You have heard of that boy who had millions of dreams embedded in his head right from childhood, who was born into a family that had no regard for him, neither did want him. He was a zygote in the womb to be removed by his mother countless times, an unwanted child by his father yet survived countless storms of abortion, countless needles and syringes, countless chemicals which would have seen him drown in the river of death in the womb. A boy born with an unusual hair which depicted strength & courage, untouchable by men, which wouldn't see the feel of a razor. A hair which wasn't loved by his mother, neither was it desired by his father. A boy visited three months after his birth by a disease, on whose wings rode the spirit of death ready to carry him into the dark abyss, experiencing whooping cough which persevered for weeks, not until he was taken to a doctor for healing, where he, a child yet to see half a year felt the wrath of a broom on the sinews of his skins, crying for help, gazing at his own mother to rescue from the wrath of the broom, an exercise which made him vomit strange spittles, of which afterwards he regained his whole consciousness & felt again the breathe of life

© Daniel Ezeokeke