Growing up in an African home doesn’t look so attractive for non-Africans. Ass whooping when we mess up was a day-to-day routine because as kids we would always mess things up. Lol. But then, it helped me a lot. A lot of dirty behaviors, I dropped them at a young age because of the reactions I’d always get from my parents. It moulded me into a being that has great respect for elderly people because in an African home, being tolerated is not being tolerated at all.
So despite the adventure and however it may look on the outside, I’ve grown to believe all of it were necessary for certain reasons.
I am a Nigerian! 🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬
I wasn’t born with a silver spoon so I didn’t get to live in the biggest of mansions, nor live the flashiest lifestyle. There were a lot of obstacles growing up, financially and otherwise but my parents still made sure I get most of everything I ever wanted and be the happiest I could ever be at most times.
In a way, growing up this way gave me a lot of little experience and adventure. Playing out with other little kids is one of the few things those in “mansions” never got to experience. And even if they got to do so, they’ll be limited greatly. Listening to moonlight tales from Grandma outside, in the dark, with just the moonlight shining on us was another great experience growing up.
•My worst experience growing up•
I had just turn 3 at the moment and had fallen ill. 😣😥
Not being so financially pompous, my parents had to take me to the cheapest affordable clinic for a check up. And we fell into the hands of quacks 😞. I was very unfortunate.
Based on the story given to me by my mom, I was injected with something she had no idea about by a nurse that claimed she knew exactly what she was doing. So it seemed the drug I was injected with, was so strong for a little boy my age and it damaged my left leg. I was completely paralyzed by my left leg at first, then partially after some months. With time I got to kick with it and it got better but not back at it’s original form. It was the saddest moment of my life. I always cried everyday for close to a year and my mom cried more than I did. A 3-year old boy never deserved to go through so much pain and definitely not her son which she held for 9 months within. I went through numerous hospitals trying to correct the situation and ended up spending so much of the little money we had by then, but still, to no avail.
The nurse actually ran away and hasn’t been heard of till this day.
But then, it’s all behind me now. I’ve grown to accept myself the way I am and strive for the best.
Now I’m a medical student 👨🎓. Which is definitely, with hardwork, going to be a medical doctor in a few years time.
Who would’ve thought so?
I’m all grateful for the experience I had growing up and I want to thank 
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