1/3 On the 26th of December, 2002, while preparing for a professional exam in my 4th year of medical school at the University of Calabar, I had a life changing accident. 

The day after Christmas, at about 4pm, I went visiting after reading at school. I took a bike and before I knew it, I was on the floor, in the middle of the road, on my back. I heard people saying, "It's Freky, it's Freky". A lot of students lived in that area. I was conscious all through and there was no physical injury, but I couldn’t feel my legs. I was even thinking maybe a car had crushed them. The bike man was unconscious and bleeding. The truth is, I don't know what happened. I don't know if we were hit or anything. Till today, nobody has been able to tell me what happened. 

The Teaching Hospital and General Hospital were both on strike. I ended up going to my school’s medical centre. Word got to my parents, and they came to Calabar. I was transferred on a stretcher in an ambulance to Port Harcourt. Then a helicopter was used to get me to a hospital in Lagos where I stayed from December to February, bed-bound and flat on my back. 

A CT scan was done, and the result was bad. The doctor advised that I leave the country to perform the necessary surgery, rather than him trying it. This is a well-known doctor who was very good in his field. That’s when it occurred to me that it was very bad. 

I was able to travel on a stretcher to Israel but it wasn’t cheap. The doctor told me immediately it happened, I was meant to be taken straight into surgery. I told him I understood what he was saying, but I come from Nigeria and things don't work that way. He told us after he had seen my CT scans that the most they would be able to do is make me sit again, but I wouldn’t be able to walk.

The first surgery lasted for 7 hours. I was told I had a burst fracture of my spine (my back shattered), so they had to do a lumber fusion so I could begin to learn how to sit. There was still a lot of pain before, during and after the surgery, so I had to go for another one. They put rods and screws in my back.

2/3 I remember the first day I sat. After 5 minutes, I wanted to faint. I had to start learning how to sit again. The process wasn’t easy. I was in Israel for a while, but came back to Nigeria to do my rehabilitation which was a big mistake.

When I came back to Nigeria, reality set in. We had no facilities whatsoever and the so-called rehabilitation centre was Igbobi Hospital which is an orthopaedic hospital. My case was not a purely orthopaedic case but a neurological one. I had to go online to find out how life would be with SCI (Spinal Cord Injury).  I did a lot of research and began self-rehabilitation and a journey to an independent life by all means.

I began to have complications. I started having sores on my back and other places. It got so bad that my bones were almost showing. So, I had to find a way to do surgery to get my major sores out of the way. I battled with this for over a year, so I travelled to South Africa to do the surgery. 

I came back and wanted to continue medical school. My friend Roby had helped me defer my admission. When I went back to school, I was told I couldn’t continue with Medicine and Surgery because they didn't have the facilities for me to continue. I was very sad because I didn't think anybody would stop me from continuing school because of what happened to me. 

 

In 2007, I did an inter-university transfer into the University of Port Harcourt to study ‘Human Physiology’. It wasn’t easy, but I graduated with a second class upper. I didn't stop there, I also did my masters in Physiology. 

Before I finished my first degree, I started to volunteer with an organisation. Then I became an intern before I started working with them. I found expression in volunteering in the non-profit sector.

3/3 In 2013, I started an Organisation called Faecare Foundation, where we reach out to vulnerable groups in communities; orphans and vulnerable children, persons with disability and youths. We also have children under our free education program. We have programs and projects in Rivers and Akwa Ibom States, where we do vocational skills training and mentoring. I also do speaking and some coaching. 

In 2014, I applied for the Mandela Washington Fellowship (MWF); President Barack Obama's Young African Leadership Initiative Program. I was one of the people selected from Nigeria to attend the program at the University of Delaware in the United States of America. I met with President Barack Obama and the icing on the cake for me was when about 40 of us were able to meet Michelle Obama in a closed meeting. For me, that was a lot of validation that I wasn't wasting my time.

God continues to make life meaningful, because it's one thing to overcome challenges for yourself, it’s another thing for somebody to be able to draw strength from that and make meaning of their life. 

Irrespective of what you are going through, your response to that event/experience is what will determine your outcome. I really want to encourage someone. It's not easy o. Every day is a new challenge, but continue to look up to Jesus and you will see the problem less because God will be magnified. Wheel Chair or not, I intend to fulfil my purpose and destiny as God gives me the grace.

I was dating someone I thought I would marry and desperately wanted to. Everything was perfect, my life was perfect and then I left a job I had just started 2 months before then, I lost the guy. He just woke up one day and said he couldn't do the “sickle cell thing” anymore. I felt totally lost and my world came crashing down because my life was more about the relationship than anything else. I was crying all the time and was depressed. Sickle cell had taken so much from me already and I desperately wanted to end my life.

I started a blog with a friend who also has sickle cell, because it was therapeutic. I started writing my story then realised I had been blessed beyond measure, in spite of everything. For instance, the strength I have is amazing. I have so much love around me and my CV is packed with 10 years of amazing working experience.

As time went on, things began to evolve and I wanted to do more for the sickle cell community. I began to hear stories and people began to reach out to our blog. So here I was. Yes, I was dumped because of sickle cell, but I was living a relatively healthy life because I had found what worked for me and wanted to share that with people.

Our blog evolved into a registered NGO last year called CrimsonBow Sickle Cell Initiative. As soon as I started the NGO, things started falling into place. I can now proudly say I'm a farmer and have other businesses. How I manage a 9-5 with all these other things is really God. (I have a job too.)

This year, we’ll organise a ‘Run, Walk, Cycle for Sickle Cell Warrior’ event. It’s a fundraiser that will sponsor project ‘Medicate a Warrior’. We intend to give a month’s supply of drugs to those with sickle cell anaemia. In April, we will begin ‘Project Keep a Warrior Warm’, where we'll go to schools, perform genotype tests for students and educate them about sickle cell prevention. We will give the sickle cell students sweaters, blankets and medication. Then, we’ll hold an empowerment program called ‘Empower a Warrior’. 

The next few months will be busy but blessed. 

In October while I was taking a nap in the office, I had a seizure in my sleep. I was rushed to a nearby hospital, but when the hospital staff couldn't manage me, my folks were called and I was taken to the family hospital. At the hospital, I was informed that I needed to do an MRI. I did that and the result showed that there was a tumour on the covering of my brain.

A neurosurgeon was invited to the hospital and he said we had two weeks’ maximum to take out the tumour. I never thought this sort of thing would ever happen to me. In fact, nobody ever imagines this kind of stuff happening to them.

After I had the surgery, I was discharged but I started reacting to the drugs. It was an Adverse Drug Reaction (ADR). In fact, it seemed worse than the surgery. Rashes spread all over my body. My tongue, mouth and genitals were not spared but the Almighty had his finger on me.

I am well now and it doesn't even feel like I experienced all these in the last couple of months. It still amazes me how quick my recovery was.

I appreciate everyone who stood by me through the entire experience - family members, friends and colleagues at work. I just stand in awe of God. A thousand tongues are not enough to say thank you to him.

2/2 I never share this part of me because one time, the burden seemed to overwhelm me and I tried to confide in someone really close. I was called a liar with too much imagination. I just shut down. But last night, on a radio show in which I was speaking on the impact of divorce on children, I realized that I've been selfish. People need to know. Not because of me but because there are people that need healing and perhaps, from me they will know they can turn out okay.

How does this affect my ability to be a father? Well, for one, I overcompensate. I remember my son was naughty one time and I smacked him. I saw the pain in his eyes, a familiar look I couldn't bear. I've not been able to smack him again because the look of pain reminded me of me.

It's been over 30 years since my parents got separated and as much as I understand I was never the target for their pain, anguish, hate, trauma and tears, it didn't stop me from being the victim. As the only child of the marriage, I was the "consequence" without which they would probably have healed faster. We all have different thresholds for pain. Mine isn't very high.

Was there an option to my parents' separation? I doubt it and I remember thinking, when I was younger, that they even stayed together too long. Folks, please do not marry for the wrong reasons. I know society wants you to get married, but trust me, society didn't help my parents stay together.

Our society doesn't support people like me. Soon, we may have a nation of broken people doing nothing but raising broken people who will break those that aren't broken.

Does all if this make me less Christian? Less a lover of God? Does being a child of God "automatically" heal me? For some, yes. For me, no. But being a child of God gives me strength such that you'd read this and say, "Wow, I never knew". Being a child of God means I can look beyond my pain and help you bear yours...if I can....if you'd let me.

Being a child of God allows me to free my parents. It allows me to free society. It allows me to free the child in me so he can rest. So he can heal. So that I too can be free.

1/2 I was on radio recently to talk about the effect of divorce on kids. I was back to being the little boy I have ignored for 30 years. I've been mean to him. Left him alone. So now, I reach out to him.....for my own good.

My parents' divorce meant I spent weekends with one parent and weekdays with another. On a few occasions, I was sent away in the middle of the night, on a weekend. One time I had just N1.50K. I took a Molue from Lawanson to Race Course. The 50 Kobo I had left couldn't get me farther than Bonny Camp and so, at just before 1am this 12 year old boy walked to 1004. I locked myself in my room for 2 days and in her attempt not to cause me more pain, my mum let me be.

On my 18th birthday, there was a huge party thrown and a cow killed. The truth was that the celebration of my 18th was the fact that at that age, I was a full fledged adult who needed no support or alimony payment. At 18, I was legally, no one's responsibility. At 18, the "consequence" of a failed marriage had been neutralized.

Did that affect my self confidence? In school and in relationships; did that knowledge mould me? Did it make me suspicious of anyone trying to get close? Did it make me walk away when I shouldn't? Did it make me struggle more than necessary not to be totally dysfunctional? Yes. For example, until I got married, I couldn't stand to look into a full length mirror, but that's a story for another time.

I wrote memoirs once. I was 19 or 20 and I hid them for years but one day my mother found them. I've never felt so guilty. For me, the pain of growing up with divorced parents was mine alone to bear and I bore it gladly. Well, until I realized that the more I bear it, the more accustomed to it I become and the more accustomed I become, the more it becomes a habit. It becomes me.

I am familiar with pain. I am comfortable with pain. I am pain. And somewhere inside me, there's this longing for familiar territory. When I give, I can so easily give pain. It's natural. It's not meant to hurt, it's just what I knew. Thank God I now know better.

My story is a weird one. I used to play with my younger ones when we were much younger. While they were sleeping, I would play with them in a bad way, touch them and they wouldn’t know. They were ages 6 and 8, I was 10 years old at the time. This lasted for a while, till I stopped.

I really can’t explain how I stopped or what even led me to it in the first place. One thing I thank God for is that my siblings don’t remember all this. Or maybe they do, but they don’t talk about it. We are all so close and we talk about everything and this has never come up, that’s why I want to believe they don’t remember.

Truth is I haven’t found the courage to talk about this publicly because it’s shameful. This has been a secret I have kept for a very long time. It’s been between me and God. Every time I think about it, it just baffles me. Sometimes I laugh when I remember, but then again, I know how sexually immoral that was now. But I know I’m not that person anymore. God has forgiven me and I’ve forgiven myself.

Growing up, people would taunt me and call me names like ‘Tinrin gbeku’ which means ‘skinny as hell’ in Yoruba. Any slight disagreement and people would say horrible stuff to me because of the way I looked. It was sinking into my psyche and killing my self-esteem.

I became really shy and felt I wasn't good enough. I felt out of place everywhere I went to. I would use the fact that I was very brilliant in class to cover up my low self-esteem but I didn't really associate with people that much. I had just a few friends in class.

Everything began to change in University. I was very active in church and felt better because there was nobody labeling me or saying horrible things. I also felt accepted. I joined the choir and people would appreciate and compliment me because of my voice. I started to improve on my music and I got really good at it.

My defining moment was when a first timer at our church walked up to me and said I sang really well and she was blessed (by my ministration). Because of that, I knew there was something about me that I could offer and it transcended my physical looks. I concluded that anyone who couldn’t see what I had inside and shunned me because of the way I looked was shallow.

I didn't have any dramatic or huge encounter that transformed me. It was more of a subtle process. I started expressing myself more. I became livelier and started having friends, although I was still cautious. I started being more outspoken around people.

In my final year in school, I even ran for the post of financial secretary of my department and won. This brought me to the spotlight. It was actually up to me to make sure that I didn’t let my esteem hold me down or stop me from achieving the dreams I had.

There was one scripture that helped, Proverbs 31:30 which says “Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.” This scripture helped me even as a man. You don't judge people based on their physical looks but their content and that was what I started living by. If you think my physical appearance isn’t good enough for you, then there’s no point hanging out with you.

I was 5 years old when my neighbour started to abuse me. I didn't know what he was doing was wrong. I just knew it was a secret. He exposed me to pornography too. He would give me pornographic magazines which I had to study and read and then he would make me do the things I saw in the magazines to him. So, I started learning everything about sex and seduction from the age of 5. This lasted for the 5 years I lived in that compound.

I also realised late in secondary school and my early university days that I had alter egos. I would switch personalities. I could be myself today, then tomorrow, another person. Some of my personalities were very confident, other personalities were very vengeful, while others were seductive in nature. When men started to approach me as a lady, I could switch character just to be with whoever it was. So of course, sex wasn't an issue for me because all I needed to do was switch characters and become 'Posh Spice'.

Sometime in the year 2009, robbers came to rob my family at home and I was raped by 2 of them.

I moved to Lagos in 2010, the following year. I saw people live life; I saw people thriving, but there was no capacity inside of me to be like them because I had so much bitterness, hatred, and unforgiveness. I knew that I needed to go back to God. 

I rededicated my life to Christ and I also got myself mentors (my pastor and his wife). I ensured that I was a 100% accountable to them. I can never tell my life’s story without including them. Everything I am today is possible only because they allowed God to use them. It was as if I was born afresh. They literally helped me to renew my mind. I then began to see traces of the strength that I had. 

I also did something about my situation after praying. I had to go for therapy sessions. I always tell people, prayer does not wipe away rape and abuse. It gives you the strength and the tenacity to deal with it but there are psychological effects that you need to deal with. Nigerians have to get to a point where they visit psychologists. They are trained for this purpose. Visit a therapist. They will help you to work on your mind. Prayer will open your heart and it will give you strength & grit to handle things.  

“We are so sorry, but you cease to be a student of this school.”

I got kicked out of school in my 2nd year of university. How did this happen?

I studied Business at an Ivy League university in Canada. My first year was really good, after which things just spiralled downward. My grades became super bad. I was distracted with some things and was doing really poorly. 

Before I got kicked out, I was on probation and didn't tell anyone at home because I was really scared. Instead of telling people, I tried to work really hard. I found tutors, I prayed, I studied and I had so much faith. 

I checked my grades and they were bad. I felt like the ground should swallow me. How was I going to break this news to my parents in Nigeria who had been sending me thousands of dollars? I just literally wasted all their money. I was super sad and it was just so shameful. How would I tell people I was kicked out of school? My mum flew over to meet me and I prayed to God to help her understand. For some weird reason, she was sympathising with me, trying to find a plan B. 

After 2 days, I just started really praising God and dancing. I felt relieved and it felt stupid. You're kicked out of school, you don't know what's next, but yet you're praising God? I started looking for film schools. (Storytelling and 3D Animation have always been my passion). If the blessings of God make rich and add no sorrow, I knew God was going to make it easy for me.

I was going to go to Hollywood for my masters after my first degree in Business, but through this failure, God technically pushed me 3 years forward into my desired industry.

3 months later, I got admitted into a film school in Los Angeles and I started slowly finding my purpose. I graduated with a 1st class degree. If I had stayed in my previous school, studying business, I don't think I'd have graduated with any class at all. And it was as if God just turned around my shame. 

Now I'm done with school, I have short films, music videos and have worked with people I never dreamt I’d work with, this early in my career. So overall, God has been good and I think it was all intentional. 

(Part 1/3) Growing up, I never fancied Nollywood movies; the stories were too calculated and every action was predictable. What I disliked most about them were the dramatic scenes of suffering, in which misery was portrayed so tragically. The cinematic sadness resembled no reality I had ever known. Maybe I should have paid more attention. Little did I know that someday, I would become a major character in a series of real-life tragic events.

At the time, my family was God’s greatest gift to me. The privilege of having a strict dad monitor me was tiresome but rewarding. The joy of having a best friend in my mum was so reassuring and, of course, having three loving brothers who treasured me was the icing on the cake that just made my life complete. Nothing was missing.

But things took a turn when my dad fell ill. Though innocuous enough in the beginning, his condition soon worsened. The doctors diagnosed cancer. My father’s health deteriorated. Before our very eyes, he slowly ebbed away like a melting candle. So did our savings – the more we spent to save his life, the more of a skeleton he became.

When he gave up, all four of us kids were still in school, and mum worked so hard to keep up our livelihood, even though we were now left with nothing. She did her best, but this test was backbreaking. And just like a twig snaps at the force of the wind, mum also snapped under the pressures of life.

It was the worst scenario ever, when my best friend and mother slumped and died at work. “No! Never! Give me the keys! Let me have them!” I screamed at the mortuary attendant. What was I to do? Allow my mum stay in the mortuary? Never! I prayed, screamed and tugged at her lifeless body but she couldn’t hear me…she was gone, and she took a huge part of me with her.

The harsh realities of life began to set in. With Mum’s body yet to be buried, Dad’s family insisted that the house left us by our parents was not really ours, and kicked my brothers and I out into the streets. The church came to our aid with shelter over our head and a rented apartment. Soon hunger became a regular companion, and sorrow, pains and uncertainty filled our lives like toxic gas!

(Part 2/3) We needed each other more than ever at this point, but how mature were we? The loss of both parents and the harsh realities of life had separated us, transformed us. My once bright and lovely brothers became moody and bitter. As the only girl, I tried to step into mum’s shoes, but they were way too big for me. In my quest to establish order among us, serious fights ensued which soon metamorphosed into bloody combat. Fed up with the situation, I took to my heels. I knew life had more to offer. Of course, I had nowhere to go, but I couldn’t stay and suffer this pain any longer.

Confused, broken and alone, I roamed from home to home and began to contemplate suicide after a string of disappointments. And then, one day, a friend of a friend, an angel among men, took pity on me, and she gave me a home and a family that shared what little they had with me and gave me care, for the first time in a long time.

New home, new folks, and a new circle of support, but in the midst of all the newness, I still recalled where I came from and longed so much to bring change to what was left of my family. I had options. Yes, many young folks I think, may not have gone through half of the pain that has steamed through my life, before they decided to use their bodies as just another commodity to be bargained over and sold on the open market. So maybe the pain would have been a sensible “justification” to take any route I chose, after all life was not fair to me. But I knew better and sought to develop myself. I decided to go to something within me – my creativity, which has been a part of my existence right from a young age.

(Part 3/3) I took to creative writing and surfing the net to learn the many things I didn’t know. When I felt ready, I launched out into the hustling and bustling streets of Lagos with my CV, searching for a job and a meaning to my life. The outlook was bleak – sometimes, I had to even do “corporate begging” to raise transportation fare. I pressed on, because I was desperate. There were days I missed my family badly, worried sick about my brothers’ survival. At night, I cried myself to sleep, feeling hopeless after being drenched by the no-nonsense rains of Lagos and scorched by the sun all in a bid to get a job.

When an opportunity presented itself, I grabbed it with both hands and legs. I sent my CV to a firm that wanted a script writer and content officer for their online platforms. I attached my creative write ups and God having it, the creativity was the cutting edge that secured the job. My career path has since evolved towards professionalism, and with money coming in, I quickly dived at the opportunity to become a source of blessing to my lovely boys back at home, to my foster family who took me as their own, and to other peeps who needed some form of assistance. The river of love that made me who I am is now flowing through me to touch others.

I am still healing, but I am whole enough to present my life as a healing balm to all who are in pain by telling them my story. I looked beyond myself, looking unto the hills and held unto the power beyond my power to see me through.

I have come to learn that there really is no person without problems, but there are only persons who choose to be smarter than the circumstances thrown at them.

“Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you and you will honour me.” To think that God will not only deliver, but also give us a chance to have the joy of honouring him in the midst of our troubles, I believe, is a gift, and I am humbled to share my story to encourage readers and honour my Creator.

(Part 1/2) Growing up with sickle cell anaemia was stressful. Sometimes I had to be out of school and in hospital. I wasn't allowed to eat certain things or do some things like play when other kids were playing, especially in the rain.

When I got into University, it was fun. I had happy-go-lucky friends. I was a Christian even though I was brought up in a Muslim home. I had been going to church with my neighbour since my childhood, so I'd never really practised Islam. 

I remember towards the end of my 200 level, I started feeling pain in my right hip. Before then I had a fall, so I felt I was having the pain because of the fall. I just kept hoping it would go but it didn't and it got worse. After the 5th month, I had to go to Lagos State General Hospital in Gbagada to see a doctor. I did an X-ray and some other things and the doctor said I had a condition called avascular necrosis and it would go eventually. He said they would put me on 3 months’ bed rest and that I had to take the stress off the hip so it could heal. I was given crutches and was so upset about it. I felt all my crushes in school wouldn't toast me again (just kidding, *laughs*). 

So, in my 300 level I started using crutches for a few months hoping my hip would heal. It did get better but it didn't heal completely. I eventually dumped the crutches and started to limp. So, at school people referred to me as the girl that limped. 

I graduated still limping. I did my NYSC limping and I even started work limping. I am a fashion designer and I would go to Yaba to get materials even with my bad leg, but I didn’t mind because I loved my work. Sadly, I couldn’t stay too long on a sewing machine because of my hip, so it kind of affected me as a fashion designer. 

(Part 2/2) By the end of 2014, the pain got worse though I was put on some strong drugs which I'd been using for 4 years. How my kidneys and liver are still functioning properly, I believe, is a miracle. At some point the doctors had to beg me to stop using the drugs, but because I was already addicted to them and couldn't function well without taking them, I didn’t stop.

There was this day I was in serious pain. I had mood swings, and was basically going crazy. So, my sister went online to check for solutions to my predicament. She stumbled on Dr Akinyanju of Sickle Cell Foundation, Idi Araba, Lagos. She mailed them and we were given an appointment.

We met with one of the counsellors and she said it was not an issue. Imagine for my twenty something years of being a sickler, I didn't know what I had was something sicklers have. Nobody told me that. The doctor said all I needed was a hip replacement. They would remove the bad hip and replace it with an artificial one. I was referred to Igbobi Orthopaedic Hospital. The bill was well over a million naira. We wondered where we would get the money from. Somehow, the money was raised and I was able to do the operation in March 2015. It took me about 6 months to heal. I couldn't do anything within the 6 months. 

Let me just say that every step of the way I had to fight, even while I was in the ICU after my surgery. 

I felt I was sick till I met someone in the ICU who had a worse condition. She was on oxygen and even in my state of not being able to do anything by myself, I was still praying for this lady. That alone was a defining moment for me. You think your life is upside down, or you've been through so many things, till you meet someone who has been through worse. It just makes you thank God despite what you’re going through. We lost the lady in the end.

I know that each step of my life since I was born till now, has a purpose. 

Today, though I still have sickle cell anaemia, I haven’t been sick since December 2015. I'm a fashion designer and also engaged to a lovely man.

(Part 1/2) The idea of going to that office was simply me trying not to be disrespectful to my cousin, Chinelo Ndigwe. In a bid to console me for not getting a visa to film with her in the U.K, she asked me to attend an Emem Isong audition that she saw on Facebook. Remembering I had met Emem a year earlier and had her card, I made a call and got an invite to privately audition since I had missed the general one.

Walking into Emem Isong’s office was basically the first time I had ever auditioned in my life. Sitting on that chair right across her, it was definitely the Holy Spirit that caused what happened that day. She gave me a side with two characters and told me to play one and she'd play the other person. I honestly didn't know which to play so I asked if I could play the two characters and she said yes. I didn't know what an audition was so this was not me trying to impress. I was just a confused 18-year-old who didn't know which character to choose. When I finished, I guess she was blown away. She called three other people to watch me while I redid it and they were all impressed.

Emem Isong said to me, "I see you going very far in this business. I see you getting as big as the Genevieves and Ini Edos of our time because you're pretty, you speak very well, you sound intelligent and most of all you can act." Those were the 4 things she told me that formed the basis of me having the courage to pursue the career that I'm in today. 

(Part 2/2) I have met some horrible people, and some good ones at auditons. I remember meeting a producer/director who told me to remove my clothes so they could see if my breasts were perky enough and if my body was shapely enough for the camera. But, my thoughts kept going back to the words of Emem Isong and the fact that she didn’t say I needed to have those things to succeed. So, I walked out of that office and many others. 

Now imagine if when I started out, the first person I met told me the things I needed to have to succeed in the industry was, “Your body needs to be standing" or "I have to see your body to make sure it's well augmented for pictures". I probably would have played along on my first day.  But I thank God. My prayers were not in vain; prayers to love myself and to accept myself. God put the right people around me who made me understand who I was and what I had in me before I started meeting all the bad and ugly ones. 

That's how I started acting. I still met so many other people that hit on me or asked for the wrong things. I recall an encounter with a colleague who almost raped me on set at night when everyone else was sleeping. I went through a whole lot, but one thing that this journey has made me realise is who I am. I am ‘Worthy’, ‘Good Enough’ and ‘Valid’.

(Part 1/2) Growing up was quite interesting. I grew up in a family of 6; 2 boys, 2 girls and my parents. I'm the last child. I went to nursery and primary school in Ibadan. Then I went to secondary school (Loyola) for a term after which I left for London to complete my secondary school education. My siblings were already in London at the time. 

When I got there, I made crazy and bad friends, so I got into a lot of stuff. By the time I was going to my year 2 in secondary school I was already in gangs and telling people where they could get cocaine and stuff like that. It got really bad. By my year 3, I could have people beaten up. My brother was the best student of the school and he didn't have a clue about what was going on. He didn't have an idea of how bad I had gotten.

One day, an incident happened. I beat up a Pakistani boy who happened to be the son of the Mayor of our area and I didn't know. I was in year 3 going to year 4 to start exams for the last year. 

The police just showed up at our door and everyone was wondering who they were looking for. They came fully loaded as if they were coming to arrest a terrorist. My brother was so shocked. Thanks to God I wasn't an illegal immigrant or anything. We went to the police station and there was plenty drama. When we got out of the station my siblings called my parents. My parents said I probably needed a vacation. So, they allowed the wind to blow over the situation and after a few months, they said I should come for holiday in Nigeria since I hadn’t been home in like 5 years.

They hooked me up to a holiday to Paris, then about 2 other places before I came to Nigeria. The holiday in Nigeria lasted 19 years *laughs*. I got home and that was it. They said they were not sending me back to London. I still ended up with a lot of bad gangs. I started drinking and smoking. I lived in Ibadan but almost every Friday night I would come to Fela's shrine in Lagos, and do all sorts of stuff. But in the midst of all that, God kept me.

(Part 2/2) Somehow, I ended up in Prophet S.K Abiara's house. He said something quite significant that I can't forget, and anytime I see him I always remind him about it. He said there will come a day when he will invite me to come to sing in his church and I won't be able to come because I'd be too busy. I won't be busy doing any other thing but God’s work. I just said, "Wow, okay, so I'll actually become a serious born again Christian?" But he was sure that the future he saw was the future of someone who would have positive influence over his environment and his generation. But it didn't look like that at all.

Somehow, I ended up with Bishop Wale Oke.  My mum knew I liked the way he talked and so she took me to see him. I was led to Christ and became born again there. But I didn't lose all my habits. Yes, I loved God and I gave my life to Jesus, but I still had some habits to deal with. 

My turning point really came when I was schooling in Ilorin Polytechnic. I met Pastor Sam Ore at a Redeemed church in Ilorin where I became a worker. He was the one who settled down to fan me into shape. I would lead praise and worship in church and still go and drink my Star (beer), but after like 6 months with him I just stopped. Nobody told me to stop drinking or smoking, I just stopped. I started to love Jesus more, and the journey started from there. I haven't taken a beer since 1996 and any smell of cigarette irritates me now. 

God has been kind with the music. It's all I do basically. Some people wonder why I put so much energy into doing the music brand or doing the entertainment brand or ministry brand. But I learnt from some of my mentors like Wale Adenuga and Muyiwa my elder brother that even though you'll have other streams of income, make sure there is one brand that is strong enough to control other streams of income. I do gospel music and I have a feeling if I do anything not gospel, I won't stay true to the nature of Jesus. I'm married to one wife and we've been married for 11 years now. I have 2 kids, a girl and a boy. 

We both made up our minds before we met to wait to have sex until we each got married. We had the discussion when we started dating, but had our individual principles before we met. We avoided experimenting, trying this & that or going halfway. Because we had purity in mind, it became our focus during the 4 years of our relationship. 

We had fun as opposed to what people say that when you have a relationship without sex, it will be dry. And it wasn't all just prayer, bible etc., the way some people make it look.

We didn't see too often though, because I was in school. And when we did see, it was in public places - the movies, mall, my parents', his parents' etc. This went on till I finished school and moved to Lagos. 

The temptation became more intense when we were planning our wedding. When you're getting married soon, there's a temptation to let down your guard, just a bit. And I was now in Lagos, so we were seeing more often. The most important thing we had to deal with was our minds. Whether we were getting married or not, we had to remember that we both decided to wait. That helped us a lot. We didn't leave a lot of gap between our introduction and wedding. I think that's a major distraction that happens to people. You do introduction and 8 months or one year later, you do the wedding, and in that space you already start feeling like husband and wife. You start setting up house, spending weekends, and so on, then all sorts of things happen. 

Before the wedding night, we were agitated, worried and anxious. But, we had marital counselling in church and that really helped us. We read a couple of books together. Will I say the first night was wonderful? (laughs). Maybe not, but after like a week after, it became worth waiting for. I can say it has been bliss because daily, we open our minds to how we can satisfy each other better. 

So far, it's been 4 years of major fun, bliss, and beauty. I can candidly say it was worth the wait. 

(Part 1/2) As a teenager until my early twenties, I never liked my stature. I thought I was too thin, with little or no bum. I admired friends in school who were endowed. I wished I could be the same. Having gone to a private school where there were a lot of big girls, I was on my own. Nobody wanted to be my friend. I felt I could not join the social status some of the girls enjoyed. 

So one day, I decided to help myself. At least, if you don’t have it, pretend that you have it. That morning, before going for morning assembly, I decided to add additional clothes under my clothes to look bigger. I folded them neatly and put them inside my clothes. I felt good. Isn’t this the way every girl was supposed to look? Appealing? Attractive?

We finished the morning assembly and as I was about to walk to my class with two friends, I heard it, ‘paaaaapaappapapapappa’ - the fall of the clothes scattered all over my legs, one after the other! As I tried to hold the clothes, it was as if they were on riot. One after the other, they scattered and fell on my legs. Everything I had padded inside was now on the floor under the full glare of everyone! A few minutes ago, I was feeling good with myself, cat walking and deliberately trying to catch the eyes of those boys who used to ignore me (especially the one who made it known to me that I was ugly and that no boy would find me attractive). I was embarrassed and ashamed. Disgrace and sadness enveloped me instantly.

The two friends beside me, who had turned to check what had startled me burst into shock and disbelief. One of them said, ‘Omoby, did you actually put those inside your clothes? You are pathetic! You can never be fat o! You are just so stupid! Do you think you can have my kind of body?’

(Part 2/2) My friends mocked me for trying to look bigger than I was by padding my clothes. One picked up the fallen items I had used to pad myself and handed them back to me. She said, ‘Omoby, let’s go. Everyone is laughing and looking at you.’

I wanted to die and my eyes welled up with hot tears. I only wanted to look bigger. I just wanted to feel good. Why did this happen to me? Another friend walked beside me. Her arms on my shoulders were soft and warm. It gave me the necessary comfort as I walked past the assembly ground to my class.

For the next few weeks, I was the talk of school. Everybody made snide remarks about me. Most times, I consciously shut my mind to such remarks.

I look back now and realize that I was on a journey of self-discovery and self-exploration. It was not a journey I got through overnight. I came to the point where I realized that believing the worst about me was not helping me at all. I needed to do something about it. Days were passing by. I was getting older. I was wasting lots of time wishing I could change myself. I wasn’t going to live on earth forever and if I spent the best part of my youth wishing I were someone else, wishing I was bigger, what time would I have left to do the things God called me to do?

Gradually, I came to terms with my stature and accepted that I may never be fat in my life time *laughs*. This is because we haven’t got fat genes in my family. When people mock me or talk about my stature I just laugh it off and I say, "Thank you."  When I am told stories of people who monitor their eating habits, spend huge amounts in gyms and on teas trying to shed weight, I realize that being slim is actually my blessing. I have learnt over the years to love and accept myself, just the way I am.