Of Stories, Dreams and Faith.

And again, during these perilous times I return to my first love, I rest in her bosom. I don’t know if she is saying welcome or not but whatever it is she is saying, I have no choice but to come back home.

There are days I feel like I have failed then there are days I remember the journey I have taken to get here and I stand up because for some reason I know the story cannot end here.

I have seen the entire trajectory of my life as an ongoing story, that is why when my cousin tried to rape me when I was Six, I dismissed it as a story.

The story started before I was born, it started with the union of two unlikely individuals who learned to love each other. The story then moved on to the different personalities that were born before me.

Then I came along, with the name that I have always searched for its true meaning. There are days I hate the burden of the story, there are days I sincerely want the story to end it, but this story, the story my life must tell is a task I must achieve before I leave earth.

I remember that a famous man once said that the story might not make sense looking forward, but they will make sense looking backward. I have realized that this is true with almost everything in our lives.

With the disappointments and sadness that comes with these feelings, the show must go on. When I was teenager, my dream was to see the world, fall in love and have children who would look exactly like me.

These were dreams that even I didn’t think it will ever become a reality because the realities of my beginnings left no space for exploration or love. It left space for not dreaming too much because there was no means for you to achieve those dreams.

I was never in tune with that reality, I always wished for more. I did fall in love but it was someone who didn’t love me back. I did travel but so far, it’s just within Nigeria and I don’t have children yet.

Although I have nieces that when I look into their eyes, I know that for some reason their lives will be better than mine and they will never be afraid to dream dreams and achieve them.

When I was sixteen, a church gave me gift, it was a black KJV bible and around that time, I wrote three words on piece of paper.

That piece of paper has been in that bible since then. The words were Billionaire, Philanthropist and Great.

Seven years later, today as I write this I am penniless, I still give when I can but you really can’t give what you don’t have and I don’t even know if great cuts it.

But somewhere in my mind I know that dreams don’t die, they live, they grow, they blossom. So I will keep dreaming and living the story because these stories are the reason for our existence.

These stories as told by the lives of billions of individuals all over the earth is the beauty of the world.

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