Capítulo 1: Chapter One
Chapter 1
Becoming a journalist was never part of my plans, dreams, or budget. But here I am today, a certified journalist. Surprised? You shouldn't be; the country had other plans for me.
Originally, I wanted to pursue accounting, which I felt was my true calling. I had always dreamed of studying accounting, especially after all the struggles and hardships I endured in school. From basic education to higher institution, my goal was to feel real money in my hands, whether it was mine or not—at least before it went into the ATM. I wanted to experience the texture of a millionaire's money.
However, when you get a revelation about something in the spiritual realm, never conclude it in the physical world. Why is Dua Lipa's song "Physical" playing in my head right now? Anyway, moving on.
In my dreams, I counted and touched money as an accountant. But was it real? Was it meant to happen? I often feel like everything in my life ends up falling apart, including my dream of becoming an accountant. This crazy country never approved my chosen career.
After burning midnight oil, earning five credits in WAEC, passing NECO, and scoring 278 in JAMB after two sittings to meet the cut-off mark, I finally got admission to Obafemi Awolowo University (OAU).
Let me catch my breath. Whew!
Despite not being an indigene of Osun State, Ile-Ife, I was given "Information Science and Media Studies" instead of accounting. Ridiculous, right?
After waiting at home for two years for my dream course, I had no choice but to move from Ado-Ekiti to Osun. University life was a mix of sweet, sour, and bitter experiences due to the time, expenses, and experiences involved.
My dad, unable to handle family responsibilities, left us for an Edo woman who had returned from Italy, leaving my younger brother, Nifemi, and me with our mother, Mrs. Omolara Ademola. While dad and his new family live happily in Verona, Italy, we have faced hardship here in Nigeria. He hasn't contacted us for ten to fourteen years, completely forgetting about us.
Mom has been our rock ever since he walked out the door. The day I signed out of school, I received a call from Nifemi saying that the "Akande" market, where mom sold vegetables and tomatoes, had been destroyed by a fire. Lives were lost, and our only source of income was gone. It was a bittersweet day.
Mom was devastated. I thank God English was my last paper before graduation. After my exams, I didn't waste time before returning to Ado-Ekiti.
By God's grace, I completed my service and secured a good-paying job in a media company, handling journalism and newscasting, thanks to an old friend and close coursemate, Lola Oluwatobi. We became best friends during our National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) in Plateau, Jos, and now, we both work at the same company.
With this job, I managed to pay off mom's debts, cover our rent, pay Nifemi's school fees, and help mom start a new business. Now, she sells wrappers, laces, hollandaise, aso-oke, hi-target, and various clothing materials.
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