember my friends in school and how we formed a praying group in primary school, we were really doing well, but guess what! FOOD separated us. What a way to be deceived! We all agreed that during our break time, we will share our food together, but some of them were being smart ,and when I noticed, I joined the train, then the prayer group vanished like it never existed. We strived, right? But what do we have to show for it? I was like that then. As a growing child, I strived to be the best in all I do.

    I held post as class captain till my primary four, in primary five, I was made the time keeper and in primary six, I was made the overall senior prefect. As a very bright child, I was picked among two others to represent my school in debate and mathematics competition in local government level and state level. We made our school proud as we came first. I was practically loved by both the teachers and students, everybody wanted to associate with me because I was brilliant and also versatile in sports aside academics.

    Note: THE BRIGHTER THE LIGHT, THE THICKER THE DARKNESS.
    What now happened???

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    #1433574 Reply
    Øhlüwûåh Øñê GådØhlüwûåh Øñê Gåd
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    my good bad life

    My good bad life is a story that shows how I met an American an who tbought me how to hack and I went extra miles using it for f-----g girls

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    #1433424 Reply
    AvatarGodslove
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    THE MESSY JOURNEY

    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE THREE & FOUR
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    JOURNEY TO THE WITCHCRAFT WORLD
    Funny enough, I was never a good reader. I only read on compulsion, that is whenever my mum forces me to read; It was never in my habit to carry my books to read without being forced to. All I knew was that, once I get to open my books two days to exam, I write well and score higher than those that have been reading for months before the exam. That’s part of my gift from God.

    When I got into secondary school, I became conscious of my looks; neatness was something I looked out for. I still stood out as a brilliant student, well known for my neatness, brains and versatility. This earned me to be nominated for the post of the class captain amongst three others. At this time, the students were asked to choose who will be their class captain and we were given a test, I came first in the test and was made the class captain as expected of my classmates. This took tolls in J. S. S. Two and J. S. S three respectively.

    Still in J. S. S one, I began noticing how far my life went with regards to girls in the school. It was as though they said all the girls should crush on me. Girls were always over me, I never knew it was a trap from the pit of hell. I didn’t see it as anything because I felt I was intelligent, neat and punctual, even teachers loved me, so I felt its normal. My dad was the P. T. A chairman then, so I was popular in school, alongside the best student in my class. My J. S. S one and J. S. S two took it’s turns of popularity and carefree life of an innocent boy.

    In my J. S. S three, I began noticing a difference in me. My life started dwindling. The glory, potentials, and gifts in me were flowing towards the river that would take them far away from me. Girls did not let me be. The temptation came heavy on me, I let in pride and felt like a king with girls flocking around me. *then, I had my first sexual immorality (fornication) in J. S. S three* in the school premises. Guess who I had it with; Joke, my first girlfriend in primary school,. We remained classmates in secondary school.

    After that experience, I knew something big left me that day, but little did I know that Joke was not a normal human being as I had always thought. Aaaaaaaah! Sin can take you farther than you will ever want to go, it has a driving force, a slippery lane. My spark grew Dall daily, I couldn’t tell anyone what I was passing through. What was I even going to tell them? I wasn’t brilliant like the Ifeoluwa I have always known in my primary school. Although, I was still the best in class and the class captain. I cared less because my position was not stripped off me. While in same J. S. S three, I wrote a love letter to the senior girl of my school, and she agreed to my advances. Meanwhile, I was still dating Joke and Silvia.

    When I got to S.S.one, I left both of them because Silvia relocated to another state with her parents, while through prayers and counselling of my parents, I left Joke, but it didn’t end there. I fell into another trap with another girl. Her name is Tolani. She was in J. S. S two while I was in S. S two then. The first day I saw her, I felt I would loose my mind because, she was a beauty to behold. All these while, I thought Joke and Silvia were beautiful, but when I saw the real beauty, I fell for it head long without a second thought. I asked her out and she accepted. That was the beginning of another phase in my life. The devil started dealing with me because I already broke the hedge with Joke. It was obvious to me, I don’t know about others. My dear first position shifted from my grip, for the first time in a long time, I came second.

    I was so mad at myself, I almost tore my result. I couldn’t believe I lost my chains of glory to a disastrous less than five minutes pleasure and I already started getting the pay, it showed in my result. My parents were so angry at me, my dad reported me to all the teachers and the principal, I was highly disgraced at the assembly ground, flogged mercilessly in the presence of other students. The most annoying and degrading part was that, all the girls that crushed on me, including Tolani I was dating were all present. I didn’t know how to avert such disgrace. I only tried not to cry, but I wailed.

    I still didn’t learn from my mistakes because, the devil already had a hold on me. I left Tolani and started dating Anuoluwa; from frying pan to fire. Everyone knew Anu was possessed, she was an ogbanje, I also knew. One of the break time in school, I bought food at the school canteen, so Anu came around and asked me to buy her food which I refused, so without my permission, she took my meat. In the process of taking back my meat, she bit my hand. A playful bite turned out to be ringworm. My right palm was almost decaying because of a bite, was it just a bite? Hmmmmm. For good seven years, I nursed this ringworm in my palm, it was so irritating that nobody saw my hand and collected anything from me. It was that bad. *FROM A PLAYFUL BITE* so I thought.

    In my S. S.one, I was given a post as the school’s time keeper aside my class captain. In S. S two, I was made the chapel prefect. I conducted the morning assembly; preached, sang and led in prayers. *GOD WAS STILL INTERESTED IN THIS LITTLE IFEOLUWA.* Then in my S. S three, I was made the *HEAD BOY* of the school. The journey of a mess continued till I left secondary school.

    ‘SIDE NOTE’:
    Little did I know Joke, my first girlfriend was into witchcraft, an ardent loyal agent to the dark world. I was a prey and she caught me well. That one sex with her, turned it around for me.

    “One thing about sin is for you not to taste it, else it’ll take you farther than you plan to go and deeper than you can ever imagine”

    Note: Sin is a drainer, especially sin of fornication; it’ll drain you of every potentials and treasure deposited in you by God

    Tbc
    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE TWO
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    The seed sown at my tender age grew and affected me negatively. My thoughts rang towards negative directions as regard affairs between male and female. Of a truth, I never had sex with anyone during our stay at okutukutu in Bayelsa state, but the fondlings, kissing and romance they had me do, registered in my mind for as long as God knows when. A leach that never wanted to let go of me. That experience at Bayelsa became part of me. The influence on me personally stood glaringly as a stigma. My mind became open to liking girls and that was the spark of it that fanned the amber. Little did I know that what I was doing was unconsciously laying a seed of just in me.

    In my primary three, I became conscious of a girl’s beauty, her complexion and her body structure. I came to like a girl named Joke and she liked me too….. Funny though….. Infact we were really into each other. We went to school together, went home together, played together, ate together during break time and we were always seen together. To crown it all, Joke was a damsel to behold; so beautiful that my friends then, envied our closeness. I could practically go all out for her, defend her and make sure she wasn’t hurt by me or anyone else. We rolled on till another very beautiful girl joined the school in primary five, her name is Silvia,while joke and I were in primary six. She is very beautiful and more lively than Joke. I started “dating” Silvia alongside Joke. Although, I had eyes on one person more and that was Silvia. She is some years older than I am and an elder sister to my friend, Bayo. I still liked Joke, but I liked Silvia more. Confused, right?
    At a point, I sidelined Joke and was really into Silvia than I was with Joke. Along the line, they both became friends, so I started dating two friends unknown to them. This was in primary six. During that period, I was termed as oko Silvia (silvia’s husband), both at school, on the street and in my neighbourhood.

    My parents didn’t really ask any questions, neither were they interested to know why people called me oko Silvia all of a sudden. They felt it was because we attended same school and were in same class as well. I laughed alongside my parents and saboteurs that didn’t just mind their business. Whenever Silvia is seen, people hail her iyawo ifeoluwa (ifeoluwa’s wife). Of a truth, they all knew what they were saying. My parents didn’t know something of that nature was truly going on, them, their little boy was innocent of such. As a matter of fact, they laughed when I’m being called oko Silvia. I apparently forgot Joke and moved on with Silvia.
    After my primary school, I went to secondary school. My mum became so strict with our school works as though she got a report about us; my siblings and I. Her strictness also streamed to counting our books to know if it is complete. If a sixty leaves note is counting fifty-eight sheet, you are in for trouble, in fact, no amount of urinating on your body can make her change her mind. A lot of us can relate. My books were always looking tattered and incomplete. One day my mum got me a note book I have been asking for, on my return from school, she asked for the book and when she finished counting, it was missing one sheet, that was another die there matter. She so dealt with me, not minding I just returned from school and very hungry. I just couldn’t place the event that made my mum come all out and strict on my siblings and I ; me in particular, because I was very stubborn. In all she meant well, she was that strict because, she wanted us to be the best. We were very attentive in class, following and making sure we don’t score anything less than what is expected. If I am given a class work of ten and I score nine over ten, I am in a hot pot of soup, she will practically beat the hell of dullness out of you and at the same time, tell you that you must know book because she didn’t give birth to an olodo. All in the bid for us to turn out best and we didn’t disappoint her expectations.
    On my part, I played a lot of pranks to upgrade my scores as per class works. If I dare score two over ten, I will steal my teacher’s red pen and change it to eight so that the beating will be lesser.

    As a little child, I never knew my senses cannot be compared to that of an adult, if I can change the score, can I change the markings,? She still caught me and beats me like she was fighting her mate. The hard-knocks kept me on my toes, I was very brilliant and my first position remained with me. During end of term parties, results of students from third position to first position will be called and when it gets to my class, parents always predicted that well. They will echo my name even before the announcer does so. That was how popular I was in school and how brilliant I was as well.
    I never knew SATAN CAN’T USE WHAT YOU DON’T LIKE TO ENTRAPPED YOU.

    NOTE: Within the circle of lies, there’s a truth.
    Parents, please be sensitive when it comes to your children. Most of the things they and their friends joke with are real.

    What happened to IFEOLUWA????
    Find out in the next episode

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    #1433427 Reply
    AvatarGodslove
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    THE MESSY JOURNEY

    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE FOUR – SIX
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    The main reason I was able to leave Joke, aside my parents counsellings and prayers was because of the exposure of her witchcraft practice. Then, I was in s.s two and I had a little sister after me, her name is Boluwatife.

    One fateful day, my sister went to plait her hair, so it happened to be that it was our King’s daughter that made the hair. Young girls do go to her to make their hair because of her friendliness. Little girls loved her. Little did they know that, the friendliness was her own strategy to attract more people into their dark world. I thank God my sister was not a glutton, coupled with the trainings we receive at home. Infact, it was God that disengaged the plans of the wicked.

    Later that day, when my sister Bolu came back home, we were all in the kitchen assisting my mum, and in no time, the food was ready. My sister called me out and told me someone gave her witch to eat and by eating it, she will be initiated. I was puzzled at what she uttered, so I asked for further clarification, she said the King’s daughter gave her walnut to eat so that she can be given a black bird and told her not to tell anyone, if not her neck will pain her till she dies. This was so scary, but as God may have it, she brought the walnut home not minding the threat of the King’s daughter. At that point, I was shivering, that was an unusual speech, different from the ones I have always heard. I was scared to my bones, I ran to my mum and told her what Bolu said, and she informed my dad immediately.

    That evening, we all rushed down to the lady’s house. My dad, as a minister of the gospel; an evangelist, confronted her prayerfully. She didn’t deny it, she confessed that they were many involved in the witchcraft. She said my sister was meant to be the last one, she even mentioned their driver in the witchcraft world who happened to be my friend then. *The boy that came first when we were in primary two and I came sixth after teaching him and my mum dealt with me and said never in my life should I teach him anything again.* as she kept talking I was shivering. The car they felt was comfortable for them to use for their night journeys was my dad’s car that broke down long ago without tyres, laying starked there. She said once the boy enters it and they all enter too, they can drive anywhere in the world with it.

    Everybody listened with apt interest and awed at the same time. As she listed their names, Joke’s name was not left out, infact, the revealing part that shocked me was that Joke was the next in command after their leader. I felt chills run through my spine, rubles of sweat on a very chilled evening was very abnormal, but I was obviously sweating. Guilt and fear gripped my whole body. Unknown to anyone, I already had sex with Joke in j.s.s three, my parents were unaware. I cried my eyes red hot. I regretted having anything to do with her. I called on God at that instance because, I was already entrapped. My dad conducted deliverance for the twelve of them; twelve young girls and boys.

    That was how I knew about Joke and forgot about her. I really wished it never happened between us, but who can turn back the hands of time? I thought I had escaped, but that one time sex gave way for people that were like her to have access into my life. I had to nurse a dangerous ringworm for seven years from just a bite from Anuoluwapo at the food canteen. And it continued, despite every effort to pull out, I kept sinking deeper. I was so shy to tell anyone because I was scared of how my parents will react. The fear of that alone made me bottle up my pain, guilt, fears and worries. Then, one day………..
    Tbc……..

    Note: The only cure for sin is to confess it immediately. Because in an attempt to cover up a sin, another sin is multiplied.

    Are we reading at all????? Or I should stop posting it🤷🏻‍♂️
    EPISODE 5&6

    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE FIVE
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    After the flog and public disgrace by my principal, the next day, she called me to her office and admonished me like a mother would do. She is a very strict, disciplined and loving woman, a deeper life member; a strong one at that. The heavy but few words she spoke that day still remained evergreen in my heart. She said ” Ifelouwa, just a minute pleasure can cause you the rest of your life and put you into everlasting bondage”.

    That statement shocked me that day, she was the first person aside my parents that preached to me. I made up my mind never to engage in anything involving girls. I kept rolling in my new found celibacy without knowing what I was doing, I broke up with all the girls. One month gone, I never spoke to any girl, two months gone, I never spoke to any girl still, third month came and strolled by, still alone in my new world of contentment. I was so happy I was regaining my sanity. Just then, I grabbed what I left again. One beautiful morning, I prepared for school and expected the best from my team at school during our sports display. I saw this beautiful girl. I lost concentration and kept tracing her every move with my eyes.

    My team won in the football match and the 100 metre relay race. It boosted my morale to approach her which I did. I never knew I had a rival. We were two of us that went after her. Rukky is so beautiful ; but nothing upstairs, what I call “BIMBO”. She was the first girl that got me distracted, even from my academics. That was the Genesis of my second position with so many red pen. My dad was aware of the relationship, coupled with my result. This triggered a lot of sentiment which resulted to the disgrace at the assembly ground.

    My mum gave me the beating of a lifetime in one day, I still can’t forget that day. I didn’t go home immediately, I hung around till evening and sneaked into the house, but luck was not on my side that day, my mum descended on me like a mighty wall of Jericho. Who would I have told? What would I have said? Because of a girl that wasn’t even close to average in academics, I lost concentration, I lost my first position. It still didn’t change the way people saw me. The love and likeness was still there, enjoined with my loyal behaviour. I was always available to assist the teachers, especially the corpers that were posted to my school then. They all loved me regardless. They visited my parents and became close acquaintance with my family.

    I innocently gifted them with farm produce whenever it’s available. I never knew I was opening way for myself then. I was always first on their mind when it comes to debates and other competitions, within and outside the school. I never disappointed their expectations as well. Despite all I did, I was still very brilliant. I received many awards from NATIONAL UNION OF TEACHERS in my local government, from the corpers and the school itself for coming first in one competition or another. I always made them proud. This made me really famous in school and in my hometown. I drastically reduced my bits on my anchors with girls and focused more on my upcoming West African Examination Council.

    The tutors and preparation got me standing all night with my book on my hands and my legs in water. I had a separate room from my siblings, I didn’t know why it was that way, but I enjoyed a bit of privacy, especially during my exam periods. My grandmother always had my back in most things. There were times I offended my mum and was denied my dinner, grandma was my saving grace those nights….. Hahahahaha, she will sneak me into her room and bring a plate full of locally made jollof rice filled with tiny fishes from under her ancient bed and ask me to finish it all……..

    Oh! God, you needed to see me devour this palatable delicacy, sweating and sniffing in my runny nose, all because of the saving meal of grandma. I settled the meal with a very cool water from her water pot. The next morning, I will act all tired, pretending to be really to avoid doing anything. Despite how I acted, my mum knew when it was real and when it wasn’t real. Some mornings she will make me feel all peppered with errands on a supposed empty stomach. I will find all way possible to transfer aggression on my little sister who will innocently avoid me, but I always had my way with Bolu, making her cry so hard by either knocking her head, twisting her ear or kicking her legs. I wouldn’t mind more threats from my mum, what mattered was that I got my revenge on my innocent sister. Life kept on happening the way it came. I could vividly recall………

    THE MESSY JOURNEY EPISODE SIX
    A TRUE LIFE STORY
    In my family, we are just a regular Nigerian family, from a Yoruba clan. There were some responsibilities entitled to everyone which I couldn’t run from. I had no options than to adhere and do as I was told. Among my mother’s children, I am the sixth child on count of seven children. Among my father’s children, I am the seventh child on count of eight children.
    No doubt my mum was a disciplinarian, and despite how strict my mum was with regards to our academics, we still assisted her in her business by Hawking commodities around the community.

    While in primary school, I always followed my siblings to hawk. It’s either we were Hawking pepper, moi-moi, crayfish, onions, vegetables, okra, fish, plantain, groundnut, kpomo, yam,…. Just name it. We were well known in the community and other neighbouring villages, all in a bid to make ends meet for mum. There was practically nothing I did not hawk on my head. When I got to secondary school, my steps extended to the neighbouring villages and the distance could cover 60km, wandering to and fro for buyers. With my tiring legs from a long walk, coupled with a good or bad sales outcome, depending on how the day turns out to be, I toogled home happy or sad or either grumbling.

    The worst part of it was that, my mum never wanted to hear a NO for an answer, she expected that we never came home with the goods, rather with the money. But when it turns out the other way round, it doesn’t go down well. In fact, any mistake we make for the rest of the day will be used against us in the court of mum’s own law. We had time to hawk moi-moi in the morning from 6: 00am to 7: 30am before going to school. We would have had our bath and worn our uniforms before going for the compulsory morning Hawking. It was a norm, no objection about this. Most of the times, I went late to school, and I get flogged and beaten for coming late. All these happened on a regular basis, but it never changed how brilliant I was and still am.

    That responsibility sticked, it shaped my daily activities. After school hours was another section of Hawking, the treks to hawk fish and the remains of the morning moi-moi was way too much for my soft legs, but with time, it got me so tired, coupled with certain talk downs from customers that seem to feel they are better than others. Let me share one reoccurring event then.
    Some of the days i go Hawking, a customer will have me follow them to their homes as far as a forty minutes sluggish walk, greeting all and sundry on their way home, and end up saying the fish was small or the price wasn’t okay for the size of the fish, so they won’t buy.
    With so much pain, hate and teary eyes, I will ask for help to lift my tray, then I walk away slowly, disappointed and feeling angry at the same time, expecting a change of mind from the customer, while I look back and forth… I lost that money. I had to hustle more before going back home.

    There were other scenarios that played out. Almost everyday, when I go out to hawk before or after school, children of my age make fun of me. They sing and call me omo Eleja- fish seller ; omo elepa- groundnut seller ; omo oloole- moi – moi seller, depending on what I hawked that day. This always got me angry. In that angered frame of mind, I will drop my tray of fresh smoked fishes to fight, but after the fight, half of my fish will be gone.

    In my world of regret, fear and anger, I will cook up lies to tell my mum, which she never believed. I still got punished for the missing fish. It could be that I won’t get to eat any fish in my soup for a whole week. You know that pain of seeing heads of fishes in my siblings’ soup and I got nothing. My life and that of my siblings revolved around a limited and already programmed lifestyle for how long only God knows. There was no time to grow spiritually, we more like Sunday capsules, the only day we rested. No intimate time with our parents who were near but seem far

    Note: No matter how busy you are, never be too busy for your children. A child you don’t create time for will create time for something else.
    TBC

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