As promised, this is my own story in 5 minutes.😁
Not long ago I discovered my late brother was writing his story. I think he began when he discovered he was becoming ill more often; he really hadn’t gone far – he stopped whilst writing about me. I think he said something about me being experimental. So in telling my story, I’ll begin with the simplicity it offers.
My name is Shobande Daniel Oluwadamisi. I have many sobriquet; to some I am son, friend, brother, father, uncle. Ms, Danbaby, Danny, Danny Olora (should I add that I detest this?), Ms_D@s, Shobb’s, Shobbzy, even someone saved my contact as Magi Daniel Up Nepa (simply because. . . you should know why already, hehehe).
I used to be the second child of my mother and father, but my elder brother is late now. Before he died, he used to be six years older and asides living with our grandparents during our formative years, we were best of buddies; so his loss did grieve me a lot (now, this is not to say I am in need of sorry (s), it is something I’ve had to live with for 5 years – it certainly is party of my story).
Growing up, I didn’t know the face of my father and now that I do, it hasn’t been much of a difference (well, asides the fact that I have amazing kid brothers to smile to from step-mothers, I wonder why I still don’t have a sister oo). I could go ahead to reel out information about how my family has aided who I have grown to become but most of all, I appreciate God for the privilege to come through them. Life then used to be from the eye of an innocent child learning the ways of the world, I guess the saying is true, “learning never ends.” I will say briefly that I love to play (a lot) and it has immensely affected how I see life.
I see life as the school playground (I attended Saint Catherine’s Model School, before it had extra structures, our playground was extensive), if you’re careful enough you enjoy the cruise (or not, you get hit by someone doing so) and if not, you get injured, either ways you had fun. I always wanted to be free and in know of what it is that I was doing, but couldn’t so I started out an introvert – had few friends but played the “we all are friends game.” This lasted a while. I knew I wasn’t really enjoying this form, so I began to speak (it became too much, I didn’t like it) then two years ago I learnt being an “AMBIVERT” works better, I just needed little work to become this me.
What interests me spans a long list (and writing poems is definitely a part, love and more) but I write because I know there are some people like me who just need these words and letters and find solace in knowing that they are not the only ones that are going through that phase. Hence, SHOBB’S DIARY.
I have had a long spell of academic excellence from primary school, but in senior secondary I couldn’t spell the word “EPIGEAL,” it’s a word in biology associated with living above the ground. I missed it. And worst of all, it was my teacher in school that was the person dictating the words, I fell my hands, his and the schools’.
It was painful, but tears dropped when my friend and I lost by a margin in a mathematics competition (Enoch Adejare Mathematics Competition, I think) after qualifying through a crowd of schools that came around. I remember well, we were given 2 Kemps Cream crackers biscuit (not pack oo) and one water whilst the 1st to 4th had a pair of computers, laptops, tablets and phones in that order (we came 5th).
What I learnt? Never Stop Engaging in becoming better. Our mantra as public school pupils used to be, “our teacher did not come to class.” I began to read like the world was on my nerves (it didn’t stop my play oo); the guy from the school wearing white ups and down told us he learnt that disqualifying question without teacher’s aid. I just don’t know why or how I failed Civic Education (I could have called for remarking cef), I think I’ve relented now.
Hmmm. In primary school, I wanted to become an artist because I was good at drawing. There used to be a friend, Stanley Igbojionu, I looked up to; he was damn good at drawing so I worked towards it, but the guy had a tinker’s cells in his brain. He made a remote controlled vehicle IN CLASS, rubber balloon ball IN CLASS (it broke the window glass and was seized, but then everyone had learnt to make one, hehehe), he also made a standing fan with buttons IN CLASS still (but had to take it home because heat was affecting everybody).
He joined Jet club and I? Literary and debating society. I wasn’t (and don’t think I am) fluent at speaking, but Seun Osewa was. I was paired with her but I admired her beauty more; her lips were usually red like blood and it contrasted her fair skin, when she walks it’s with grace, the same grace she used to teach me calligraphy. This gingered me to learn from her.
Whilst everyone had two clubs, I was in four; literary and debating, Jets, Scout and [Sacred hearts], not sure about the name of the last one. When it was time to choose path in secondary, I chose science; I just wanted to become an engineer (which I am, making). My plans began to have redress as I grew. Like I said, I had mapped out my plan (in fact, my mum reminds me that I ought to be a married man already, LOL) and it took daily walk with God.
For me, I’ve learnt to live today and believe God for tomorrow. This is the same I will advise you to do. At the end, the tomorrow you worry for will come, you just might not be there to live it. Let God balance out your plans, let Him be the game changer too.
A moment that changed my perspective about life. You’ll laugh. I got slapped by a girl, Nwakego, in primary school. I think I trespassed playfully. Apparently, she was too old to be in primary 4 green, but I couldn’t do anything to placate the situation than keep shut. We ended up friends after the not-so-ridiculous event, and I’m glad we did because since primary four, I haven’t set my eyes on her.
Lesson learnt. Keeping quiet doesn’t make you a fool or serve as an evidence of cowardice, it only means you’ve learnt that talking all the time doesn’t do it. Sometimes, you need think through a situation, when you do, you find relevance in what you say. I look back at that event and it makes more meaning now that I’m older. I could have fought, or set a trap or just found a way around my revenge. I didn’t, and it made the difference.
Just like the poem “Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.
. . . I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made the difference.
In telling your story, there are so many things that have been given a highlight and some that have become the chief of the person we’ve grown to become. This month, Shobb’s Diary gives you the opportunity to meet with people’s personal stories on how they came to be.
You could drop yours too, after all, everybody has an important story.
Tell yours, it certainly will be enough.
Here are mock-up Questions.
- Tell me about yourself, in a nutshell.
- A little about growing up, how life was then and now.
- What do you think has changed (the good and bad) about you?
- Your interests and what spurs you (to do what you do). Depending on your work or area of expertise. Start like this: As a …, what are your interests and what spurs you to. . .
- Describe a time you failed (how it felt, what you learnt, and how you came back).
- Some people like to say they see themselves in … positions in X years, but never do. Did it ever occur to you at a point in time that the plan you drew at 17 or 18 or at any point during your formative years would have or need a redress?
- What would you say to people going through the phase of decision making and redress today?
- It’s July, our month of Moments and Memories. Do you have any moment you’d love to share that really changed your perspective about life?
It would be an honor to have your story joining the list being forwarded to me. Send via email firstname.lastname@example.org, or hit me up on WhatsApp: 08167722300.
Here I am saying a very big THANK YOU, in appreciation for your time, sincerity and the privilege to meet.