My story isn’t one told with smiles nor laughter. Almost all through my young life i experienced one hardship to another, one bitter lesson to another and one painful event to another. But it never for once changed my personality nor stopped me from pursuing my target. I pray you read my story, learn from my mistakes and enjoy the flow of my narration.

Hmmmmm where do i start??. I guess i have to start from the beginning, the very beginning and all i write here is nothing but the truth.

I was born in a middle class family. My parents were successful traders and i was the eldest among my two siblings, {an annoying but jovial brother and a very quiet sister who was the last born}. We were all born and raised in Enugu state, south east Nigeria. A very happy family we were until the fateful day an evil shadow of death befell us. Yes it was in the month of march 2000. A very noisy sunday it was. Children played outside the compound, cars honked and polluted the streets. My siblings and I anxiously waited for our parents to return from the village they travelled to on friday morning.

Anxiously we waited. It really was the first time they travelled, leaving us behind.

“remember you are now the mother of the house, take care of your siblings” dad advised as they prepared to embark on the life changing journey,
“nne, the food i left in the fridge will be more than enough for you all. Make sure your siblings don’t go hungry, we will be back on sunday morning” Mum also advised while i nodded like an innocent girl i was. I only was thirteen years old, A Jss3 student.
Slowly the clock struck 6:30pm that fateful sunday evening. Mum and Dad were yet to return, i was very uneasy so were my siblings. Tears slowly filled their eyes, mine wasn’t left out.

By 7pm a sharp knock landed on our door. I quickly rushed and opened it, but was shocked to see Uncle Francis standing on the doorway, smiling nervously. I instantly knew something was wrong.

To be continued.

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