His Story, XXI

Thanks for waiting. In case you missed the preview, find it here, so you know what to expect. If you are not sure what Beneath the Smile is about, please check the preview out.

The project aims at looking beyond the smiles of the next person, to see what’s really beneath, what’s really going on? How people really need help and won’t bother saying anything about it but would rather cover it up with a façade of strength, with a smile.
It’s time to look beneath the smile and lend a helping hand. People are going through real things, these are their stories.

We hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.

Today’s story was sent in by one of our readers, who has asked to stay Anonymous.

This is his story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

Hey, don’t even know where to start from. I was born into a family of five, I’m the second and first son :). You really don’t need all this info, let me just go ahead with my story, I have had so many challenges while growing up, having a dad who traveled quite often then, leaving us with mum. It all started when I was little, in primary school, dad always gave mum money to take care of us.

Time for school mum wouldn’t give us money for lunch and will yell we should go to school looking at other kids in school and considering the fact the we always had to trek back home daily under the hot sun had an effect on me, we reported to my dad on phone, mum changed that’s where everything began. Don’t know if it was just me but mum always flogged me all the time no matter how small the crime was to an extent I told some visitors that came around that I would pour hot water on my mum someday they thought I was joking like they will say he’s just a kid and they’ll laugh it off.

In school I wasn’t the brightest, will always come 15th to 17th, in class my best was 10th I was so proud of myself, my elder sister was very intelligent and so was my immediate younger brother I was looked upon as the “black sheep” of the house and the non-intelligent folk / ugliest of all and of course my self-esteem was gone since I was about 7 years old. I always kept to myself, was seen as the quiet one no one knew, dad never allowed toys he saw it as a taboo always giving me elderly advice like I could understand all he was saying then, I kept all of them, made me to always think like an adult, afraid of trying something new, taking risks, making mistakes, friends, the list is endless. I didn’t grow up as a normal kid looking around and seeing how others were around me I still never felt free always shy all the time, then I went for a holiday to my mum’s elder sister’s house in Kaduna, then before the sharia in 1999 stayed for about three months there we hardly ever spoke with my parents on the phone as a little boy, had this cousin of mine that attended NMS Zaria, it was not funny waking up everyday with fear. They beat, punished and made us (me and my brother) cry almost on a daily basis, there was a time they asked me to count all the leaves in the compound and say sorry to them. They did this with all seriousness, they terrified my soul finally we left a day before sharia started and attended the naming ceremony of my last sister that same day. Having three sisters then if you asked me was like a terrible thing, mum would take them out and leave me and my bro to do the chores even on a Saturday morning all in the name of ‘to make their hair’, I learnt how to make fufu from the raw stage and pound, in fact I can do all house chores some of my aunts say I’m a woman and praise me but within I’m really angry.

I was abused by one of our house helps who toiled with me every time the house was empty no one in my family knows about this I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it cause I didn’t even know what was going on. Mum always made me do this and that like I was a house boy leaving others each time I questioned she’ll give the excuse that they can’t do it well but if anything goes wrong I get beaten. Then I preferred staying in school to home, in school I wasn’t really social I had this temper, and low self-esteem would leave me always quiet I was so insecure coupled with the fact that I never got visited in secondary school on visiting days, seeing other kids with their parents, aunts, uncles and family made me very sad I got used to it. Had some people around me who call themselves my friends but were just there, cause of the large amount of provisions I had, never spent time with my parents, not close to any of them, they don’t even know what am capable of.

The story is just too long… I entered the university having no one to look up to, low self-esteem, kept to myself, always worried about one thing or the other, parents who never believed in me… mum once compared me with others academically and I was disappointed, I was ranked second from behind out of 5 I was devastated. Felt all alone, that was probably the worse thing I ever experienced, not being encouraged by my own parents. Always yelling each time I asked them for money and giving others more, presently I have trust issues, never been in a serious relationship the last I had, lasted just 3 months. There is so much to tell, just can’t say it all still. Am serving at the moment, sad, lonely, devastated, lost, frustrated, confused name it. From my write-up you’ll know I’m really confused.

God help me through this 🙂

• • •

Don’t just read, say a prayer.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s ’Her Story, XXXII’ by an Anonymous writer.

You can still send in your own true stories to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)

Her Story, XXXI

Thanks for waiting. In case you missed the preview, find it here, so you know what to expect. If you are not sure what Beneath the Smile is about, please check the preview out.

The project aims at looking beyond the smiles of the next person, to see what’s really beneath, what’s really going on? How people really need help and won’t bother saying anything about it but would rather cover it up with a façade of strength, with a smile.
It’s time to look beneath the smile and lend a helping hand. People are going through real things, these are their stories.

We hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.

Today’s story was sent in by one of our readers, who has asked to stay Anonymous.

This is her story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

Life they say means different things to people.
To me, until recently it meant pain, hardship, loneliness, sorrow . In short, it was meaningless to me. *wipes tears*.

Last out of four lovely children, divorced parents. I grew up with my mum, while the rest grew up with my dad. How come? – mother was 8-months or so pregnant with me when she and father had the last argument and she moved out. Till today, all I know about their breakup was from my mother’s side of the story as I have never spoken to my dad. I am gonna be 20 this year.

I grew up without a father, I never felt his absence. He was never there. My parents got divorced a year after I was born. Mum left with us 4 children, but after a year or so returned the other 3 because she couldn’t cope with 4 children at the time (having not her own place to stay and all) and kept me ’cause I was still very little. So the rest grew up with father&came to visit on holidays. I never saw my father cause he never asked about me. Mum is a disciplinarian, since he didn’t ask, she never let me get in touch.

I am the definition of broken, faithless yet faithful, alone, but full of potentials. Lol. I have what people call ‘blessed hands’. :). No relationship whatsoever with my mother as we never agree, she grew up pouring her frustration on just me (I was always the one around). LooL several times, she told me to go and die- that she had other children (first time, was when I was 6). When I was 8 she told me my father wouldn’t have loved me ’cause I was too stubborn.

This is like opening old wounds for me, cause now, I am in tears. So I’m gonna stop here for now & tell you a short story.

Until July 2010, I had set eyes on my father just once and even this was in the night (when I was less than 5), I bet he barely saw my Colgate teeth as I was so excited to see my dad for the first time. But, my mum shut me up and placed me to sit well in the car. I was hurt, ’cause he didn’t even say hi back, wave back or complain about my mum telling me to give it a rest. Other times when my other siblings came to visit, I’d go through their phones to see if I could steal my father’s number. Lol i did succeed , gave him a call several times and every time he said ‘hello’ i’d hang up. ^_^

July 2010, I had come to Lagos to stay with my cousins for a week, my brother worked with my dad and I knew one of his work outlets. I went there with my uncle’s driver leaving my uncle with the belief that my brother knew I was gonna be there, knowing fully well he wasn’t even at work that day (I went in faith, hoping my dad would be there)… My heart raced as I approached this particular office and saw a white jeep out front (been told what he drove). I came down, hoping this would be some sort of Nigerian film. Lol. I walked in and one worker called me by my elder sisters name (striking resemblance) , I smiled and said no ‘i am looking for her Jnr sister’…. all of them wondered, whispering. I was directed to another office (my dad’s). But before I stepped in (not knowing it was my dad’s) my second sister came out and dragged me in anger by the hand, yelling ‘what the hell are you doing here?! , I am sure mummy put you up to this’. Tears rolled down my cheek, I got back into the car, shaking. My dad came out ,about to enter his car. I told the driver to reverse, I looked at him in adoration, very handsome at 50, tall, dark ,yuppee looking.

I was satisfied.

I told the driver to move and when we drove into traffic, the driver called me and said ‘madam, this man wey dey for this white car dey look you like im sabi u’ I turned to the left, it was my dad, staring at me like he was trying to solve the hardest math he had lost the formula to. Lol oh my! did I smile and nod at him, but he was confused and looked away. I went back sad, angry and happy. My dad didn’t look bad or however they painted him to be, he was TDH yo! Lol, 😦 but he didn’t recognise me, his last born.

I have never … 😥 been happy for a week continuously in my whole life. I gave up, I said to myself  ‘if no ones gonna help you, then help others‘.

That is how I stay happy.

• • •

Don’t just read, say a prayer.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s ’Her Story, XXXII’ by an Anonymous writer.

You can still send in your own true stories to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)