ikemesit4477:
so if Belgium is developed does it mean everybody must be rich! There is no country in the world where everybody is rich at the same time, they must be a huge gap between the rich and the poor in every given country!

Everyone musnt be rich but no one is that poor to be borrowing bread in a country like Belgium!

Truth or not thats really touching, wish nigeria is that nice for a poor man to have refrigirator, we for start to sell ice block for area... God lift us higher. Amen

When things were going well, I was reading newspapers articles and they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker.
When things weren’t going well, they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker of Congolese descent.


This got me

emmabest2000:
Damn


The tori long sha !


But then ....

Man,it's OK to be a sophisticated m*ron,but it becomes a problem when you can't control it,thereby,displaying it everywhere you go & also trying to drag others to the same "sophistication "

CSTR1003:
And yet he is hanging out with pogba and buying the latest cars.

He has forgotten the value of money and his father's sad example.

Only Ngolo kante has sense among these footballers.

Haha i'm sure Ngolo changes to pens trousers and long sleeve after every match

Big Rom my man
So touching, I had to read ever bit.
Quite an inspiring and motivating story. Never ever you give up on your dreams, keep grinding some day you will definitely get to the top.

Adefemiaderoju1:
Thank God for your life bro but come down to Nigeria here you will see people 50 times worst than yours

He never said people are not poor out there...he was even motivating people who think that their situation(s) is irredeemable, that they can actually turn things for good if they so detest their present situation...& work hard towards that.


"Here is the lesson- You don't joke with a boy that's hungry ( hungry for success & better life)" - Lukaku

pocohantas:


I want some more, call me Oliver Twist .

He has at least two WC matches left, you'll see more

Gangster1ms:

Everyone musnt be rich but no one is that poor to be borrowing bread in a country like Belgium!

Stop saying what u don't know.. Pep of African origin are suffering till date in Belgium.. You need to work twice as hard as the average white man to have a decent life.. No every story is a lie

Zonacom:
When things were going well, I was reading newspapers articles and they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker.
When things weren’t going well, they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker of Congolese descent.


This got me

I swear.. Till date Africans are still suffering from this

shebi u dey drink milk and u also have a refridgerator.i remember when i was a kid also,when my mum wd prepare concortion rice for us.tbh,we thought we were enjoying to d extent that we always boast to our friends what we ate.or preparing the amala of the previous day mixed together with ewedu and stew,lol,we were always happy to eat it then,we will even remind our mum when next we will be eating it,we were innocent.i dnt wanna dive into the horrible ones coz d former was better.we all have humble beginnings but not everyone see the light at the end of the tunnel.be grateful.

Hmn! Lukaku's story is an indication that tough time never last, but tough people do.
After hardship comes ease. It's really emotional one from Belgian striker of Congolese descent.

OneCorner:
U even get working refrigerator for house

my reaction. Im nor even no poverty.

very touching... life is short for u to be stressed... just be cool with what u have passion for.... work hard and pray harder

so touching
I believe one day we go make am

although i'm a man utd fan i dont like this dude that much, but i must say this, i was touched, and even inspired by this story. kudos man.
all black are born to survive and overcome no matter the situation, and thats our greatest strenght.

"Let that be a lesson. You don't play around with a boy who is hungry." - Romelu Lukaku

FlirtyKaren:
Romelu Lukaku, who is currently representing Belgium at the ongoing FIFA World Cup in Russia, has shared a very emotional story about his childhood and how his family lived in abject poverty.

In an interview with The Players Tribune, Lukaku talked about his struggle growing up as a black footballer in Belgium and how he vowed to be the bet player ever in the country.

Read his full emotional story below:

"I remember the exact moment I knew we were broke. I can still picture my mum at the refrigerator and the look on her face.

I was six years old, and I came home for lunch during our break at school. My mum had the same thing on the menu every single day: Bread and milk. When you’re a kid, you don’t even think about it. But I guess that’s what we could afford.

Then this one day I came home, and I walked into the kitchen, and I saw my mum at the refrigerator with the box of milk, like normal. But this time she was mixing something in with it. She was shaking it all up, you know? I didn’t understand what was going on. Then she brought my lunch over to me, and she was smiling like everything was cool. But I realized right away what was going on.

She was mixing water in with the milk. We didn’t have enough money to make it last the whole week. We were broke. Not just poor, but broke.

My father had been a pro footballer, but he was at the end of his career and the money was all gone. The first thing to go was the cable TV. No more football. No more Match of the Day. No signal.

Then I’d come home at night and the lights would be shut off. No electricity for two, three weeks at a time.

Then I’d want to take a bath, and there would be no hot water. My mum would heat up a kettle on the stove, and I’d stand in the shower splashing the warm water on top of my head with a cup.

There were even times when my mum had to “borrow” bread from the bakery down the street. The bakers knew me and my little brother, so they’d let her take a loaf of bread on Monday and pay them back on Friday.

I knew we were struggling. But when she was mixing in water with the milk, I realized it was over, you know what I mean? This was our life.


I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want her to stress. I just ate my lunch. But I swear to God, I made a promise to myself that day. It was like somebody snapped their fingers and woke me up. I knew exactly what I had to do, and what I was going to do.

I couldn’t see my mother living like that. Nah, nah, nah. I couldn’t have that.

People in football love to talk about mental strength. Well, I’m the strongest dude you’re ever going to meet. Because I remember sitting in the dark with my brother and my mom, saying our prayers, and thinking, believing, knowing … it’s going to happen.

I kept my promise to myself for a while. But then some days I’d come home from school and find my mum crying. So I finally told her one day, “Mum, it’s gonna change. You’ll see. I’m going to play football for Anderlecht, and it’s going to happen soon. We’ll be good. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

I was six.

I asked my father, “When can you start playing professional football?”

He said, “Sixteen.”

I said, “O.K., sixteen then.”

It was going to happen. Period.

Let me tell you something — every game I ever played was a Final. When I played in the park, it was a Final. When I played during break in kindergarten, it was a Final. I’m dead-ass serious. I used to try to tear the cover off the ball every time I shot it. Full power. We weren’t hitting R1, bro. No finesse shot. I didn’t have the new FIFA. I didn’t have a Playstation. I wasn’t playing around. I was trying to kill you.

When I started growing taller, some of the teachers and the parents would be stressing me. I’ll never forget the first time I heard one of the adults say, “Hey, how old are you? What year were you born?”

I’m like, What? Are you serious?

When I was 11 years old, I was playing for the Lièrse youth team, and one of the parents from the other team literally tried to stop me from going on the pitch. He was like, “How old is this kid? Where is his I.D.? Where is he from?”

I thought, Where am I from? What? I was born in Antwerp. I’m from Belgium.

My dad wasn’t there, because he didn’t have a car to drive to my away games. I was all alone, and I had to stand up for myself. I went and got my I.D. from my bag and showed it to all the parents, and they were passing it around inspecting it, and I remember the blood just rushing through me … and I thought, “Oh, I’m gonna kill your son even more now. I was already going to kill him, but now I’m gonna destroy him. You’re gonna drive the boy home crying now.”

I wanted to be the best footballer in Belgian history. That was my goal. Not good. Not great. The best. I played with so much anger, because of a lot of things … because of the rats running around in our apartment … because I couldn’t watch the Champions League … because of how the other parents used to look at me.

I was on a mission.

When I was 12, I scored 76 goals in 34 games.

I scored them all wearing my dad’s shoes. Once our feet got to be the same size, we used to share.

One day I called up my grandfather — my mum’s dad. He was one of the most important people in my life. He was my connection back to Congo, where my mum and dad are from. So I was on the phone with him one day, and I said, “Yeah, I’m doing really well. I scored 76 goals, and we won the league. The big teams are noticing me.”

And usually, he always wanted to hear about my football. But this time it was strange. He said, “Yeah, Rom. Yeah, that’s great. But can you do me a favor?”

I said, “Yeah, what is it?”

He said, “Can you look after my daughter, please?”

I remember being so confused. Like, what’s Grandad on about?

I said, “Mum? Yeah, we’re cool. We’re O.K.”

He said, “No, promise me. Can you promise me? Just look after my daughter. Just look after her for me, O.K.?”

I said, “Yeah, Granddad. I got it. I promise you.”

Five days later he passed away. And then I understood what he really meant.

It makes me so sad to think about, because I just wish that he could have lived another four years to see me play for Anderlecht. To see that I kept my promise, you know? To see that everything was going to be O.K.

I told my mum that I would make it at 16.

I was late by 11 days.

May 24, 2009.

The playoff final. Anderlecht vs. Standard Liège.

Lukaku: To me, every game was a final.

That was the craziest day of my life. But we have to back up for a minute. Because at the start of the season, I was barely playing for the Anderlecht U-19s. The coach had me coming off the bench. I’m like, “How the hell am I going to sign a pro contract on my 16th birthday if I’m still on the bench for the U-19s?”

So I made a bet with our coach.

I told him, “I’ll guarantee you something. If you actually play me, I’m going to score 25 goals by December.”

He laughed. He literally laughed at me.

I said, “Let’s make a bet then.”

He said, “O.K., but if you don’t score 25 by December, you’re going to the bench.”

I said, “Fine, but if I win, you’re going to clean all the minivans that take the players home from training.”

He said, “O.K., it’s a deal.”

I said, “And one more thing. You have to make pancakes for us every day.”

He said, “O.K., fine.”

That was the dumbest bet that man ever made.

I had 25 by November. We were eating pancakes before Christmas, bro.

Let that be a lesson. You don’t play around with a boy who’s hungry!

I signed my pro contract with Anderlecht on my birthday, May 13. Went straight out and bought the new FIFA and a cable package. It was already the end of the season, so I was at home chilling. But the Belgian league was crazy that year, because Anderlecht and Standard Liege had finished tied on points. So there was a two-leg playoff to decide the title.

During the first leg, I’m at home watching on TV like a fan.

Then the day before the second leg, I get a phone call from the coach of the reserves.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Rom. What are you doing?”

“About to go play football in the park.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Pack your bags. Right now.”

“What? What did I do?”

“No, no, no. You need to get to the stadium right now. The first team wants you now.”

“Yo …. What?! Me?!”

“Yeah, you. Come now.”

I literally sprinted into my dad’s bedroom and was like, “Yo! Get your ass up right now! We gotta go, man!”

He’s like, “Huh? What? Go where?”

I’m like, “ANDERLECHT, MAN.”

I’ll never forget, I showed up to the stadium, and I like pretty much ran into the dressing room and the kitman said, “O.K., kid, what number do you want?”

And I said, “Give me number 10.”

The kitman said, “O.K., kid, what number do you want?” And I said, “Give me number 10.”
Hahahaha! I don’t know. I was too young to be scared I guess.

He was like, “Academy players have to take 30 and above.”

I said, “O.K., well, three plus six equals nine, and that’s a cool number, so give me 36.”

That night at the hotel, the senior players made me sing a song for them at dinner. I can’t even remember what I picked. My head was spinning.

The next morning, my friend literally knocked on the door of my house to see if I wanted to play football and my mum was like, “He’s out playing.”

My friend said, “Playing where?”

She said, “The final.”

We got off the bus at the stadium, and every single player walked in wearing a cool suit. Except me. I came off the bus wearing a terrible tracksuit, and all the TV cameras were right in my face. The walk to the locker room was like 300 meters. Maybe a three-minute walk. As soon as I put my foot in the locker room, my phone starts blowing up. Everybody had seen me on TV. I had 25 messages in three minutes. My friends were going crazy.

“Bro?! WHY ARE YOU AT THE GAME?!”

“Rom, what is happening? WHY ARE YOU ON TV?”

The only person I texted back was my best friend. I said, “Bro, I don’t know if I’m gonna play. I don’t know what’s going on. But just keep watching the TV.”

In the 63rd minute, the manager subbed me on.

I ran out onto the field for Anderlecht at 16 years and 11 days old.

We lost the final that day, but I was already in heaven. I made good on my promise to my mother and to my grandad. That was the moment I knew we were gonna be O.K.

The next season, I was still finishing up my last year of high school and playing in the Europa League at the same time. I used to have to take a big bag to school so I could catch a flight in the afternoon. We won the league by a mile, and I finished second for African Player of the Year. It was just … crazy.

I actually expected all that to happen, but maybe not so fast. All of sudden, the media was building me up, and putting all these expectations on me. Especially with the national team. For whatever reason, I just wasn’t playing well for Belgium. It wasn’t working out.

But, yo — come on. I was 17! 18! 19!

When things were going well, I was reading newspapers articles and they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker.

When things weren’t going well, they were calling me Romelu Lukaku, the Belgian striker of Congolese descent.

If you don’t like the way I play, that’s fine. But I was born here. I grew up in Antwerp, and Liège and Brussels. I dreamed of playing for Anderlecht. I dreamed of being Vincent Kompany. I’ll start a sentence in French and finish it in Dutch, and I’ll throw in some Spanish or Portuguese or Lingala, depending on what neighborhood we’re in.

I’m Belgian.

We’re all Belgian. That’s what makes this country cool, right?

I don’t know why some people in my own country want to see me fail. I really don’t. When I went to Chelsea and I wasn’t playing, I heard them laughing at me. When I got loaned out to West Brom, I heard them laughing at me.

But it’s cool. Those people weren’t with me when we were pouring water in our cereal. If you weren’t with me when I had nothing, then you can’t really understand me.

You know what’s funny? I missed 10 years of Champions League football when I was a kid. We never could afford it. I would come into school and all the kids would be talking about the final, and I’d have no idea what happened. I remember back in 2002, when Madrid played Leverkusen, everybody was like, “The volley! Oh my God, the volley!”

I had to pretend like I knew what they were talking about.

Two weeks later, we were sitting in computer class, and one of my friends downloaded the video off the Internet, and I finally saw Zidane smash it into the top corner with his left.

That summer, I went over to his house so I could watch Ronaldo Fenomeno in the World Cup Final. Everything else from that tournament is just a story I heard from the kids at school.

Ha! I remember I had holes in my shoes in 2002. Big holes.

Twelve years later, I was playing in the World Cup.

Now I’m about to play in another World Cup, and you know what? I’m going to remember to have fun this time. Life is too short for the stress and the drama. People can say whatever they want about our team, and about me.

Man, listen — when we were kids, we couldn’t even afford to watch Thierry Henry on Match of the Day! Now I’m learning from him every day with the national team. I’m standing with the legend, in the flesh, and he’s telling me all about how to run into space like he used to do. Thierry might be the only guy in the world who watches more football than me. We debate everything. We’re sitting around and having debates about German second division football.

I’m like, “Thierry, have you seen the Fortuna Düsseldorf setup, though?”

He’s like, “Don’t be silly. Yes, of course.”

That’s the coolest thing in the world, to me.

I just really, really wish my grandad was around to witness this.

I’m not talking about the Premier League.

Not Manchester United.

Not the Champions League.

Not the World Cups.

That’s not what I mean. I just wish he was around to see the life we have now. I wish I could have one more phone call with him, and I could let him know

“See? I told you. Your daughter is OK. No more rats in the apartment. No more sleeping on the floor. No more stress. We’re good now. We’re good …

They don’t have to check the I.D. any more. They know our name.”

https://lailasnews.com/we-were-so-poor-mother-borrowed-bread-for-us-to-eat-romelu-lukaku/

. I just needed to quote this

all u think abt is odds

maron5:
Too long a letter...daily 2 odds guaranteed, check my signature

Hmmm
if dats d case there will b no need to sell ice blocks either

clive2u:
Truth or not thats really touching, wish nigeria is that nice for a poor man to have refrigirator, we for start to sell ice block for area... God lift us higher. Amen

I'm happy for you and your family bro, and one more thing pls improve more at Man utd it's, good luck in world cup..

FlirtyKaren:
Romelu Lukaku, who is currently representing Belgium at the ongoing FIFA World Cup in Russia, has shared a very emotional story about his childhood and how his family lived in abject poverty.

In an interview with The Players Tribune, Lukaku talked about his struggle growing up as a black footballer in Belgium and how he vowed to be the bet player ever in the country.

Read his full emotional story below:

"I remember the exact moment I knew we were broke. I can still picture my mum at the refrigerator and the look on her face.

I was six years old, and I came home for lunch during our break at school. My mum had the same thing on the menu every single day: Bread and milk. When you’re a kid, you don’t even think about it. But I guess that’s what we could afford.

Then this one day I came home, and I walked into the kitchen, and I saw my mum at the refrigerator with the box of milk, like normal. But this time she was mixing something in with it. She was shaking it all up, you know? I didn’t understand what was going on. Then she brought my lunch over to me, and she was smiling like everything was cool. But I realized right away what was going on.

She was mixing water in with the milk. We didn’t have enough money to make it last the whole week. We were broke. Not just poor, but broke....

One day I called up my grandfather — my mum’s dad. He was one of the most important people in my life. He was my connection back to Congo, where my mum and dad are from. So I was on the phone with him one day, and I said, “Yeah, I’m doing really well. I scored 76 goals, and we won the league. The big teams are noticing me.”

And usually, he always wanted to hear about my football. But this time it was strange. He said, “Yeah, Rom. Yeah, that’s great. But can you do me a favor?”

I said, “Yeah, what is it?”

He said, “Can you look after my daughter, please?”

I remember being so confused. Like, what’s Grandad on about?

I said, “Mum? Yeah, we’re cool. We’re O.K.”

He said, “No, promise me. Can you promise me? Just look after my daughter. Just look after her for me, O.K.?”

I said, “Yeah, Granddad. I got it. I promise you.”

Five days later he passed away. And then I understood what he really meant.

It makes me so sad to think about, because I just wish that he could have lived another four years to see me play for Anderlecht. To see that I kept my promise, you know? To see that everything was going to be O.K.....

I just really, really wish my grandad was around to witness this.

I’m not talking about the Premier League.

Not Manchester United.

Not the Champions League.

Not the World Cups.

That’s not what I mean. I just wish he was around to see the life we have now. I wish I could have one more phone call with him, and I could let him know

“See? I told you. Your daughter is OK. No more rats in the apartment. No more sleeping on the floor. No more stress. We’re good now. We’re good …

They don’t have to check the I.D. any more. They know our name.”

https://lailasnews.com/we-were-so-poor-mother-borrowed-bread-for-us-to-eat-romelu-lukaku/

This is so very inspiring! I had goosebumps just reading it! And my favourite phrase in the whole story?

"They don’t have to check the I.D. any more. They know our name.”

Almost everyone knows Lukaku's name, now. He has arrived. May your reign on the football pitch be long, Lukaku. I wish you all the best!

akanbiaa:
They borrowed on Friday and paid on Monday. Left to me as owner of bakery I would have given them free bread sometimes as part of my social responsibility to the community that let my bakery thrive.

This guy in his kindness borrowed bread to them. Paid or didn't pay hunger was quenched. Did Lukaku appreciate these kindness

everybody has a story to tell

Teetopz:
Dude is on 55k per month salary ,fiancee is on 58k salary ..don't have solid savings but want to throw an elaborate wedding party..cos wife wanna "show" her friends

U'd think with the exposure we have, this generation will make better life decisions than our parents

where did you find this your stat? Is it 58k per week or per month?............ Enlighten me pls

Hear Lukaku, he never blamed the Government, he thought of how to make things better. Those of you blaming Buhari and Government, hear. Hungry still dey Europe o!

I think he should go and watch C Ronaldo documentary story... He'd know what it means to be poor and then, become successful through football.

emi14:
I couldn't finish the long story. Thank God you survived. But did you try to remember that family that borrowed bread to ur family now you're rich?

She actually borrowed from a bakery

A very honest guy
Much love for you bro
Thank God you are an African
Meanwhile don't get injured during the world cup
We need you at Manchester united

emmabest2000:
Damn


The tori long sha !


But then ....

What will he gain for lying? A brand lyk him. It's of no use to him now. The story is for you to be inspired n kip doing it. If person no share him story una go say na occultist, he has something in his cupboard. Now he shared his story, u smell lies.. People can never be pleased. Nonsense

emi14:
I couldn't finish the long story. Thank God you survived. But did you try to remember that family that borrowed bread to ur family now you're rich?

init from a bakery his mum borrowed the bread??....

also she later paid for it.

emi14:


This guy in his kindness borrowed bread to them. Paid or didn't pay hunger was quenched. Did Lukaku appreciate these kindness

When a bank borrows you money and you struggle to pay back, do you still show appreciation after completing payment?