We had each other which meant we had everything, he was my strength and pride , and I was his peace and joy . I had confidence and boldness cause I knew daddy was always there for me no matter what.

With nine siblings, eight of them from different mothers, we didn't get along, it was more like we had to fight for attention and love but I knew I was loved , I just knew. We looked up to him, he was strong and powerful and never giving up a fight .

But he hid and struggled quietly, hiding his pain and weakness behind the shell I once thought was strength. But I was too naive to notice as he slowly and cautiously pushed everyone away until it was to late . My hero , strong and powerful needed to be carried around and helped with everything, Diabetes dealt with him. Taken from hospital to hospital, I knew he wouldn't make , I didn't know how but I just knew , so I cried as I felt that void that he filled slowly become empty.

The nightmare became reality and I was told that my father was dead and it broke me down, he was Gone For Good but somehow I still had doubts that maybe it was all fake .

I had to secondary school as a boarding student the next month, I was nine years old, I might have seemed really young but smarter than most kids my age . Still in pain in a place surrounded by strangers from a different state,tribe and spoke a different language but worst of all , they were all intimidated by the way I spoke and how intelligent I was but that was no longer a pride for me because I was bullied for it . Crying and begging to be heard but that was the way it was and mummy never knew cause I never told her cause she already had a lot to worry about. Too much.