Right now, not in the best frame of mind to write the full story, yes, my personal true-life story concerning my past struggles in England before this present ‘breakthrough’. (Eyes don see plenty shit before this new level!).
Where can I start my story today? Can I dig into when I was “technically” homeless in London as a bachelor and a fellow Nigerian citizen(also a bachelor, College student) suggested I should fraternise with Oyinbo drug addicts taking refuge under Elephant and Castle underground pathway in order to get a temporary accommodation under the bridge?
This guy(always claiming to be a Pastor!) even promised to buy me a blanket and winter jacket. I did not collect them from him. I endured hardship. Another long story for another day.
Must I re-open another healed wound of a ‘friend’ who suggested I could sell my Nigerian passport with valid British visa with a token £500? I was so broke then and £500 was a ‘big’ money in my eyes! I resisted this satanic temptation. Awusu bilahi….
Maybe I need to explain how I followed one ‘Sisi Mama’ to her flat in Woolwich area of South London. She lived alone in a 2-bedroom flat. I met her somewhere along Camberwell road in South London. I told her my accommodation problem, and like magic, she asked me to follow her to sleep in her flat.
Unfortunately, I only stayed for two nights with her. She treated me very well. I won’t go into details. End of story.
About five years later, I saw this same ‘Sisi Mama’, in a public transport, suffering from a partial stroke and depression.
What of the people(living in the UK since 1960s) who knew my parents from Abeokuta but still failed to accommodate me in London? They cooked up silly stories to discourage me to return to Nigeria. I did not listen to their gibberish sermons.
Once I am strongly determined to pull down barriers, impossible to change my mind except if I die.
I won’t go into details of how a friend (Yoruba man!) I ignorantly trusted so much snatched my first Oyinbo girlfriend in England as he cooked up unpardonable lies against me, slept with her behind my back and when the lady got pregnant, he wrongly assumed that was his baby. This guy’s family members celebrated in Lagos. To cut the long story short, DNA paternity test exposed the secret, the baby belonged to another African guy. He lost in all ways! That’s law of karma at its wicked best.
Despite all these challenges in a foreign country, I did not engage in criminal activities to make “quick” money and appear as a ‘Big Man’ in Nigeria. That’s the bitter truth.
This life is a complex web of mysteries and nobody knows tomorrow of anybody. I struggled against all odds to get to this level in life. No shame to tell anybody.
No easy road to any breakthrough in life, I must surely write the full story this year, just to inspire my Facebook friends. Let me stop the long story here. Ko ju be lo.
To be continued…..
