So today I decided to write a little about my life. Funny right, considering I tend to keep to myself a lot. At 1:30am, I sat down in my room thinking of what my life was like before, what it is now, and my fate in posterity.
Recently, I found myself reminiscing on my past. I grew up in different cities in Nigeria. My father, a man whom I will forever respect, worked around the clock as a factory worker with the hopes of providing food, clothing and shelter to a family of seven. In an effort to support my father, my mother worked as a public school teacher, but the Nigerian government never failed to delay her salary by several months at a time.
My childhood motivated me to share my experiences with the world. As a result, I am currently working on my autobiography, due to be released in twelve months. My inspiration to write comes from the lessons I learned from my parents. My father was a highly optimistic individual. He never saw what ‘is’ but he constantly reminded his family on what ‘could be’ provided we persevere through the hard times. My beloved mother, a poised, homely woman taught me the importance of Christianity. She would always say, “No matter where you find yourself, never forget to plead the blood.’’
(To be continued)