Growing up was tough for me, especially since I was a church boy. My mum used to sell cassettes and I was always close to her, which meant I spent a lot of time in church. My friends in the church at that time were from wealthy families, and I couldn’t afford the things they could. This made me feel bad for myself and for my mum, who worked hard selling buns, kunu, fried yam, fried Akara, tie and dye, and washing clothes for people to make ends meet.
I remember having my first crush on a girl named “Abigail”. I became friends with her brother, and he invited me to their house. When I visited their house, I saw my mum washing clothes there, and it made me feel ashamed of our situation. I had to tell the guy I was leaving. These experiences made me realize that I needed to work harder.
It was difficult to tell my classmates where I was staying, I would point somewhere else and wait for them to go before running off to my own place. Growing up in Kaduna, where there were a lot of politicians’ kids, I felt like I had nothing. At some point, I had to resort to stealing uniforms because I knew I couldn’t afford new ones for the next term. I would take somebody’s uniform and reinvent it into my new uniform. I also used to do people’s homework to get money to buy food for school.
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