My life began falling apart. I couldn't get a girlfriend, and the ones I did get were only in it for the money when my novels were initially doing well.
"Well, this is in the past. I have a new life. It seems I've gone back in time. Right now, I'm a new book waiting to be written on, and I plan on not repeating the same mistakes I made in the past. I'll use my knowledge of the future to make my life better. Oh, and I should probably be getting a system or some kind of special ability since regression was possible. I'll wait."
And so, I waited. And waited. Turns out, what was written in those books were just people projecting their thoughts for readers' entertainment. As the days turned to months and the months turned to years, I learned how to crawl, then walk, and finally talk. I already knew how to read, but I discovered that a child's brain could pick things up much faster. Apart from its weak body, everything else was a level up compared to my past life.
The only issue I had was an umbilical hernia. It wasn't serious, but I felt pain and discomfort around my belly button. It tormented me throughout my childhood, coming unexpectedly and leaving as mysteriously as it came. My parents—especially my mom—tried their best to make me feel better, just like in the past.
I was born on the seventeenth of May, 2004. My name is Edwin, which I think translates to "prosperous protector" or something similar. My mom gave me the name, and looking back at my past life, I finally understood why.
My family wasn't particularly rich, but we weren't poor either—depending on what the general public's definition of poor was. The poverty rate in Nigeria was extremely high.
Compared to the general population, my family was doing relatively well. At least we never starved. No matter how hard things got, my dad always found a way to put food on the table.
In my past life, I didn't know what my dad did for a living. But I later discovered he was a contractor with the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC), a Nigerian government agency responsible for developing the oil-rich Niger Delta region. The agency was also responsible for building infrastructure in the Niger Delta states.
Of the 36 states in Nigeria, the Niger Delta comprises nine states: Akwa Ibom, Rivers, Bayelsa, Cross River, Delta, Edo, Abia, Imo, and Ondo. I was from Rivers State, and you might say I was blessed to be born in a state rich in crude oil. My village turned out to be one of the highest producers of oil in the country.
Because of this, it wasn't hard for my dad to get contracts. His job mainly involved building infrastructure such as roads, bridges, or installing streetlights. It seemed like a cool job, and the pay was good—if he managed to secure a contract.
However, the NDDC was highly corrupt. Getting a project was incredibly difficult as the higher-ups preferred to award contracts to their family and friends. My dad, being part of the general public, often struggled to get work. But when he did land a contract, life became much better for us.
This, of course, was only true when his womanizing behavior didn't ruin his relationship with my mom.
My dad was a tall dark handsome man with good build , as someone who hailed from rivers state , he had both the looks , and was eloquent, he spoke little of alot of languages including English, Japanese, pigin (which is widely used in Nigeria) and his native language, he was the second of five children four brothers and a sister
My mom, who was in her thirties at the time, was very smart , loved education and from what i noticed, didn't get to enjoy her childhood , this explains why she made sure i got alot of toys and cartoons growing up .
she wasn't juggled her schooling—pursuing a master's degree in Secretarial Administration—and her job as a secretary for a director at one of the best oil and gas companies in Nigeria. Unfortunately, she was fired a year after I was born. The company considered me a distraction to her work.
Because of me, she couldn't finish her master's degree. She only had her project left to submit and defend, but the stress of pregnancy and childbirth derailed her plans.
My father, on the other hand, could have helped her submit her project. He had plenty of time on his hands, but his unnecessary pride and traditional mindset got in the way. He believed, "A man should provide for a woman, not the other way around." I think he was secretly happy my mom lost her job.
As a child with an adult's consciousness, I felt nothing but hatred for my dad—and guilt for being part of the reason my mom couldn't chase her dreams.
I felt even angrier with my dad for constantly cheating on my mom and making her life miserable. But then I asked myself, "Why hasn't she left?"
My mom was beautiful and could have had many marriage opportunities. So why did she settle for such a toxic man? Before my mom got fired, she saved up enough money. But my dad convinced her to buy him a vehicle he could use as a taxi.
As expected, my mom, being the loving woman she was, got the car for him. He used it as a taxi for only a few months before it became his means of ferrying other women around. I remember several instances where my mom cried alone because of his actions.
It broke my heart. At age one, I swore to myself that I would avenge my mom for all the suffering she endured because of me. I felt it was my duty to repay her in full.
With my memories of the past, I began making plans.
But then it hit me.
"Sh*t. I just realized something important. I know nothing of the past. I can barely remember the name of my school. How do I recall past events?"