This is my 1st visit to the country since I left to pursue my career as a model.As my driver drove past Ojuelegba bridge,memories flooded my mind.I could remember vividly many nights I slept and woke up under the Ojuelegba bridge,with motorist and touts being my neighbours.The canal was my Jacuzzi and I lived the life of a queen at some point as the touts were always at my beck and call although I tried not to mess up my life by smoking Igbo(Indian hemp) and the likes. Ewa agoyin, agege bread and pure water was a continental dish as opposed to the regular kulikuli and garri that became my communion.The hustling knew no bounds as I engaged in different trades to make ends meet. Hawking of pure water on Lagos busy roads and running after prospective clients who needed my products only helped to keep me fit as I didn't have to register at the gym.
Every night I prayed for change,I soaked my cemented pillow with tears begging God to change my story and give me a new song.I haven't really known any family just in case you are about to ask those sanctimonious questions I have heard people ask often times than not when I begged for help.
I grew up knowing just one woman in my entire life,I called her Mama because everyone called her that.Mama and I lived in a shack.Mama swept and washed gutters for a living and with her meagre salary, we could barely do much.I couldn't enroll in a school cos Mama couldn't afford it; so I ended up as her personal assistant. Mama was getting very old and couldn't continue with her day job as her back always ached from incessant bending over.Mama got very sick; from the little we had,I bought some drugs from a nearby pharmacy but mama's condition grew worse.On the 6th day of Mama's ailment,she started to stool blood and cough out blood. I cleaned the mess with my shirt since we didn't have rags.there was no one to call as we lived alone in a wooden house Mama built herself(she always regaled me with stories of how she single-handedly built the house we lived in the dump).I was confused ,I ran out and screamed for help but nobody came to my rescue as it was pitch black and quiet outside.when I got back inside, I saw Mama'a Lifeless body on the floor.I cried and tried to revive her but I couldn't so I slept on her body crying till I slept off.

I woke up with the next morning right beside Mama's dead body,then it hit me again like a wrecking ball that Mama was no more.It was already daylight,the sky was bright and I ran out to get help on the street.I spoke yoruba and local English which Mama taught me.Finally, some Samaritans came to my rescue and called government officials who came and took Mama's body away.but nobody took me away,No one was interested in adopting me.I wanted to be with Mama,I wanted to eat dundun (fried sweet potato) with Mama,I wanted to hear her stories which she told every night,I wanted her to massage my back with Ori(sheabutter).Mama,the woman I grew to know as a mother even though I have heard people whisper she wasn't my real mother but Mama treated me as her own daughter so I figured those were just rumours.
I couldn't sleep that night,I was lonely,scared and confused.I was only 9 years old as Mama told me.she promised to buy me a new skirt when next she got her pay.As I lay on the wooden slate,I cried for the pain mama went through before her death, there was no consolation for my young heart as I was devastated and scared for the world unknown.

Ten years down the line; as I grew older,I hustled more.I sold pure water for a living and started to live under the bridge when flood carted away Mama's Wooden mansion. I wasn't deterred,I was hell bent on becoming successful.I saved up the little money I made and sent myself through school.I grew into a beautiful woman with a model figure but still hustled selling water in traffic after school. On a fateful day..........................

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THANK YOU

nice write up