"It wasn’t my fault, boy," Richard hung his head remorsefully. "In those days, my best dream was to become a professional footballer. But my parents would have none of it. So, I quitted going to football pitch. What could I have done? I didn’t give birth myself. Or could I sponsor myself in a football academy or cater for myself if they disown me as a result of my obstinacy? I’ve got no choice but to dance to the beats of my parents. I could remember being beating on several occasions in my primary school days by them when found on the pitch, by my dad, most especially."
"Therefore, you killed your dream of becoming a footballer just because of that?’’
"No, my parents killed it. They’ve wanted me to be a doctor like dad. And so, I grew up to make it a creed for myself, that is either I s
