You’ll only regret it when I get heartbroken
⟹ ⟹ ⟹ PLAY THE SONG BEFORE YOU START READING
Story by Harrysong aka. Mr Songz
” I grew up watching that television btw… OGTV and Channels… Sighhhh the struggle!”
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
“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
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
“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
And then it was break time
I forgot it all
Hanging off the monkey bars with no fears at all
“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
“Church with my grandparents was like the biggest struggle. Anglican folk, I hail thee…”
Fights over bread at the dining
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
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
Allen Avenue partners
Mothers cheating with vulcanizers
It was all there
And slowly Mr Bigg’s faded
It was barely even there
I remember my first grown foray into the market
Duped into buying Nike’s
The logo actually said Puma
Yet I paid double to that “bruha”
From roll ons to dudu osun soaps
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
Obahiagbon lit our entire night
But we came through
“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
I remember that carefree kid
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
Taking a moment to slow down
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!)
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.
“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,
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”
Nice!! Bet did you actually grow up in that room? I heard Mayflower teachers are very wicked (strict) tho
Lol yup. When I stayed with my grandparents for some years, yes I did….
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. 😉
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.
Lmaoooo you are in for a surprise then!!!
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
Thank you for your continued support and presence here. You’re highly appreciated.
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
Where was my own Boli?! Selfishness is not good o!
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 😋)
Lol i would say go back this year again but Ebola is a respecter of no one! lol
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
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 🙂
Lol your head dey there! Sanmi-filled!!!!!!
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
Lol thanks for that song btw. Now I can’t stop thinking about it! lol
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.
You are mad appreciated! You know this tho. When are we going to Naija?
(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.
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……
Great man, am also an exmay
Great man, am also an exmay. I rep 22837. May ur road be rough