#WordsofWednesday · Art · Drama · Life · Poetry · Uncategorized

My Story

My Story

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Follow @adewus4real on  download

You’ll only regret it when I get heartbroken 

 ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING

Story by Harrysong aka. Mr Songz


20131225_132445” I grew up watching that television btw… OGTV and Channels… Sighhhh the struggle!”

Barefooted

Shirtless

Rubbing my belly as I had just consumed a ton of carbs with my rice

And don’t forget my plantain

After church every Sunday

I remember running around the compound

Nails and tetanus marred pierced feet

Scarred from playing soccer without cleats

It was the life

 

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Arriving at my grandpa’s compound in the village was both exciting an nerve wrecking. It meant bangers(knockout), great food and sleeping on a mat”

I remember those long drives to the village

Stuck in the heat and traffic

Pacified with Gala and Fan Yogurt

Strawberry flavored

The Christmas rice was one we savored

I remember playing with the cow before they killed it

Shared to the community members

I felt proud to be from a family like that

 

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“Believe it or not but I grew up in this room. Sometimes even slept on a mat. The coolest thing about this room, every item in that picture is older than I am.”

I remember when I used to attend primary school

With Okin biscuits in my bag

And wafers as a backup

They usually crushed in my bag

Just like my dreams when my crush completely ignored me

Tears

And then it was break time

I forgot it all

Hanging off the monkey bars with no fears at all

 

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“President of Ikenne on Twitter was not by accident. I went to Mayflower for 8 years. Primary and part of Secondary. The things I learned about life here have helped shape me.”

Remember those pointless excursions

To the post office

When I never got any mail

Or to the airport

All the schools went through that same plane

But if you missed that trip

Your life was never the same

We joked about teachers

Picked on each other

Fought for our brothers

Stole boys from our sisters

It was growing up

 

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“Church with my grandparents was like the biggest struggle. Anglican folk, I hail thee…”

Fights over bread at the dining

To miming

At social nights

Wanting to contain my hard on with all my might

While I tried to grind on her like I was sly

But the trouble I entered

Wahali

It wasn’t worth it

I remember “The Walkman”

Or initially saving up money to go to Silverbird

We began to find ourselves

Realizing we had all out lives to mold ourselves

Danfo drivers

Okada riders

Allen Avenue partners

Mothers cheating with vulcanizers

It was all there

And slowly Mr Bigg’s faded

It was barely even there

 

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I remember my first grown foray into the market

Duped into buying Nike’s

Aba made

The logo actually said Puma

Yet I paid double to that “bruha”

Times

From roll ons to dudu osun soaps

Times

Myths

Vigilantes

Faith

Great escapes

From the hands of agberos

No matter the city

They were ever present

But we got street smart

As we navigated through Walter Carrington Crescent

We battled no light

Heat

Price hikes

School strikes

Abacha died

Obasanjo cried

Obahiagbon lit our entire night

But we came through

 

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“Do I have to state how much greatness is in this one picture? Some of it might even be the equivalent of someone’s bride price. Lmaooo I kid o. Or maybe not 👀👀”

Remember Tales by the Moonlight

You watch Super Story

Until you were crossed and your life became an episode

Times

I remember that carefree kid

Singing Trybemen’s

Not a care for the squares

Or the Bizzy Bodies

I miss that guy

I complained about that time

But here am I fairly adjusted

Grown

Taking a moment to slow down

Turning around

To go and fight the boli lady (Boli= roasted plantain. Basically food for the gods.)

She gave me boli but there is no groundnut in my hand

Ojuelegba wole pelu change e (Those going to Ojuelegba, hop into the bus with the denominations because the bus driver might not have change for you)

Remembering my childhood mehn

Mi o le change e! ( I can’t/won’t swap it for anything else!)

 

#WordsofWednesday 

I had written this piece last week as I pondered about my story of who I am and how I became this way. I thought about the different places I’ve lived in, schools I went to. People I met. All of it contributed to who I am today.

It led me to thinking about privilege and the gift we have to “dream”. For many of us, we come from families that even if they didn’t have the resources, they gave us the opportunity to dream and for some, that is more than enough. A lot of kids I work with in the mental health field today are not privileged to dream.

This is piece touched on a little bit of my experiences. Born in America and raised mostly in Nigeria, I was privileged to get the best of both worlds. The street, graft and craft from Nigeria and the confidence to hone and harness it all here in America. It has been interesting to say the least.

I thank my parents and grandparents that raised me for my childhood. They gave me the platform for where I am today. I thank my mom for forcing me to read as a kid; you guys are directly benefitting from that.

Thinking about my story, I thought about how I actually started writing. It was because I liked a girl named A.O in high school. Arts class. Her Twitter handle has “cranberry” in it. I really liked this girl and was willing to do anything for her. I wrote about her extensively and then she curved me. Chai!

It’s okay tho, I dished it right back to her years later as the curve came full circle. But most importantly, you all have her to thank because the feeling I got from that “heartbreak” sparked me to start writing at a young age and here we are. Now she wants me write about her again… Ummmm say it with me!!! What The Heck Man!!! LOL

I never expected to be a writer but 16,000+ views later. I want to thank you all for being so supportive and putting up with my cliffhangers and surprises. I APPRECIATE YOU ALL.

Today, is my Nigeria’s 54th birthday and I feel happy, I fell grateful and I feel fulfilled. LMAOOOO Deadest!

But I want that to motivate us. We are 54 but there is so much work to be done. Yes, many of us have been through struggles growing up but we have become fairly adjusted. It is our job to give back. Write a positive story into a kid in need’s life. Do not be selfish with the great story your parents, friends and country contributed to.

Remember the songs you grew up with, the first cars you rode in, the first time you had Gala or a Christmas where Nepa didn’t take light.

Today, I challenge you to review your story in a more light hearted sense and challenge yourself to write a great story for someone else. It is your #What The Heck Man duty.

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“You ALL know you ate one of these at least once if you grew up in Nigeria. Don’t lie or rat meat will be in your next Gala!”

I want to thank Nigeria for being the amazing place that it is. Even with all its flaws, it is a strong country that is dear to my heart and I hope to one day create a great story for some other children out there.

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, talk to me. Tell me about some of your experiences. Share something you could relate to. And remember to give something back to better the next generation.

Happy 54th birthday Nigeria! I wish you all the best and so much more.

And to all my #WhatTheHeckMan family., I do this for y’all everyday. Thank you for validating me and making me feel grounded and important doing this. YOU ARE ALL AMAZING!

Till the next time you read from me, Blurred 4 on Saturday,

Stay Up!

PLEASE COMMENT.

The End

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for part 4 of Blurred; this Saturday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

23 thoughts on “My Story

  1. I didn’t get the privilege of growing up in Nigeria and that at times saddens me. It always amazes me when I hear my friends who did grow up in Nigeria talk about the struggles of “school seniors” or having to hide “provisions” from evil neighbors. Reading your story and seeing your pictures made me feel like I was there experiencing it all. I only hope and pray that my future children get to experience Nigeria and have stories to share like your own. Thanks for sharing your childhood with us. Oh.. and for the girl who curved you?? Sucks for her, it’s her loss. 😉

    Like

  2. Wow, u had a very fun and funny background, can’t say mine is any better, I’m still ‘growing up’ they don’t really tell me things maybe because they don’t think I’m ‘old enough’ to handle it or maybe it’s because ive secluded myself but I still see it all and it does make for good writing material. Really touched about ur piece, it is the best thing you have written even blurred 4 won’t beat it.

    Like

  3. Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you!!!
    Now I can’t stop thinking bout them good old days… 🙂 🙂 and that room, very similar to our parlour back then. We never had nepa light in our estate until sometime in 1997 and we use to watch tv only at night with charged car battery and our house became community centre ofcourse. Lol
    You made my day… Thanks again

    Like

  4. Beautiful…ur love for plantain tho! Was eating booli while reading and i just laughed. I wish twas me that broke your heart first…how fun would that have been. Happy independence sugar. Nice work!really beautiful

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  5. Wow… What a beautiful, inspirational piece! Thanks for sharing this snippet of your childhood with us. I actually found this pretty fascinating as I didn’t grow up in Nigeria. As a 23 year old who has only been back twice… I’ve never really had the chance to explore and enjoy some of the things you did, but after seeing this it’s definitely something I’d like to experience. This piece oozes with culture and patriotism, both of which highlight why I’m proud to be Nigerian. 💚⚪️💚
    (how I miss all that naija ‘goodness’ on that plate 😋)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Awww , I love this !! Feels like you allowed us to join you on your walk down memory lane . Also great to see / read some of the things that helped you become the person you are today . Shoutout to the girl who curved you , we may not have been blessed with your stories today . Perfect example of everything happens for a reason and the positive in every negative situation . I was born and raised in London and sometimes feel sad that I missed out on the Naija childhood . However I’m thankful for the memories I do have from my visits . From the Boli lady always greeting us with fresh Boli wrapped in newspaper , my grandma rubbing my body with baby powder to stop me itching my mosuquito bites , the lady who sells the fried yam outside my granddads compound , sitting on the steps gisting with the neighbours to pass the time as NEPA had taken light to everyone laughing at my dodgy Yoruba and pidgeon . I love it all and wouldn’t ever change being Nigerian ….o yeah how could I forget the legendary ” sister , what do you have for me ” ? I thank you Primark for saving me money lol

    Liked by 1 person

  7. LOL I wouldn’t have guessed. Your story is interesting quite similar to a lot of peoples story. You went to mayfield, explains your height and beans capacity. I’m happy you see the positive > the negative with your childhood. PUT THAT CURVE IN A CIRCLE.. AYEE lol!!! I’m thankful to Nigeria for the childhood experiences I had; the good, the bad, the ugly and the scar-filled. Stay Sanmi-filled 🙂

    Like

  8. Oh my home oh my home, when shall I see my home, when shall I see my native land, I will never forget my home! Meanwhile that blessed photo that is almost equivalent to someone’s bride pride ….LOL. I love your story and the song choice too

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I can totally relate to the struggle of going to church with my grandparents and of course Anglican. Omg that boli 😋 . Nice and inspirational piece, got me thinking of home and how I grew up.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. (okay i know i saw this every time, but…) this is my favorite thing ever. I’ve reread this propbably 3 times since it was published and i crack a smile every time. I need you to not be so gleeful about curving this A.O., I scared my boss laughing so hard. Please, write about this Miss Cranberry, I’m sure it’ll bring some color to your life at the very least!

    i always envied those that got to go to boarding school at home, even the ones that were sent home as punishment. Me that begged to be sent home (fggc owerri sounded sooooo sweet), I had to settle for summers and christmas breaks. Even now, I’m comparing stories and I’m stil wishing my own was different lol. The way i would give away my clothes and stuff my luggage with cabin biscuit and cowbell…i would sometimes take the newspapers from my grandmother’s house or leaves from the tree behind my bedroom just to have a piece of home to carry with me at all times. I still have my excercise books from the time I spent in SS1 lol.

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  11. Hahaha I can relate with staying with the grandparents(bless their souls) being a child of a single mother. The first seven years of my life was with them because my mother was working all the way in warri (that’s where she could find a good paying job to make ends meet),also my grand parents were baptist church members which is similar to that of the Anglican church,I remember the amount of time I chopped cane,plus the woman who lived down the road that weaved all sorts of hair styles(from didi to patewo etc) with my natural hair and always bent my head on her laps,or is it when I used soft drinks coca cola bottle tops to learn how to count and so on. then there was the time I went away to boarding school all the way in Benin city,Edo state every one thought my mom was crazy in allowing me attend a school all the way from lagos which was 3-5hours away by road depending on traffic and vehicles. But that’s because she wanted the best for me to attend one of the best private schools in Nigeria at that time,and honestly that’s one of the best experiences in my life.
    From meeting and mixing with other people from different tribes in Nigeria to having well known dignitaries visit my school,various interesting excursions and learning about how Nigeria is blessed with various cultures and languages. Also being exposed to ways of the western world but I still love the ways of Nigeria, the culture and most of the ethics has a way of forming people with you still being aware of your roots. There are soo many things to mention mehn
    P.S who remembers eating baba dudu sweets,choco milo nd the likes……

    Like

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