Certainly we know that there are different types of spoon. But then the phrase “born with or without a silver spoon” is very popular. So one could conclude that a silver spoon is the best type of spoon one can posses.
For me I don’t even think I was born with a wooden spoon not to talk of a silver one. Inshort I was born without a spoon
Hi Friends, my name is Kayode Anjorin. I grew up in a family of five. My father, mother, 2 siblings and I. ours could be classified as the proper AJEPAKO family. We lived in a room and had about a very little tiny bit of everything.
My mum was a petty trader, she was a specialised bread seller and my dad was a popular danfo (bus) driver.
I can’t give a good history of my family; all I know is that my conscious self matured into knowing that we were five people living in a cube called a room.
My mum’s highest education was class six (as they always say) but she could express herself well and do some level of writing. She even helped us out in our school work back in the days and would always refer us back to our teachers with a note when it got difficult for her to understand. My mother was never shy of saying she didn’t know and she made me understand that there was nothing wrong in not knowing but that there was everything wrong in pretending to know out of pride and not wanting to humble yourself and learn. She never failed to remind us that she will do everything within her power to give us the best education she could afford so we could know better and be far better than her in life.
My mum suffered a great deal of abuse in the hands of my father. It hurts to say but my dad could be classified as the chief of irresponsible men in the metropolis community. The only thing i knew about that man was that he had a yellow bus, he comes home by 11:00pm and leaves the house at about 4:30am.
Baba comes home drunk most nights and one thing will always lead to another then my Iya would always get the beating of her life on a regular basis.
My siblings: Jide and Dapo could sleep for Africa, so they didn’t really understand what was going on at that point. I saw everything but was helpless and would always cry in silence… More like whimpering. It was clear that my mum didn’t want us to know what was going on, so i pretended not to know.
I later found out that the burden of the family was on my mum and that she paid our school fees by doing a daily contribution. She would always come to the school to plead, give a particular date, saying that that is when my dad would be able to give her the money while that was actually two days after her collection date.
My mum was a hustler! She did all sorts of contracts, ranging from house cleaning, to compound sweeping, clothing washing, etc to support the sales of bread.
My father never appreciated my mum for all these efforts but we were grateful that he at least paid the house rent even if that was his only usefulness.
As we grew older, our school fees and school needs were increasing and it became difficult for my mum to cope. Just as i finished my primary school leaving exams (common entrance), i was 10years old and i felt the need to tell my mum that i knew all she was going through and how much i loved her and would soon take care of her taking a queue from a story my class teacher told us in school when teaching us moral instruction. At that point, i became my mother’s confidant and helped in the little way i could, i followed her to most of the places she did the janitor jobs to assist her. People called me “oko mama e” meaning “his mother’s husband”. I never really understood why i was called that name but that was the least of my worries. I just wanted to assist my mum in a way my dad did not.
It was during this period that Aunty Ada came to our compound. She moved into the only self contain in the compound. She hardly came out because she had all she wanted in her little apartment, unlike the other tenants that had to share the toilet and kitchen. Aunty Ada was a spinster, a graduate and was working in a company where she was well paid, she had flexible work hours and was really comfortable.
Barely a month of her moving in, she was smart enough to figure some of the tenants out. She called my mum one evening into her apartment, i was so curious that i had to sit by her door to know why Aunty Ada would call my mum into her room, they had a really long talk, i couldn’t hear them well but i knew my mum cried, i heard her tell my mum not to cry again that God will see us all through….i wanted to knock on the door to see if she was also beating my mum like my dad. But i tried to remain calm.
After their long talk, my mother came out, saw me at the door and started laughing; Aunty Ada called me the same “oko mama e” and they both laughed. It wasn’t funny to me. I just stared at them.
When we got in, my mother smiled and said “my son, you will be furthering your education with ease after all. God has sent us a guardian angel in form of Aunty Ada.
From then on, Aunty Ada took up my siblings and I’s school fee payment, and all mum needed to do was to buy our stationeries. It was like a dream come true. Even after she got married, she still carried on the responsibility and even my siblings used to go to her place occasionally for holidays.
The first time i stood up to my Dad was when i was in my Senior Secondary School 3 (SSS 3). He wanted to beat my mother again as usual but the boldness came from within, i looked my father in the eye and told him ‘enough is enough’, my siblings joined in. He laughed in a hilarious way, looked at my mother and said something in Yoruba which translated to ‘i knew this was going to happen when you decided to give birth to 3 boys’. He picked a few of his things and left the house. That was the last we saw of our dad.
One particular evening, my mum called me. She sat me down and asked me to make her a promise. I smiled and told her i would promise her anything. She said;
“Kayode, the fact that you have seen me being abused or that your father is abusive doesn’t mean you should turn out the same. You are educated and learned, promise me you will never lay your hands on any woman, no matter how hard she pushes you. Promise me you will take up your responsibility as a man and never allow any woman go through what i have gone through. Promise me you will be a much better man, brother, father, lover, friend, and above all, have the fear God.”
I made these promises to my mother and have never failed.
I am a graduate now, working in an oil Marketing Company, my mum doesn’t have to do such jobs anymore, my siblings are doing great and we’re one big blessed and happy family. I have children that are not my biological children but I’ve decided to be a father to. I am getting married to a lovely woman this Saturday who understands what life is and share the same vision with me and it seems my whole world is perfect.
That you have been abused, experienced pain or come from an abusive home doesn’t mean you should re-live this kind of life and make it a cycle. Our world can be a better place and it begins with you. Pick up the pieces and make a lovely coat out of it. Do not dwell in pain, rejection and hatred but rather step into Joy, Acceptance and love. Be a channel of blessing where there is hardship, a channel of love where there is hatred, a channel of faith where there is doubt. It doesn’t matter what level you are in, there is always something you can give. Someone’s destiny is tied to that little move of kindness. You can’t afford to fail.
Reach out to someone today. Your love is needed.
Share that Silver spoon!
Get that Silver spoon!
Give someone a Silver spoon!