LIFE AS AN AFRICAN CHILD

Sometimes I sit in the dark and begin to think how cruel or good life is, does life choose to give to us what we bargained for or it just dishes out to us whatever it feels base on sentiments, favoritism, grace or color.

As an African child reading and watching happenings in developed countries, I sometimes feel I’ve been robbed of the good things of life more especially when you’re born from an average or less privileged family.

The fun I should have enjoyed, the places I should have visited on vacations just like other children, the toys I should have played with, and the adventure other kids enjoyed was not there for me.

So I sat in my dark room with no electricity and think all night what exactly life is but before dawn, I finally find solace.

Solace in the loving and caring parents that brought me up to be who I am today.

Solace in realizing that maybe some time in history, these kids I admire wished just like me to have a better life.

Solace that I can also make my unborn children enjoys what I didn’t enjoy.

So I said to myself, I am proud to be an African and a Nigerian, and if there is anything like afterlife I will still choose to be born in the same continent, same country, and same family.

Be proud of who you are.