At 14, he ran away from home. Now,
he wants to go back to school
BY DEJI AROLOYE
It was about noon. The heat from the
afternoon sun baked Oshodi with intensity,
and perspiration ran down the cheeks of
the folks plying their trade in the chaotic
commercial environment. A young teenager
sat on a fence close to the main road. At
that particular time, a good number of his
peers would be in school. But he was
inside the scorching sun, trying to eke out
a living. He eagerly hoped to see a
commercial driver that would hire his
services for that day. Meet Seun Folajin, a
17-year-old homeless teenager who has
been living underneath the bridge at
Oshodi since 2011.
This afternoon, he looked miserable and
despondent, his eyes as red as fresh
blood. He was casually attired in a black
round-neck shirt, and his dark skin was
coated with a mix of sweat and dust.
When the reporter sought to know where
he stayed, he replied without batting an
eyelid: “I sleep under the bridge.” Because
he needed to work that afternoon, the boy
assured the reporter that he would be
available to talk the following day.
In Lagos, bus assistants are called
conductors. And it is through working as a
bus conductor that he gets money for food
and clothing.
Indeed, the following day, Seun was found
on that same spot. Today, he was garbed
in a red T-shirt and a pair of blue denim
trousers. And he opened up on how he
ran away from his home in Osun State to
become a vagabond at 14.
Seun said he was living with his father in
Iragbiji, a community in Osun State until
four years ago. He said his father was
fond of maltreating him, and when a boy
suggested that there was better life in
Lagos, the then 14-year-old boy
immediately made up his mind about
leaving home, and his abusive father, for
good.
Seun told the reporter: “It was a boy that
I met on the street that brought me to
Lagos. I could no longer bear the suffering
in my father’s house and I ran from home
in Iragbiji to Oshogbo. The boy told me
that we would come to Lagos to stay with
his elder brother, and that we would be
making as much as 5000 naira each day.
From Osogbo, we boarded a train to
Ibadan. We had to sit in the compartment
at the back.”
Throughout the journey, the night breeze
tormented the youngsters like a monstrous
demon in the open space where they sat.
“We got to Ibadan around 4am after
having many stopovers on the way. We
stayed in the railway station till daylight.
The boy told me that we should pick
scraps on the ground in order to sell. But
we were lucky because we saw a school
bag, and found 2, 850 naira inside the
bag. We went to buy food at the canteen,
and an elderly man paid for our food.”
According to him, they were looking so
dirty. He then suggested to his friend that
they should take a shower and buy some
clothes before embarking on their journey
to Lagos. He said: “After buying some
clothes out of the money, we had 1600
naira left and we started our journey to
Lagos. The driver got to Oshodi at 6 pm,
and we alighted from the vehicle and
climbed the bridge.”
Little did Seun know that underneath that
bridge would be his new home for the next
couple of years.
“I have been sleeping under the bridge
since 2011. I lost my mother in 2007 and
my younger brother died a year after. I
went to stay with my grandmother who is
a traditionalist at Ikirun. She used to make
incisions on my body. That was the reason
I ran from her and went to stay with my
aunt. Then I was in Primary 6.
“After staying with my aunt for some time,
my elder sister made an arrangement with
my daddy’s friend and they took me to a
white man at Ila-Orangun in Osun State. I
was enrolled at Oke Iragbiji Grammar
School at Iragbiji. The white man said I
was older for JS1 and they took me to JS
3.My daddy came to take me from the
white man’s house in 2010.”
He remembered with nostalgia the day he
met his friend at Oshogbo around 10 pm.
Then, he had run from home for three
days. He said: “I went to school and came
home late. My father and his new wife
beat me mercilessly, and for many days, I
was not given any food. Even my elder
sister came to plead on my behalf but my
father rained curses on her. After I left
Iragbiji, the boy that brought me to Lagos
gave me 100 naira to buy food at the
railway station in Oshogbo. He told me we
would come to Lagos to stay with his
elder brother.
“It was when we got to Oshodi that I
knew he was lying, but I had to survive.
While he was begging, I was carrying
loads for people and selling pirated CDs for
some commission a week after we came. I
even wanted to go back but I saved some
money with an old man for months and he
disappeared. I later made friends and
started working as a conductor. I did not
go home until six months ago. The
condition is not even better back home
because my father still does not want to
see me.”
Seun said he makes between N500 and
N1000 daily as a conductor. But now, the
little boy is tired of life under the bridge.
“I work daily to get money and even save
some with a man who helps us to keep
our money. But our ‘seniors’ molest us the
way they like. Sometimes at night, they
will dip their hands into our pockets and
take our money and you dare not say
anything. They use planks to beat us
whenever they think we offend them. We
don’t sleep on time because task force
officials come at night to arrest us. We will
wander till 12 am and sleep on the
pavement.”
Asked if he knew the kind of future that
awaits homeless kids, he asserted that he
was quite aware that there was, really, no
future for him and his peers under the
bridge.
“I want to leave this place (underneath the
bridge at Oshodi). This is because I desire
to be great in the future. I am sad at the
kind of life I live. I want to go back to
school and also learn a technical skill. I am
not going back to Osun State because
there is no future in my parents’ house.
But I have faith that one day, I will not be
in this place anymore.”
Source: www.sunnewsonline.com/new/?p=90156

sad story,dats y I hate fatherd..

Seun from arebgesola osunstan (cramjones state of origin) sleeping under a bridge in fashola state.
When we start praising those nonentity we called leaders in south west who are only after their own pocket methink this is what we get

Really sad story..... Aye akamara