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 I called one of our relatives in Offa and updated her on what was happening to my mom. 3 days later, it seemed my mom was recovering gradually. I withdrew the last N5, 000 in my account and went to buy provisions and food stuffs. There was nothing much at home. At least, even if say person poor, that does not mean say we no go chop better food. A day before travelling back to Abeokuta, I went to the place I worked before leaving. My former Oga wey like me wella. He gave me N2,000. I told him I was going back to school. Some of my paddies still dash me small money. I calculated everything and it amounted to N3, 450. “Gbadebo! Gbadebo!!” my mom called. I was outside chatting with a friend when he called. I came into the room. “Gbadebo,” she said. “Ma,” I answered. She brought out some squeezed naira notes from the edge of her wrapper were she tied it. She handed them over to me. I counted them and It was N3, 500. “Kosi owo. Manage elei.” She said I should manage it that there was no money. Infact, she even tried. I couldn’t say anything. As I took the money, I went to bed to sleep, thinking of how my 4 year journey would look like in Funaab with my poverty condition. The next morning, I arranged my only travelling bag, which doubles as my school bag. I only had few clothes which I inserted into the bag, with the only foot wear I had, my pam slippers, na im I go wear go back. “I am going to school.” person wey see me go think say I dey joke. Na only 2 trousers and 5 shirts wey I get I put inside my bag. I didn’t have time to buy many things because I was saving to go to school. The only mobile phone we had, a small touchlight phone. I had to leave it with my mom. I told her I would be calling from a business center. It was better for me that way so I could be reaching out to her rather than me taking the phone to school. I looked my mom into the eye as I was about leaving for the park. She looked worried seeing me leave. “I guessed she was worried how I would cope.” I hugged her and left to the park where I would be boarding a car to Ibadan. As I entered one of the cars going to Ibadan, I wasn’t happy. My heart was filled with too many weird thoughts that I didn’t even know when the car got filled up, I paid and we left. On the road to Ibadan, “I thought about my life.” After paying for my transportation, I was only left with N4,450. We never get to Ibadan ooo. I have not even talked about my accommodation. Where will I even stay? How will I feed sef? And I go even pay transport go school. As all those thoughts were flipping through my mind, tears ran down my eyes. The woman sitting close to me was the one that even called my attention. She asked what was wrong with me that I shed tears. And we were sitting at the front seat opposite the driver. I had to bring out my handkerchief from my pocket and whipped my face. I don’t even know what to tell the woman. I wished she was Jesus that could just take my burden away. Well, I told her that it’s just some family related issues that was making me shed tears. “Family issues keh!” she said. She spoke in Yoruba language. She asked what kind of family issue was that. I no wan tell her. One don’t just go around telling people their problems. I felt reluctant telling her. “Part of me said I should open up to her while another part of me said I should not. She seemed to be asking genuinely but she’s just a random person. Even if I tell her, will she adopt me or give me N1m.” I just told her that the money I was giving to for my school was not enough. Immediately I said that, almost every one inside the car busted into laughter. Part of me was like, “You see, you see wetin I tell you. You should have not told her.” I began regretting saying it out. The woman laughed uncontrollable in a mocking tone. “Is that the family problem,” she asked. She said there are some people their own case was worse so mine was even not a case. By then, I just wished she knew more about my own case. As other people in the car were talking, some gisting and telling stories of how their children survive in higher institution. I just ignored them. “No be their own e dey me sef. I went back into deep thoughts that I didn’t even know when we got to Ibadan. The woman beside me called my attention when she was alighting. She was kind enough to give me N500. I accepted it graciously and thanked her as she told me not to cry. She left. Well, N500 will definitely go a long way. Na so I take car wey dey enter Abeokuta. It dropped me in a popular spot called “Camp,” a road leading to Funaab. The place I am squatting. When I got to the house where I was squatting. The guy don almost empty the house. He had almost sold everything in the room. The room was virtually empty. He said he was finally leaving that evening back to Lagos and the only thing he left for me was a wall hanger. The foam, he said some one was coming to pick it. Not quite long I came in, the person came and carried it. Na so everybody for the compound dey hail am as he dey leave. He said he had told the landlord that he was leaving. The rent was expiring the next 3 weeks and if I wasn’t going to renew, I should leave because the landlord na “No-nonsense” man. Na so My guy com finally leave. I began thinking of how to raise N24, 000 for the room. And the house was arguably one of the cheapest and very neat in the area. As I slept that night, i went into deep thoughts again. At a time I felt like just giving up and going back to Ilorin. But I just had to keep calm. I told myself that I would try as much to be friendly with the neighbors since the original guy who owns the room had left. There were about 4 rooms in the compound. 3 rooms were occupied by thee females while the remaining one was occupied by my guy that left. I don’t really know much of the girls neither have I had a reasonable conversation with them except but one of them, Adaobi. When I was paying for my school fee and other registration, she congratulated me and welcomed me to Funaab. 
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