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a lady tells me her story

A lady tells me her story

A lady tells me her story插图

A lady recently reached out to me with her personal story.

Read her:

“My mind still races back to how I got to this point in my life. I think that day, which began like every other day in our house, became the turning point in my life. That was the day I left home for good, though it wasn’t planned.

My mum had gone to the market to sell her farm produce. Being the eldest child, I was tasked with looking after my younger ones—a responsibility I didn’t always find amusing because, truth be told, they often took better care of themselves.

I was always restless.

I can’t remember what came over me, but when two of my girlfriends visited, they suggested we have a party.

In those days, throwing a party didn’t cost much (as long as there was a radio to play music). The hardest part was finding a venue. Parties usually took place in someone’s house, but we had strict parents who wouldn’t allow us to gather for such activities.

That day, my friends and I arranged two long benches to create a dancing area. I had a radio (a secret gift) hidden in my room, and the party began.

Before long, more friends from the neighbourhood joined us. I think there was even a drink or two, which was more than enough since it was poured into cups and passed around for everyone to take a sip.

We must have been carried away with dancing because I didn’t hear my mum walk in.

It was unusual for her to return early from the market on the days she went to sell farm produce. I suspect one of the neighbourhood mothers had gone to whisper to her about what was happening in the house.

The music was loud, but the slap she gave my back was even louder. That slap was enough to disperse everyone.

I had to use all my strength to free myself from the severe beating she was giving me and then ran for my life.

I never really got along with my mum.”

My grandmother’s house was always my safe refuge and that was where I ended up for the night.

Usually, my dad came for me after a few days of calming all nerves but this time around, I did not go back.

I left home for good, yet it was not planned. I thought I was going out to come back the next day.

Another thing that bored me was school.

Leaving home was not planned because it started from accompanying one friend to a place where I met other friends and accompanied them somewhere until I found myself in Kano State!

I was about 16 years old at the time.

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Words got to me that my parents were looking for me but I was carried away by the sweetness of freedom.

Eventually, I met an older man who was smitten with me. And it was him who took me to London.

In those days, you just buy your ticket and off you fly.

The long and short of the story is that all my younger siblings live overseas today.

And yours sincerely is the instrument that God used to make it happen.

Before my parents died, they were also making regular trips abroad for vacation.

I see people like us as the sacrificial lambs in every struggling family.

We took the rough route to smoothen the path of the rest of the family.

Sometimes, it is appreciated. Other times, you are on your own. But, it’s a very rough road.

It’s a miracle that one did not end up with compromised health status because a lot of ignorance and risks were perpetuated along the line.

It was not until I became a mother that I understood the hard time I gave to my mother.

I used to think she hated me. And I struggled with that burden for a long time.”

From Oby…

Every struggling family has that child who refuses to let background limitations keep their heads bowed.

And they are often the ones who break free from the chains of limitations that a background imposes on one.

I can think of many ways that a 16-year-old girl on the streets would have ended up in this age.

Those who blame parents for every anomaly in a child should consider how well other children raised by the same parents often turn out, and refrain from attributing every child’s misdemeanour to parenting alone.

Sometimes, parents try their best, but when the streets have a stronger allure for a child, they are helpless.

My advice to parents with difficult children is to learn not to be hard on themselves.

Sometimes, experience teaches these children better.

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