Society: Your Environment Affects You

I grew up in Lagos, I always consoled myself that my street was better than Ajegunle. Actually, it is.
I grew up in the ghetto. I ain't from a rich family,twenty something years ago, it was one of the most beautiful places in
Lagos, my compound was neat and had flowers all over, but as years passed, things changed.
The once tarred road changed to the most dreaded road like the road at Aba (if you have been to Aba, you will understand ).
There in the ghetto, I saw things but I wasn't allowed to say them. I could only see these things and imagine them.
Now I can write them.
I saw fathers sleep with their daughters because they were obsessed with their daughters and got jealous at the thought
of seeing a male with their daughters.
I saw wives sleep with other men to provide for the family and also make it seem their husbands are responsible.
I saw kids that were neglected by their parents join bad gangs.
I saw boys as young as 10years old smoking indian hemps, "igbo" , drawing tattoos, doing charms.
I saw girls as young as 9 sleeping with boys.
I saw maids sexually abuse the kids they are to take care of.
I saw fake pastors sleep with most of these maids while their wives are in church fasting and praying.
I saw people get killed by juju.
There was a tree back then that was owned by an old woman that was almost 100years old.
Rumor had it that, the tree was her life and anyone that made any attempt to cut the tree would die.
I've heard how men died just by using cutlass on the tree.
The reason why cutting off the tree was important was because, it was said that, the tree hindered electric light, which was true.
Very true.
So one day, a baba was invited from Ibadan, he had charms all over his body ( the way it is in Yoruba "mofies" )
When he came, everyone gathered expecting him to die like the others that have tried.
He recited some very strong incantations (I love hearing it )
He would say some words, and then laugh, and turn round.
Then he would act like he was running away, then go back to the same spot that he was.
The old woman came out from her house in slow motion, just as it's shown in movies. She also said some incantations and
after the display, He took his cutlass and stabbed the tree and this old woman died.
Everyone ran for their lives.
After Sanni Abacha, the old woman was the next person I saw people celebrate over her death.
I saw young girls derive joy in getting pregnant. It was fun to them, kinda like an achievement. And after they got pregnant
they are seen on bum shorts. Crazy street I lived in.
Young boys that fought with bottles and knives or rape girls like it's no man's business.
Maybe there were worse places than the place I grew up, maybe.
But I survived all that.
So, when I'm asked about my childhood and I say it, no one believes.
They expect I live in GRA, rich home, plenty cars and the likes.
Well, not true.
So here I am in Mars, thinking how I got to planet Earth and found myself in that ghetto.
The street I lived in motivates me, it pushes me to succeed, when I think of what I saw and how lucky I am to have escaped it, I'm thankful and forced to succeed.
Sometimes, the street/environment moulds us in a good or bad way.
For one year now, I've been in a public compound. It reminds me of my days in Lagos, this is different but they get me
inspired.
I see people do things and I remind myself why I shouldn't do the things they do.
I just felt like writing this, as this might inspire someone out there

The environment you grew up in affects you.
Check yourself.

Salute!