The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy!
Iyanu (Miracle).
“Dedicated to Tunde Onakoya for his undying love for humanity and large contributions towards giving hope to children around the world.”
Author: David Oletu
If I fell from the heavens to earth to begin my existence, it would have been much better.
At least, I will be sure that God up there, who may have been the one who threw me down to earth in my wide imagination, will be responsible for my well-being.
Although I believe God caters for our well-being, I also believe he uses people for us.
The Abandoned But Gifted Street Boy
My name is Iyanu, and this is my story:
I was abandoned in this world by people who I suppose ought to be my parents:
according to Omidan—the street Lord—the one who picked me up in the middle of a bush where my mother abandoned me, with a letter that inscribed:
“I TAKE THE FULL BLAME FOR MY IRRESPONSIBILITY AND WAYWARDNESS AS A TEENAGER. I GAVE BIRTH TO A CHILD I WASN’T READY TO CATER FOR. WHOEVER PICKS THIS CHILD UP, PLEASE HELP ME TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM.”
Omidan was a man whom I call my father.
According to him, in the year 1999, luckily for me, he was urinating at a corner in the bush where I was abandoned when he saw a very beautiful young lady carrying a small round bowl.
He hid somewhere to see what the lady was up to.
She looked suspicious, trying to look around every corner of the bush to be sure no one was watching her.
She dropped the small round bowl in the bush and ran away.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
Omidan, out of curiosity, went towards the bowl to see what was in it.
And, to his surprise, he saw me—
a very fine, innocent baby who had no slight knowledge of whatever events were happening around him but was sleeping peacefully.
Omidan picked up the letter that was laid beside me,
trying to read its content but couldn’t due to his lack of exposure to formal education; he couldn’t read nor write.
What does it matter to him anyway?
He cared less about it but more about me at that moment. He felt compassion towards me, saying:
“Such a fine baby, sleeping peacefully in danger.
If only, as a baby, he were sensitive to his environment and the bad intentions of the kind of mother that was carrying him about in her belly for 9 months,
he would have hated himself for allowing his mother to push him out of her vagina to exist in such a lonely world
and rather hang in her belly to perhaps die there while she is in labour, trying harder to push him out to later abandon him.”
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
Omidan carried me, took me to his home,
kept the letter in a safe place, raised and nurtured me, sponsored my education until primary 6th grade,
and gave me the letter to read in Year 2010.
That was when I got to know the story behind my existence.
I wept bitterly when I realized that Omidan wasn’t my father after all.
I wished I were his seed, but I am glad to have seen him as the father I never had.
He named me Iyanu, hoping that I grow up someday to miraculously become a great person,
even if he didn’t have enough material resources to make that happen.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
Omidan suggested I further my education to the secondary level, but I refused!
What was the point of being educated when those who are educated—those who could read and write letters just like my supposed mother, who abandoned me—do not have compassion,
but rather those who are not educated, like Omidan?
Ever since Omidan told me my story, I held a rigid perspective about life.
that my heroes are not those who wear expensive ‘capes’, or speak the best and most fluent grammar,
but those who show love and compassion, as Omidan had modelled.
I loved Omidan so much and desired to emulate his kind of lifestyle, which the people criticized.
He is a known tout whom the Yorubas in Nigeria call ‘Agbero’; the head of all touts in my street at that.
He works with his boys,
both teenagers and youths, at the Oshodi under-bridge in Lagos, Nigeria, to collect money from ‘Danfo’ drivers and conductors, as well as from big men who drive luxurious cars.
The Abandoned But Gifted Street Boy
Although I wasn’t yet mature enough to join them in collecting money from bus and car owners,
I and other teenage street boys still worked at the Oshodi Under-bridge as luggage carriers:
We carried people’s luggage on our heads to their desired travelling park, and they paid us.
Perhaps, as we grow older, we will join the older agberos to start ‘billing’ drivers.
To the people and road users, the ‘agberos’ were constituting a nuisance,
making a supposed civilized road look uncivilized with their noise, drinks, cigarettes, fights with bus drivers and conductors,
and constant demand for money from bus and car owners, who may find it difficult to resist giving them money because they just want to pass in peace.
But, to us, that was our only means to survival—at least better than armed robbery or ritual killings.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
Is the government helping to empower us so we can stay off the streets?
Why should they even care when we were not supposed to be their responsibility in the first place and since our source can’t nurture us properly?
We all have a source. We didn’t fall from the sky to exist.
A majority of us were abandoned by our source.
And for some of us, our needs can’t be met by them due to poverty. So, whatever we do to survive is solely dependent on us.
Many of us want to live a good life, ride big cars, and own luxuries.
Some of us had dreams of becoming doctors, engineers, musicians, presidents, etc.,
but how could we have done that with little or no resources and means?
No one should blame or condemn us; many of us are victims of circumstances who need help.
Rather, help and save us from the street if you can, and we will change.
We are only programmed to act the way we do as ‘Agberos’ by the kind of environment we live in, the people we grew up with, and the need to survive.
So, everything we do seems normal to us.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
I spent 20 years of my life growing up in an environment full of touts,
emulating their lifestyle until I crossed paths with a man named Uncle Tunde.
Uncle Tunde came alongside his team to the Oshodi under-bridge, putting on his wine and grey-coloured fila(cap), which I interpret to date to signify hope.
He came like the Saviour we were all waiting for to bring out the star in us.
He gathered the street children and teenagers like myself at a place within Oshodi Under-bridge and introduced the game of chess to us.
I had no idea what his intentions were for us, but I loved his description of the game and grew so interested in it.
He taught us how to play the game and entertained us with snacks and drinks.
We were so excited to participate.
I saw myself as the king in the game of chess, who would reign and rule over everyone I competed with.
Such a wide imagination made me strive to be the best in the game, as I paid rapt attention to Uncle Tunde’s instructions.
A few days later, after being taught, Uncle Tunde challenged us to a chess game competition:
sewn an ‘agbada’ and the wine and grey-colored fila of hope for us and assembled the 10 of us.
Majestically styled in our flying ‘agbada’ and fila, Uncle Tunde walked us through the bridge to the real game of chess as the people hailed us loudly.
The game began, and we played with all seriousness and determination to win.
The game lasted for an hour or more, and my joy knew no bounds when I was pronounced the winner.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
The people—my fellow street ”agberos’—carried me on their shoulders, singing my praise.
I never also knew that my victory and name had gone around places I had never been,
already making headlines in the media space and around the world,
until I saw it myself some days later in the newspaper and television.
On that day, I realized that the game I put all my mind into was beyond a game of chess,
but a game that Uncle Tunde uses to empower underprivileged young people like me and the other street teenagers he equips with the game.
Omidan was proud of me.
The name he gave me, with the hope that I would be a great person someday, is eventually working for me.
Ever since that experience when I met Uncle Tunde, my life has changed.
My rigid perspective about people who are educated also changed after seeing Uncle Tunde.
The love he showed us was beyond this world.
I realized that people, whether educated or not, can choose to be good or bad.
So, I can be as educated as Uncle Tunde is,
and I can choose to love naturally, have compassion, and be good to people!
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
I heartily received a scholarship from Uncle Tunde’s organization to further my education from secondary to tertiary level.
I am 23 years old today and in junior secondary school, class 3.
Also, with the help of Uncle Tunde, I was able to learn a computer skill,
which has placed me at a higher advantage to earn for myself and take care of my basic needs while schooling.
Children are gifts to humanity.
They only lose value when they are not properly nurtured by their source.
You shouldn’t bring them into the world today and forget about their future tomorrow,
nor should you produce them when you are not ready to cater for them.
The Abandoned but Gifted Street Boy
I wish the person who owns the handwriting in the letter that was laid beside me in my little bowl could see me today,
and ponder more on her past action of dumping me to see if her decision was truly worth it or not.
What if I had died of hunger at that spot?
And What if no one had picked me up to raise and feed me?
Or do you feel babies know nothing? have no emotions? that they can’t get hungry? Or their lives don’t count?
Every child deserves a good and purposeful life.
You owe them that kind of life for a good future that will be beneficial to them, you, and society at large.
Author’s note:
This story is an imaginative work of art by the author, inspired by Tunde Onakoya’s Chess in Slums, Africa Initiative.
It is a depiction of the life of the average abandoned child living on the street without any form of care.
It also serves as a voice to encourage more kind acts towards those children,
as it is dedicated to Tunde Onakoya for his undying love for humanity
and large contributions towards giving hope to children around the world who are underprivileged to showcase their potential.
He made them feel bold, confident, and strong like the kings, queens, and knights in the game of chess,
living their dreams and overcoming every roadblock, rejoicing in their ever-dazzling‘ agbada’ and fila of hope.
Tunde Onakoya is the kind of celebrity the world needs.
The Abandoned But Gifted Street Boy:
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