WHEN HOPE LEADS THE WAY

It was on a fateful morning when Abulu shocked everyone as he packed a single Ghana-Must-Go bag and said he was leaving for Lagos.

“Ah! Lagos will swallow you if you don't tread carefully,” Mama cried.

“Where do you even know in Lagos? I'm sure none of our ancestors had been there. Mitcheeew,” Chindu, Abulu’s younger brother said and hissed.

“Biko nu, do you want to die before your time?” Papa warned.

“You this boy ehn,” Papa continued pointing fingers at him. “You know you are my firstborn, the strength of my youth. After taking care of you for good twenty-five years, you have now decided to die on your own,” Papa began to cry now.

“Papa!” Abulu said in shock as he saw Papa crying. “I cannot continue to live in this house with you. I need to improve my life. I want to explore my dreams and capabilities.”

“Explore? Haven't you been exploring your dreams? But you told me that you dreamt of Amaka hugging you tight, ehn?” Chindu retorted.

Mama gasped and slapped the back of Chindu’s head. “Is that what you would say to your brother when he is chasing his destiny? Amaka ko, Binta ni!”

But Abulu wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. He stood, chest high, with that stubborn glint in his eyes.

Everyone in Amaotu village had one thing to say about Abulu because he was different. Tall, sharp-eyed, and always dreaming. While others planted cassava and yams, Abulu was always experimenting. It was this experimenting spirit that possessed him when he once tried to fry akara with engine oil.

He dragged his Ghana-Must-Go past the mud kitchen, ignoring Papa who was now sniffing louder than a goat in heat.

“Let him go!” Papa finally shouted. “When Lagos finishes with him, he will crawl back like a lizard under harmattan,” Papa stood up with chest heaving and went inside the room.

“Papa, if I don’t try, I won’t know. Even Jesus left his hometown,” Abulu said boldly and left the house.

“Abulu!” Mama called and ran after him with a small bag. “Take! My special grounded ogbono and egusi. Please be careful biko,” Mama hugged him.

“Thank you, Mama,” Abulu said and walked to the gate without looking back.

He arrived in Lagos with nothing but a friend's address and dreams too big for his pocket. The city greeted him with noise, smoke and chaos. The honking of Danfo buses and the shouts of conductors hit him like a slap from the gods.

“Yaba straight! Yaba left! No change o!”

Abulu clutched his Ghana-Must-Go bag tighter and muttered, “So this is the Lagos they warned me about.”

In two minutes, he was hustled into a bus with no seats left, sandwiched between a sweating woman carrying a basket of roasted fish on her laps and a man eating roasted corn with reckless abandon.

The Lagos air was hot, but Abulu endured. He smiled when he eventually got to his friend's address.

For the first time, he felt free. Free from planting yam and cassava, free from the smell of goat dung behind their kitchen.

Here is the place of his destiny where he could become anything. But, Lagos didn’t come to play. It hit Abulu like a trailer that lost its brakes on a highway. After three weeks, he was robbed of his 500 naira for transport which he kept in his back pocket and had to trek to his destination.

He got a cleaning job in a supermarket where he mopped marble floors morning and evening. However, after a misunderstanding with a member of staff in the supermarket, Abulu got fired. It was a really tough time for him. He battled with hunger, and he lost weight but he refused to give up. His friend introduced him into designing which Abulu grabbed with both hands.

Then came Young Dreamers Grant, a televised youth innovation contest which his friend told him about. First prize: five hundred thousand naira and mentorship.

Abulu borrowed money to buy the form and even borrowed trousers that didn’t fit for the interview. He had designed a web, and he stood in front of a panel of experts to defend his work. They asked no questions when he finished. Just silence.
However, he won and was congratulated.

By the sixth month, Mama called. “My son, how is Lagos?”

Abulu laughed, heart full. “Mama, Lagos did not swallow me. I chewed it instead. Throwing caution to the wind isn't always foolish. It is sometimes the boldness that destiny demands.”

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