If you grew up as a child in Nigeria in the early 2000s, you will understand that life was simple and easy, noisy and full of little adventures. I remember those times we would come outside to play until our names echoed across the compound, or when we started hearing our names from our parents, and one by one, each child disappeared from the playing ground until the next day. We were always eager to resume where we left off the previous night. We didn't have much to worry or be bothered about.
Remember drinking pure water from a white nylon? A Nigerian would possibly remember this, except you are just part of this new generation with no such experience. We believed biscuits and Gala could solve almost any problem - once we have the snacks, we don’t remember anything again. Childhood wasn't perfect, but it was honest. And somehow, even as kids, we were already learning how to survive, create something from nothing and act responsibly without knowing it.
I was still in junior school when I had my first real business idea. I can’t fully explain how or where the thought came from, but it was one day, when I decided that I wanted to make my own money. Not to be rich and not for anything fancy - what do kids even know about that! I only wanted to earn - that was it. For me, there was something exciting about the idea of having money that came from my own pocket and effort.
So, I started small with a little capital loaned from my mother. I put together what I could manage as a child and began selling. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just a simple idea, and also the courage to try something new. I remember sitting and staring at my newfound business, waiting and hoping someone would notice what I was selling.
Then it happened.
My first customer came.
It was another young kid. I doubt he or she was even aware that they were about to change how I saw myself. I remember the moment clearly. The exchange, the money placed in my hand, the short interaction that meant so much more to me than it did to them. When I realised that someone had actually bought what I was selling and paid for it, my heart raced.
I felt happy. I mean genuinely.
As small as the money was then, it felt heavy within me, full of meaning. To me, it wasn't just the money, but proof that something that came up with as an idea worked. Proof that I could create value and that I could solve a problem and not wait until adulthood to start learning how life worked.
I held that first earning with pride. I felt like I’d grown up and become responsible. I felt the confidence in the way I moved around, knowing a young girl like me could start something. It was a quiet moment, but it planted something deep inside me.
When I look back now, that small business I started as a young girl didn't just help me earn my first money; it also gave me a sense of independence. Whenever I remember this experience, I smile, especially how that little kid customer became part of my story without even knowing.
This is in response to the prompt published here
Images are generated by Gemini
