Childhood sucks big time. From one problem to another. The stubborn child I was opened waves of injuries. There was a day I played hide and seek. I wanted to hide in a place really smart for others not to see. Lo and behold, I fell down and injured my face. Be it as it may, the injury caused inflammation. So painful to react to, right? 👍
Now, here is the tricky part — I was beaten by my parents.
Scene 2 that I remember was abusing somebody, and the next response was a big blow on my face. I got a nosebleed.
Ha ha ha!
It was really bad that my mum asked who it was...
“It was that boy,” I said.
“Which boy? Take me there.”
I went to meet the boy. He stood underneath a tree, still playing without remorse.
Soon, my mum told him, “Why were you so cruel that you gave this boy a blow?”
He answered, “Oun lo kọkọ wa bami,” which means, “He was the one who came to me first.”
“Igbà tó bù mí, mo fun ẹsẹ. Ara mi rùn,” he said.
Ha! My mum actually talked to him, but he refused to apologize.
Moving on, I remember the day I fainted. My dad carried me upon his shoulders. He was like...
Yes, it was a fateful morning. My mum woke me up for school. I didn’t. I only remember seeing a large amount of water on my face.
Next, it was my dad carrying me to the hospital. Painful, right?
Was it because of the room structure? I almost slept and didn’t wake up.
At the hospital, my dad screamed before the doctors heard his cry for help.
Soon, the doctor heard his cry and answered him. Hmmm! I waited for months in the hospital.
Next was part two: I was involved in a fracture — epiphyseal fracture — which almost took the hell out of me. This traumatic scenery affected me more than before.
Next is my academics. As a child, I was always getting low exam scores because I was stubborn. I didn’t really read. I was only interested in games.
Ha ha ha!
Not until I got a “reset slap” from my aunt. It was painful, but I ended up leaving a private school for a public school.
But right from day one in public school, I took my studies seriously. I went to tutorials. I read my ass out. Soon, I graduated very well.
I had 314 in my JAMB exam — a very good score. JAMB was not easy, but it was great.
University life was hard.
On my matriculation day, I wore this cloth 😂😂😂.
Funny right.
Moving on...
Electricity made me read in school outside, where mosquitoes bit your blood. We called them OSUTH vampires.
Now, was I a bookworm or a book reader? I perceived myself as a walking dead.
Flashback 😂 — my friends saw it; I didn’t give a damn. I just wanted to read my ass off 😂.
Like, just imagine — a video of me reading in the night was taken. I was reading like it was more than just a common exam.
This is olamide reading under the street lamps.
I can’t forget Olamide. He was always like, “Guy, try dey rest.”
Many people thought I was no longer normal. I read for three days straight with little to no sleep.
This first image from this screenshot was my wallpaper and my motivator.
I remember those days when I didn’t even take a good night wrapper or cloth. Everything was like a disaster.
Every single mosquito bite meant a lot. I read myself almost to death.
Now here comes the hardest part — I was an exco in church and a project leader, and I needed to read for exams.
Additionally, I ran tutorials to survive. Every tutorial missed meant no food that day. It was the hardest life.
I couldn’t survive — I could only watch as I became uneasy. I started to lose myself.
400L was the worst. I smelt death. My legs hurt, but I took upon myself the duty of a leader — choosing not to eat rather than fail God or fail academically.
You know how church excos are... Some will even say, “You read more than you take God seriously.”
Soon, I left my tutorial job. I knew that teaching meant food, but I just had to balance it all. Eventually, I paid for it.
I became a living vibrator. Every single moment around people felt like hell. Walking from home to school was hard, but I persisted.
I told myself, “I don’t care about me anymore.”
Supervisor calls. Project colleagues cry.
Every time I told them how uneasy it was for me, others would say, “It’s the same for us.”
In fact, every single day from 6–7, I tried my best to be in school by 7–8.
At some point, I collapsed. I knew something was wrong. My project colleagues began to notice abnormalities in the way I spoke.
People around me would say, “Joseph, your sleep is abnormal. If you die, no one will know.”
They kept peeping at my window.
Faruk and Olamide — those guys really watched over me. I miss them.
Olamide once said, “You’re in the manic state of schizophrenia.”
My dressing no longer mattered to me.
I didn’t even have the strength to cook anymore. Sometimes, I would go to my parents’ house for rest and freshness. But even then, when I returned...
Omo! Life was hard.
I knew I had to fight. Soon, what I was reading stopped entering.
Elijah assisted somehow.
Olamide could survive 2–3 days without food.
I knew I hadn’t been eating well — it affected me and my project.
Soon, food came, and I no longer cared. I ate so well. My lecturer gave me food, and later, my parents too.
Psychologically, my brain wasn’t okay.
No one except me knew.
No headaches — just shaking hands and legs.
I had constant angina... chest pain.
Still... every homo sapiens said that I wasn’t doing enough. 😂
I almost lost my reason to live. I felt drained and pained.
The task ahead was great, but I managed — not by my strength — to finish well.
I thank God.
The Nigerian education system lacks electricity supply, and this is affecting her productivity.
Electricity is life.
Thanks for visiting.
