About Me

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a lawyer, a writer, a philosopher, a believer in life, in love, in all things good and beautiful.

Thursday, 6 August 2015

The Girl Behind the Name


Growing up as a kid, Mum was somewhere far away pursuing her dreams. Dad had to work late hours to cater for the family, so my siblings and I had more than enough time to ourselves after school hours. We could play all day and when it is getting dark we run back home and clean up real nice. We could get into some brawl and made sure there were no scars to tell dad the tales…good fighting skills was needed for that, so my brother watched a lot of kungfu movies, he never really got into much of a fight though, he just loved learning the skills and would happily teach me. He taught me to leave the hair dragging and nail scratching for the little girls, he taught me how to throw a punch and shield one and how to throw kicks ”master leg” he called it. I was never one to avoid a fight, run away from one or from starting one, so those lessons were much cherished. I was always the hot headed one but my siblings would always have my back.

Growing up as a kid, I learnt freedom and independence and with it I learnt how to look after myself, how to be self dependent. The street life always had some kind of appeal to me and explored it I did. I would play football all day with the guys. I would walk with my friends round town as they go hawking for their parents. I would walk with some other friends with their parents to their farm miles away. I would assist them with peeling their harvested cassava, carry it to the grinders and watch their mum “fry” the grinded cassava into garri. When the younger kids get bullied, am that girl they cry to. I would take up their fight like it was mine. A couple of fists and kicks later and the position is stated clearly, “you either learn to treat people nicely or you have your arse gored”. I was never one to be bullied or intimidated.

My friends were there for me too. Too many times their parents took care of me when I come home from school sick. They would buy me drugs and have me eat some food.  Their elder siblings would happily share their novels with me and read I did. The world of story books and novels gave me great delight. With a soul as restless and angry as I was, books gave me an escape, a chance to see the world differently.

It took me quite some time but  I figured out a way to become a better me. I came to realise instead of defending people with the fist, I could defend them with words. Instead of being so angry at the little attention I got from home and the absence of a mother’s love, I could love and pay attention to myself, instead of being so hotheaded, I could be calm and still make a point. I learnt so much on the street, I learnt true friendship, I learnt true strength, I learnt never to look down on anyone no matter how better you believe your life is from theirs. I learnt independence, I learnt focus and most importantly I learnt self love.

what was your experience growing up, please do share in the comment box.

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