Unbroken

I have known suffering, and I have experienced it firsthand. There were many times I wanted to give up but for some reason, I have always been resilient.

Growing up in Badagry was tough. My father was a bricklayer and my mother was forced into early marriage with a man who was old, uncaring, and very authoritative. In fact, my father was a bully.

We lived in Cotonou until he lost his job with a local building company. After that, he forced us to move to Badagry because he believed there were opportunities there. And so, he forced my mother and six children to relocate.

The settlement in Badagry was not what we expected. There were many Cotonou indigenes living there but life was hard.

Almost overnight, my once hardworking father became lazy. He would sit with his jobless, drunk friends and play draught from dusk till dawn. He only returned home at night to eat, harass my mother for money, beat her if she refused or force himself on her. That was the routine every night.

At a very early age, I learned how to work and support my mother. The responsibility for rent, food and clothing rested solely on her shoulders. Even though I wanted to go to school, I knew it was almost impossible. There were free public schools but my parents—no, my mother—could not afford books, uniforms and other school requirements for six children. So, all of us had to learn how to work and earn a living early in life.

One day, my father needed money to pay a debt from the bar where he drank. He asked my mother for money but she refused because what she had was meant to pay the neighborhood nurse treating her illness. My father became angry and beat her until she passed out. That incident changed everything.

Mama left the house and never returned. She moved in with her younger sister in Lagos. Life there was not perfect but it was better than Badagry. Lagos gave her opportunities to work and earn money.

She could not take us along because according to our customs, if a woman left her husband with her children, the children would die one after the other. So, Mama had to sneak into Badagry to see us. She brought food, clothes and money. I was glad she left because it meant we could go to school and live a slightly better life.

In the middle of all this hardship, my father took in a new wife. I still wonder what she saw in him. He told her that my mother was a witch and that was why he sent her away. His new wife constantly reminded us that we were little witches. She bragged about giving my father “angelic children,” unlike us. When she could not have children, she blamed us for tying her womb. Meanwhile, rumor had it that she had been married before for many years without having children.

My father never asked how we survived. He never asked how we enrolled in school. He was not interested in us at all. He only cared about himself. He was mean and despicable.

We went to school in the mornings and learned different trades in the afternoons. This helped support whatever Mama sent. I sold chin chin and cakes in school. My snacks were so good that even teachers placed orders. Selling in school was not allowed but I was very brilliant and many people knew my story, so they overlooked it. I was very grateful.

I hated my father with all my heart. There were men like him in the community but his neglect of his children was on another level.

Gradually, things began to change. My older sister and I saved enough money to rent a room in Oto-Awori, still within Badagry. I learned hair making while also baking pastries. I gained customers who came all the way from Lagos to make their hair. That was how I got the opportunity to work in a big salon on the Island.

Working there was terrible. My madam was harsh and insulting but I endured it for two years to learn and improve my skills. She provided free accommodation for her staff in her boys’ quarters and constantly reminded us that without her, we would be living under a bridge. She was tough but I knew why I was there.

I made good money at the salon. People liked me and I received generous tips. One day, I checked my account balance and smiled. I never imagined I would have that kind of money in my life.

After two years, I left my madam amid insults and curses. She wanted me to stay but it was time to move on. I rented a room and parlour in Surulere and also got a shop nearby. People who knew me from my previous workplace helped me in ways I can never forget.

Years later, all I can do is look back with gratitude. That little girl from Badagry is now a force to reckon with. I have clients coming from all over the world to make their hair at my salon. My life is proof that hard work and perseverance pay.

Today, I received a message from my father thanking me for the upkeep I sent him. All my siblings are doing well but none of them keeps in touch with him. I still take care of him and I don’t even know why.

Do I like him? No.
Have I forgiven him? No.
Yet, for some reason, I still take care of him.

This is my story and I hope it encourages someone. It is still early in the year. You can still make that dream a reality. Don’t procrastinate. Just move even if you have to crawl. Your past does not have to determine your future.