The first time I went to Ibadan in my whole life was when I ran away from my father’s house. I went to sell pure water under the bridge. Like, I’ve had struggles oh that I can’t even open my mouth to say. It was really hard we just wanted to survive. We ran out of the house because it was terrible. My step mother and I were not in good terms and even up till now.
My late brother said his mother had a cousin in Ibadan and she would give us the life we are longing for when we go there. On getting to Ibadan he said he couldn’t remember his way again because Ibadan had changed.
So, what do we do?
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