STORY OF MY LIFE

Episode 1. Hi, my name is Marvel , I am 19 years old in 2024. I would like to share some of my experiences and how my life has been going over the past few years. Lately, I have been feeling overwhelmed and considering giving up because I am unsure about my next steps. I have spent countless days and nights thinking about it. Back in high school, my dream was to pursue a career in computer science or computer engineering. hmmmm When I was around 7 or 8 years old, my mother told me that I should go live with my grandmother. She explained that she wouldn’t be able to handle everything on her own because I had two sisters, Idowu and Adijat. At that time, Adijat was already married with two children and was living with Grandma before eventually moving to her husband's house. Later, when her husband's business gained more clients in Abuja, they decided to move there, taking Idowu along to help them. Thanks to God, they supported Idowu through all her education, and she graduated in October 2024. So, I began living with Grandma. Life with her was tough and challenging, especially for a young girl like me. Grandma started working as a housemaid for someone, taking care of an elderly woman similar to her age. After school, I would help her with some tasks, like washing plates, and in return, they would give me some food in the afternoon. Grandma was being paid 6,000 naira then, but over time, they began treating me like a slave too, making me work without any payment. While Grandma received her salary, I was left working for nothing. There was a girl named Bukunmi, who was rude because she thought she was older than me. We often fought, and she would steal Grandma’s money, but Grandma would always suspect me. One day, I was very sick and slept on a bed next to the elderly woman Grandma was taking care of. That woman couldn’t walk or move by herself, so Grandma helped her sit in a wheelchair. The woman left some popcorn beside her, and when she noticed it was gone, she accused me of eating it, which led to another conflict. Time went by, and I eventually reached Primary 6. At that point, my sister's husband came to Ilesa to pick up Grandma. He explained that he couldn’t continue visiting as often as before and wanted Grandma to live with them instead. Initially, Grandma didn’t want to leave, but I convinced her. I thought it was time I learned how to live my own life. I was around 12 or 13 years old then. My grandmother left for Abuja, and I decided to start learning a skill to build a career. I chose graphic design and began training under a man who was supposed to contact my dad for any necessary payments. However, my dad rarely sent him money. As a result, the man often sent me on errands instead of teaching me. Eventually, I stopped going there and focused on my education. I received little financial support, sometimes just ₦500 for a week. Surviving on such an amount was almost impossible. The tenants in our compound sometimes cooked and shared food with me. I also had friends who would give me garri. Our landlady, known as Iyalobirin, was a family acquaintance. When I couldn’t afford to pay the electricity bills, they disconnected the power in my room. I began sleeping in Iyalobirin's living room with her grandchildren, Peter and Bose. These people helped me a lot. When hunger became unbearable, I would sometimes cut unripe plantains, cook, and eat them before going to school. If the teachers demanded to see my parents, I would ask Peter’s stepmother to stand in for me, and she always did. I am deeply grateful to them. This was during my time in SS2. The hunger became too much, so I spoke with my mom about joining the family in Ibadan to continue my education. My parents agreed. In Ibadan, I started attending extra lessons to prepare for WAEC. Though I initially planned to take NECO, my brother convinced me to focus on WAEC instead. I wrote the exam and passed, but my Chemistry and Agriculture results were canceled. I believe it was because others copied my work, as we were barely taught in class. This setback affected my dreams. My elder brother gained admission into university, and our financial situation became tighter. My mom had to shoulder most of the responsibilities. I cried, but I was determined to rewrite the exams. I told them I would take NECO the following year, but there was no money. As the year approached, I started learning graphic design again, but the woman I trained with treated me just like the first man—sending me on errands rather than teaching me. Before moving to Ibadan, I had briefly worked at a petrol station in Ilesa. I tried working at another petrol station in Apata, but I left after a week because they underpaid me. The manager even denied taking part of my earnings, which left me returning home late with nothing. I tried another job at Obasanjo Farms, where they sold day-old chicks. I worked there from morning till evening.