I remember my infancy and all that I went through since I was born. Tuesday, 21st of March 1989 3:00 am, the cry of a baby. "it's a girl" - the doctor said. i don't know who else was there in the labor room but I know for sure that my dad wasn't. i didn't have that motherly care a baby of my tenderly age i needed, but maybe i had a greater one. My grandma took me under her care while my mum travelled out to look for fortune. in this eyes of everybody i was lucky because i had a mum who lived abroad, but as we say "only the person who wears the shoe knows where it hurts". i was small and knew nothing. for the 8 years i spent my grandma in my village i experienced a lot of things. my dad never showed up. my mum came three to four times to visit me and bought me gift, but yet that wasn't enough to fill the empty space that was in my heart.
september 1997 i was brought to Lagos to live with my Aunt and this is another chapter of my life.
it was a flat in Lagos, but it wasn't very big, composed of two bedrooms, a toilet, a bathroom, a kitchen, a corridor, a sittingroom and a balcony. I had been to that house before with my grandma. she used to visit it regularly. i was even there when my uncles got married, when Junior and Praise were born. the following year I came Victor was born. My aunt is a business woman and she owns a restaurant were she sells drinks and pepper soup. the shop was not very far from our house. it took 10 minutes by motorbike and 30 minutes on foot. the salesgirls changed from time to time. i remember for the two years i stayed there there had been 3-4 salesgirls. the relationship with my uncles was very fake. i was usually beaten up, i had to take the meat to the shop on foot 8 (i was only 8-9) but when my mum came to visit this never happened. I and my cousin were like Tom and Jerry. I used to use him to relieve my pains and sorrows. but i was later beaten up for beating him up. the more i was beaten up the more i beat him up. it was a vicious circle. I'll explain more in the next chapter!
Even before I went to leave with my uncles in Lagos my aunt had already complained that she didn't want me and junior in the same house because all we did was to fight each other. But her husband said that the minimum they could do was to bring me to Lagos after all what my mother had done for them. My mother has regards for junior and always made sure she bought what she bought for me for junior. There is nothing I had that he didn't have but there were lots he had I didn't. Every opportunity was good to fight each other. I hated it when he, while we were eating ogbono soup, put his mouth on the plate so that it wouldn't fall out. I wasn't the only one who thought it was disgusting. Rosemary, the house keeper also thought the same. So it happened that after so many complains that junior had his own separate plate. From what I have narrated it seems like there had never been a place i felt really OK. Well there was one. My school. I was brilliant and concluded my primary education at 10 before coming to Europe. All teachers adored me and I was also nominated social prefect in class 5. Not headgirl because i was never punctual . OK! My private teacher also did a great job but I have myself to complement for my brilliant results. An episode occurred one day. My aunt used to bring food to us at school while heading to the shop. One day the school janitress made a mistake and brought me junior's meal. his was usually in flask while mine was in a plastic plate. I ate it with taste. I didn't leave a grain of rice. When we got home this is what junior said "The food the school janitress brought to me was small". And as usual I was the one to take the blame because I didn't realize the woman's mistake and take junior's food to him. The truth is that I knew but for once I wanted to eat from the "nice" flask and also abundantly!
I left Nigeria september 14th 1999 at Muritala Muhammad airport at 9:00pm and arrived in Italy the next day at 06:00am. During my journey I watched the movie the mummy: had nightmares for weeks. The souvenirs I got from the plane were nice but I can't say the same about the food. As I landed I could feel the difference already: everywhere was bright, oyinbos full everywhere. I had arrived in paradise. As soon as I saw my mum I ran to hug her. She was with my adoptive father and the husband of the woman who I came along with. We didn't go home immediately but went to the friends' house for a happy "reuniting". That was the first time I ate semolini. Uhmmm! I have hated pounded yam and eba ever since that day. Their house was very nice and clean. As every child I expected the house to contain a swimming pool as well but up till today I am still living with a disappointment. On my way back home I could see the beautiful fields and houses. Italy don't have fantasy in building houses are they all quite look the same but then as a kid, i was so amused at the sight of such wonder. The clean and well built roads, the decent and nice kept cars, the quietness and harmony in the atmosphere made me to fall in love with this Country.
My house wasn't as big as the first one I visited but it was nice and clean. I didn't get a room of my own and I shared the bed with my mother. Although with my little mind I had sensed some weirdness in the way things in the house were done, i still enjoyed my new life. It was nice and homely. Finally I was in a place I could call home.
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. OK! My private teacher also did a great job but I have myself to complement for my brilliant results. 
