In Yenagoa, life unfolded with new challenges but also presented fresh opportunities. My dad worked tirelessly, mastering the craft of carpentry and earning a reputation as a reliable and skilled artisan. His hands built more than just furniture—they shaped his dreams and gave him pride. My mum, on the other hand, started a small stall at the bustling local market, selling fruits and vegetables. Every sale, no matter how small, was a step towards building a better life. Though things were still difficult, they were no longer merely surviving—they were slowly but surely creating a future they could call their own.
In this new environment, I thrived. Even at a young age, I displayed a spark of curiosity and intelligence that made me stand out. I wasn't just a playful child; I had a deep hunger to learn. My two sisters, Jane and Precious, were always by my side, teaching me what little they had learned from school. By the time I was five, I could read simple words and solve basic arithmetic. I remember how proud they were every time I got something right—it was as if my small victories were theirs too.
One evening, as the family gathered for dinner in our small but cozy home, my dad shared news that would change everything. He smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "The master I work for mentioned a new school opening nearby," he said, his voice filled with hope. "If we save just a little more, we could send both you and your sister there."
My mum's eyes lit up at the mention of school. Education had always seemed like a far-off dream—something distant, just out of reach. "A real school," she whispered, almost afraid to believe it. The idea of sending her children to school was the spark of hope she had been holding onto in the darkest of times.
From that moment on, our family pulled together like never before. Mum worked longer hours at the market, while dad took on additional jobs. Even we children pitched in, running errands and helping neighbors to make a little extra money. Slowly but surely, we managed to save enough for the first term's fees. When the day finally arrived for us to attend school, it was a moment of pure joy and pride for our entire family.
At school, my teachers quickly noticed I wasn't just an ordinary student. Even though I was younger than most of my classmates, I rose to the top of my class. But beyond my academic achievements, what made me stand out even more was my kindness. I never forgot how Jane and Precious had taught me, and I was always eager to help my classmates with their lessons. I also shared my lunch with those who had none—it just felt right to do so.
Then, one evening, my dad came home holding a beautifully carved wooden box, a gift from his master. His face beamed with pride. "He says I've become more than just an apprentice," he announced, his voice full of emotion. "He wants me to partner with him on bigger projects." This was a turning point for our family. With my dad's steady income, life began to shift. We could now afford not only school fees but also small luxuries—new clothes, better food, and even occasional treats. My mum expanded her stall, adding items she once thought impossible—salt, spices, and small bags of rice.
But just as it seemed like we were on the path to a better life, fate struck us with another challenge. One day, my dad came home with his arm bandaged. He had fallen at work and injured himself badly, and the doctor said it would take a year for him to recover. That meant no income for the foreseeable future.
We watched helplessly as everything my dad had worked so hard for seemed to slip away. My mum tried her best, but it was impossible for her to pay school fees for all three of us. One of us had to drop out—and I was the one chosen.
Even though I was only ten years old, I had dreams—big dreams. I wanted to be the best at something, anything. That's when I discovered football. I joined a local football team in our area, and within weeks, I found myself falling deeply in love with the game. I couldn't go a week without playing. Football gave me something that school couldn't at the time—it gave me purpose.
Surprisingly, my parents supported my new passion. They saw the fire in me, and though it must have been hard for them to accept that I might never return to school, they encouraged me to chase my dream. At first, the road was tough—long hours of practice, sore muscles, and no guarantees of success. But with my parents' unwavering support and prayers, I pressed on. I made a promise to them: "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, I'll be a champion. One day, I'll stand on the biggest footballing stage."
As if life wasn't challenging enough, things got even worse when my dad's condition deteriorated. His recovery dragged on longer than expected, and the financial strain on our family deepened. I knew I had to step up. At just ten years old, I began doing hard labor—carrying heavy loads, working odd jobs—just to earn enough to help cover my dad's treatment. It was exhausting, but I didn't have a choice.
Despite the hardships, I never gave up on my football training. In fact, football became my refuge. No matter how hard the day had been, I always found solace on the pitch. Training became my lifestyle—it was the one thing that kept me going, the one thing that gave me hope.
As I look back now, I realize that those years of struggle shaped me into who I am today. They taught me resilience, discipline, and the importance of dreams. Every challenge we faced only made me more determined to succeed. I'm still chasing my dream, and every step I take brings me closer to that moment when I can finally say, "I made it." And when that day comes, I know my parents will be there, smiling with pride, knowing that all their sacrifices were worth it.