After three months, I landed another job at a subsidiary of Home Depot in San Diego, called Maintenance Warehouse (MWH). I was thrilled again because I had never been 3 months without work, or income so I was really getting worried. There was a bit of a red flag at my interview. The man who was to be my manager, Bill Schiraldi met me along with the recruiter from RHI (Robert Half International) in his office and immediately dismissed the recruiter in a slightly rude way, saying he was not comfortable with him being there. I did not make a big deal of it, but it seemed wierd, and I felt bad for the recruiter.
When I started the job, everything looked great, and I was very happy. One of the nights I was asleep at home, sometime close to dawn, a dark spirit came in the place between sleep and awake, where I seem to have no control whatsoever, laying on my back, and with his “thing”, trying to penetrate my "back door". This never happened to me before, and I fought it very hard, until finally I was able to break free and wake myself up. My intuition told me this was now happening because of the prostitutes I had associated with. Things started to take a turn at work as Bill Schiraldi started to micro-manage seriously. Like he was breathing down my neck. Everything I was doing he would poke his nose into, to tell me how to do it better. He was a stickler for documentation and wanted me to document every single detail of whatever task I was going to do, before I do it. Even very simple things I could do with my eyes closed. Once I left work for some hours as I was always used to being free. Only important thing to me was that I got the job done, not that I was sitting at my desk at all hours of the day. He was not so focused on the productivity, but the look of order. While I was out, he came to my desk and saw I was not there. He now placed some Items on my chair, in order to determine how long I will be out. I came back maybe 3 hours later and removed the things without thinking much of it. He immediately called me into the office to ask why I was away for so long and gave his evidence of the things he placed on my chair. I thought "how petty". Many times when he would call me into the office, while talking to me, he would hang his mouth open and begin rolling his toungue around in front of me. I complained about this to his boss, and his boss scolded him a bit, and he got really mad at me. Then the part I wrote in my website, he would call me into his office, and we would discuss a bit and at a point while I’m talking to him, he would begin to wink at me. It was not a sexually suggestive wink, but rather like he knows me from a very long time ago that I cannot remember anymore. At the moment he is winking, the flourecent lights in the office would start blinking off and on. I played it off like I did not notice. One time he was chastising me for something or other and mentioned “I have a file on you this thick…(indicating with his hands how thick)”. Amazing I thought to myself. How can anyone be so small minded. One day I was at the docking area where we recieved computer equipment we had ordered, and he saw me there and said the docking area was kind of dirty, that I should get a broom and sweep it. I thought it was an odd request for an engineer to begin sweeping, but I figured whatever, if they are paying me $40 an hour to sweep a dock, I’ll do it. In those days, when I annoyed him he would refer to me as a common technician. One day, I forget what happened, but he suddenly said to me “I will start treating you like everyone else”. In my mind I was thinking maybe its God, who has been treating me so well all my life, and now I am disappointing to the extent he would now categorize me in the group he doesn’t care for. And to be honest, he treated everybody very bad. I was told when I started that the SA I replaced who had rebelled against them made the comment “I can never work for Bill Schiraldi”. At first when I heard it I figured it was unfair judgement of Bill and I should give a chance and see for myself if I would have the same feeling. Yes, it was not too long I came to the same conclusion.
Bill’s boss was Tom Giannetti. Tom and I got along very well, but he was a bit of a fascist too. I got the idea that Bill did not like Tom too much because he was giving Bill more trouble than even Bill was giving me. I remember one time when Bill, who was taking pills for anxiety, had to write a letter to Tom explaining some things he did and how his medication was his reason for such action.
In the early months I started working there, I had a dream one night, my father took me to a heavenly looking place. We were high in the air, and below us a very beautiful scenery. A river winding through with beautiful palm trees on the sides of it, and he said to me “if I lose you now, what do I have left?”. I woke up and was so in awe and the joy I felt from having what was evidently a true spiritual moment. I knew it was related to my involvement with prostitutes. I thought well I had already vowed never to do that again, but I’m glad to get some reinforcement for that decision.
There was another total dick that worked at that location. He was the lead DBA (Oracle Database Admin), called Charlie Mengler. Early in my stint there, I was working on a server and had to reboot it. I can’t recall the details, but I’m pretty sure I did nothing wrong in the protocol and communications, and when I rebooted, I got a flamming email from Charlie, in all caps, insulting me and seriously chastising. Thats how my relationship with the lead DBA began, and I always hated him after that. Everybody else had all kinds of complaints about him, but they claimed they just cant get rid of him. All in all, there was just so much acrymony in that company. Total negative energy. Once I was in a meeting with the lead Unix SA and other people in the Unix and DBA team, the Unix Lead - Rick Von Richter, said some things I thought I should add some amendment to. Because of the atmosphere in the room I was a bit nervous, but I decided to voice my opinion anyway. As I did, my voice trembled just a bit, not much at all, but they picked up on it. After that meeting my manager called me into his office saying he wanted me to work on public speaking and speaking in environments that may be hostile to my opinion, and that they will help me. I laughed the situation off and went my way. After that they started forming meetings to create tense atmosphere trying to break me when I speak. I remember after one of those meetings, he asked them “did anyone break?”. I was kind of amazed in my mind at this kind of thinking.
In those days, I watched porn on VCR videos. I had just one video, with a good collection of porn on it. I watched it whenever I was in the mood. I would watch only for as long as I lasted, once I had climaxed, then I'd turn it off and continue from the point I stopped the next time I was in the mood. ( I found it funny when my friend Bill Dakouris [that I said was gay], borrowed it and claimed the next day that he had watched the whole video in one night. How someone can be watching porn when not jacking off was a true wonder to me ). Anyway, back to the point, it was 2002 about then, and I remember in 1993, when I was watching porn again in my Allentown apartment, and after watching it, I was enamored by how perfect the guys dick was, and in those days, I was under the impression that my dick was about the same size as his. I looked at it in the bathroom mirror, and it looked hmmm ok maybe. I was tempted by the idea to record it on video, as I had a very good video camera then. I then started masturbating one day, and turned the video camera on in the direction of my bed. When I played it back, I looked in the direction of my dick, expecting to see something like what I see in porn videos. There was nothing there at all. Nothing. I could not find my dick. I was shocked, so I looked even closer. Hardly anything there. I refused to believe the video evidence, but I was now aware that my dick is much smaller than what I thought at first. I have never really been concerned about my dick size, but now the very little concern was maybe a little more than before. Through the years of watching porn, it did affect me, but just a little, how little my dick was compared to the porn guys. I knew obviously they would use the guys with the biggest dicks, but still I had been in locker rooms many times growing up ( as a wrestler in Central Junior High school in Iowa city in 1980/81, we took showers after practice and I always noticed I was the smallest by far ). Also in FGC secondry school in Nigeria, it hardly bothered me, but again I did notice I was the smallest. Even so, I used to bathe outside, where only the guys with the biggest did, without feeling any shame. Back in Chula Vista however (San Diego), in 2002, there began to be a *lot* of adverts for pills that can make a mans dick bigger. I totally laughed at the concept initially, thinking “thats obviously impossible”. Its a scam, there’s no way it works. At a certain point however, rethoric around it began to look like there is a possibility it does work, so I became curious, but still very skeptical, I just decided to “google” if those pills do work. The first couple hits were normal, some claiming it works, others claiming it doesn’t, then I got one hit, that totally captured my attention. Someone had written a small article on why its not a good idea to try to grow your dick. The words he spoke went right to my heart. It seemed to be written by someone with great care and understanding, that spoke directly to me, maybe even higher than how I currently write on facebook or other social media. Immediately after reading that article, I put away completely, any thought of wanting to use any “aid” to grow my dick. I was totally confident and happy with the little dick I did have. AMEN! Today I believe it was either Saint Peter or Jesus himself that did that article.
The first time I noticed a wicked spirit take control of someone was in that office. One day I was speaking with Rick (the lead SA), and I started to complain about the management style. I said many things including “its fascist, men..” at that point, I saw his head and neck move in a very weird way, and his voice changed and he started lashing out verbally at me “have you done this this and this?…. “ I would answer “yes”. "And have you done that that and that?” again yes. “What about the other thing?”. I quickly backed away from where he was and went to my cubicle. How strange I thought. he was a totally different being, and mean. Rick never acted like that naturally. In fact I never saw that face of him again.
Another night while I was still working there, I had a nightmare about Bill Schiraldi. We were somewhere in the lower area of a building of sorts and he was doing something in a watery place where I was now walking close to. We were chatting normally and then I got close to where he was and noticed it was 4 or 5 rows of coffins stacked in the water, one coffin on top of another, with dead bodies inside each coffin. I immediately began to run away, and he was pleading with me to please come back, there is nothing going on here. I did not look back.
I remember one occasion, Tom took me to an office upstairs to meet a man I did not know. As Tom introduced us, the man had a look of recognition as he looked at me and his expression was like someone who had lost someone dear, like crying a bit with surrender. I immediately reflected on the events following my involvement with prostitutes and figured his expression was saying they had lost me to the dark side. I also knew something spiritual was going on, because quite often when I would be talking with someone, looking in their eyes, they would suddenly put on sun glasses, like they did not want me to see their eyes. One time we went out to an ice cream place and I made a comment like “it’s gross for two guys to eat out of the same ice cream cup/jar. Next thing they ordered one jar and two or three of the guys each with his own spoon began to eat out of it. I dont know why, but it turned my stomach a bit, like unsanitary, not to talk of sexual implications. They acted like they were bold and shoving in my face they dont care for my opinion.
During my stint there, one day at lunch, a Mexican guy who was one of the top managers came to sit with me. We talked a bit but I didn’t have too much to say. I got the feeling he felt he was gracing me with his presence, and he seemed a bit disappointed when he walked away, like I did not appreciate the opportunity he was giving me. There was another manager who was really high up and Bill kept trying to groom me to kiss his ass. They organized an event in our offices on the first floor, where we would give a presentation of a project we had worked on recently. Bill instructed me that this manager would be coming and I should be on my best behaviour. Many people from the upstairs offices came too, and while I was talking to them about my presentation, this top manager walked in. I did not change anything I was doing, but continued to talk to the other regular colleagues, finishing off the presentation. When I was done then they left and the manager asked me a few questions about the presentation. I answered them happily. In those days, I had just started to lose my hair, and this guy was bald on top, with a little hair on the sides. He was much taller than me, and I saw a small smirk on his face, when he noticed I was losing some hair. Needless to say there was no ass kissing going on anywhere there. Later I think Bill reprimanded me for that.
One day I was at the cubicle of my friends who was the Microsoft Windows lead ( a Mexican guy ). He was a cool friendly guy. I noticed he had a calendar on the cubicle wall, with all the days previous to that day crossed off. I understood completely as I was doing the same thing in my mind. I had made up my mind long before that I would quit the job as soon as I could. I just wanted to get to a point where I had enough money in the bank to coast for a while. I started working there around Feb 2002 and by October or so of that year, I had paid off my house in Bethlehem. Around October of 2023, I now had about $23k in my bank account, so I figured it was enough if I wanted to quit. The opportunity did not take long to arrive. One day I took my car to the mechanic in the morning and so I got to work very late. They gave me a hard time for that. After they had finished scolding me about being absent for work due to car issue, I went to my desk and wrote my 2 weeks notice of resignation. I was so happy. My manager was very silent when he read it. I know he was devastated. Nothing they could say could change my mind and I was gone in two weeks.
About 2 months before I quit the job, I went back to my house in Bethlehem PA, where my Ghanian friend Gabi was staying while I was in CA, and stayed a week or so. One day, while Gabi was talking on the phone to Aristos (they were very close), he noticed I was still walking a little funny due to the foot twist. He mentioned to Aristos on the phone "the thing still dey. The ingredient is strong!." At the end of my stay there, I suddenly got a nose bleed from out of the blue. Nothing like that had ever happened before to me. Something in my mind was telling me it was some kind of voodoo or black magic someone had done on me. I thought it would stop quickly, given I always felt I had strong spiritual resistance to such things, but it kept on for a while. I was trying to hide it from Gabi and look like nothing was going on, but he asked me at some point if I was bleeding, even though there was no visible evidence for him to possibly know that. This increased my suspicion that it was voodoo, and I though he was somehow aware of how it came about. I said nothing though and just left back for Chula Vista.
After I quit my job, I decided NOT to rush back to Pennsylvania, but instead take some days to go to the beach and just enjoy a bit. It was in this period that I wrote the reggae song I called "I had a dream (about you in bliss with me last night)", about falling in love with someone after having a beautiful dream about them.
After a while, I moved out of my Casa La Paz apartment in Chula Vista. The day I was moving I thought my cousin Wole would come and help me, but he declined, saying he had to go to the gym. You can imagine what I thought about that, but I decided to understand. I did not want to throw away some of the items from my apartment, but also could not carry them to pennsylvania. In partucular a steam cleaner for carpet. I asked Wole if they could use it, and he declined again. Ok, no issue, I threw it in the garbage. I think as I was about to throw it some lady showed up and was interested so I was so happy to give it to her. I still decided to stay with my cousin Wole while waiting to travel back, despite what seemed like a distant behaviour from him. I parked my car by the side of the road close to his apartment and maybe the first or second day I was there, my car drivers side window was shattered again, glass everywhere and this time, some items stolen, including my video camera and small box of check books ( a bank account I had opened in Maryland when I worked in DC ).
One day while staying with Wole, his good friend from AU law school came visiting with his then girlfriend Carla. They lived in Mexico, just across the border from San Diego. His car faltered and we decided to give him a push so he could start it. I pushed along with Wole and eventually the car started. I was sooo winded after that I just had to go sit at the bottom of the stairs. My fatigue became very serious like I was going to faint and die there. Wole had gone up the stairs to the apartment and was discussing cheerfully with his friends and never noticed what was going on with me. Somehow I got out of it feeling like I narrowly escaped death, and went and joined them. I’m only mentioning this because very similar situations happened again in the future, where something major was going on with me, and Wole just seemed totally oblivious.
I should explain about now, why it is I was still single at this time and ended up going to prostitutes for sex. Until now, its not at all for lack of trying, but more because of my romance philosophy. If I begin trying to make a connection with a girl I find attractive, and there is any indication at all from her, that she is not interested, I back off and continue on my own journey. I never did believe in the other philosophy that a girl or woman demands that you keep persisting until you break down the walls of her heart. If she is not interested at first sight, that’s enough for me because any good woman in my opinion should have good judgement from the beginning, if she’s interested in going further or not. Her mind should not be weak that once she has made her judgement, some (arrogant) guy just override it with persistence. I say arrogant, because that would be arrogant attitude. “I don’t care what she says, I’m going to override her will”. Romance should be mutual interest and attraction, not just one person doing all the work to make it happen. It should not be an acquired taste. The best foods, drinks and everything else you love most in your life are not acquired at all. You were goo goo immediately you encountered, so romance most of all should not be acquired, otherwise, the devil has misled you. And so, every single lady I encountered and had interest in, at some point indicated they are not interested at all, and certainly nowhere near the amount of interest I had. I was always “head over heels” when I met a beautiful girl, and they seemed annoyed because of that. I also believe that a beautiful girl should be able to make the first move, if she finds herself attracted. In this current world it seems somewhat forbidden. Even with solid evidence of failure in the area of romance, it was impossible for me to change my phillosophy concerning that. I would remain womanless until I died if that was the case, and I did not care. It was quite a puzzle for me though, how these women could easily resist me, given how handsome I knew I was. My shortness alone could never account for the reason.
life was so so good when I returned to my house in Bethlehem, PA. As soon as I received my car from the shipping company, I was very very happy, mostly playing tennis in those days. I met a bunch of children at the high school where I went to play. Not children from the school, but children who lived in the neighborhood of the school, around ages 8 to 12, but maybe one or two were 15 or so. I bought many childrens racquets and began playing with them a lot. I bought a tennis ball machine from Amazon. It was too much fun. The kids loved it a lot too. I never had so much fun in my life. I also got in the habit of watching LMN on TV (I used Direct TV in those days). I really *loved* the movies on LMN. Soooo interesting. I also joined a table tennis club at the YMCA in Allentown. I also had a table tennis table in my basement, which I bought a tt robot for, The “robot” is just a ball machine, which you fill a bucket with balls, and it will throw them at your side of the table in professional level style spins. I loved playing it very mych, but hated picking all the balls after it has finished throwing them from the bucket. Because I had no one to play with in the basement most of the time, when I was done playing with the ball machine, I would practice my serve. My serve became one of the strongest parts of my game. Most of all, I continued making music a lot with my synthesizer and computer. I had bought one of those speakers they sold at music stores in San Diego and brought it back with me to Bethlehem (a single big speaker). My Ghannian friend Gabbi had been living in my house while I was in Chula Vista CA. He continued living there when I came back. Sometimes when I’m jamming my music the room (which I dedicated to music only), he would be on the sofa, clapping his hands. It was such a good time at first, but after one and a half years or so, at the end of 2004, we had a falling out. The problem was that I began to notice an odor in his room, and I was very concerned my house would begin to smell in that way, and I would be totally unable to remove the smell. I really hate bad smells in the house, and my house was very naturally fresh smelling in those days. It was hard for me, but I had to ask him about it at some point. I did not want to hurt his feelings, but I thought we could work together to resolve the issue, like true friends. When I broached the subject with him, I said “have you noticed an odor coming from your room? He got very angry, and said he would leave the house. He was gone withing 2 days or so. I did not want to see him go and was upset a bit that he did not instead choose to work it out with me. In late 2004, my uncle died. He is the father of Niyi, my cousin I mentioned earlier that seemingly was trying to get me together with that beautiful liberian girl that said to him “you are a salsemen”. They expected me to go to Nigeria, but I sensed it was just a wicked spirit from MWH that was trying to make me spend money so I would have to go back to work quickly. I decided I would not go, and save my money instead. I have never been big into funerals anyway, as I believe it is when someone is alive, you show love and respect. After they have died, nothing matters anymore, except to know you will see them again someday. A funny thing happened in late 2003 or early 2004, after I fled that bad job in CA (MWH). I was back in PA, one day watching TV, a small visible frame popped out of the TV and George Bush was there, saying "please come back... we'll show compassion". I swear I'm not lying at all, it was so weird. Could he be talking to me? Anyway I dismissed it and continued about my business/leisure. Not long after papa Niyi’s death, enitan called one day, but got my voice mail. He left a message, saying something like he wants to tell me what our response should be to Niyi and his brothers/mother, concerning papa Niyi’s death. The message had a “serious” and “commanding” tone, not at all in a friendly/brotherly way. When I heard it, I was furious. Since when did any one of us children, begin to tell another one, how to react or what to say? Total madness. I shouted out in the room “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? I knew it was another attempt by him to try to dominate me. Shortly after my rant, he called again, and I picked up, and he did not say anything like ‘what our response should be’, but instead made a comment to make me know he heard my rant somehow. Once he hung up, I knew it was a subtle hint to let me know he has powers I may not know about. My reaction was that I know enitan very well, and is not a person to be admired, so I don’t care what power he may have, I will never respect him the way he was looking for - meaning above myself. When Niyi got back from his dads funeral, he called me one time and mentioned that he wasn’t angry at all that I did not attend, but his brothers were more angry about that. I though to myself “who gives a fuck?” but said nothing. He proceeded to tell me that a woman my dad was having an affair with, by name of Mabel ( I knew her very well in Nigeria before I left. She was a theatre arts student, who stayed in our “boys quaters” for a while in the days I was alone in Nigeria with my dad ). Niyi said he wanted to help her come to America to better her life, and that I was the “magic bullet” to make that happen, by marrying her to get her a green card. I totally dismissed the idea on the spot. I would never do such a thing, regardless of how close people thought she was to my dad.
I used to roller blade a lot in those days too, and I got in the habit of tuning to a radio station on Saturday nights to a station that played a lot of Disco in the evening. I would be playing the music very loud in the house while rollar blading and singing. It was so much fun. The next day after Gabbi he left, there were some strange things including a dead rat in my washing machine. My thoughts again were of voodoo. How did the rat get into my washer with the lid closed? It was smelling bad. I thought Gabi and his people had done some voodoo in anger. I tried everything in the world to get the smell out of the washer, after removing the rat, the smell did not go completely. I even soaked the washer in some chemicals including bleach for a couple days. Still smelling. I had no choice but to use it like that, and my clothes and bedsheets etc were smelling a bit of that dead rat. I thought their voodoo had gone deep in my things, and was not removable. Aftrer a week or two, I found the severed head of a squirell on my front door mat just outside the door. I thought it was a warning from very wicked people. As I was picking it up, I felt so sorry for the squirell, I said “poor squirell”. I burried the head and some of the other parts of it that were torn viciously as if by a very angry violent force, and scattared around the front yard area. This did not happen only once, but maybe 3 times. I started to think it was my former bosses from MWH, because they were itallian, I thought they may be part of some mafia family and were very angry at how I left them. One day, while driving close to the house, there was a very large colorful bird or parrot, dead in the middle of the road. Again I thught it was very odd, and also a sign to me, or threat. I ignored it. In those days, I used to masturbate all the time. I sorta noticed my dick got a little softer and rubbery, like it was growing bigger. I thought it may be some kind of process I was going through related to the twist in my foot that went up to my lower back and the purpose of it was to give me a bigger dick. At some point when masturbating, I was dissappointed with how little it seemed to have grown, and muttered out loud while masturbating “is this what I suffered so much for?”. It was only a small part of me that felt that way though. At some point, my cousin Niyi called and we spoke for a while. He began to mention to me that I should NOT keep mastubating, and I should try going to a brothel or massage palor instead. I was angry with him in my mind, but just tottally ridiculed the idea to him. I did not like him anymore in my mind and dubbed him “massage palor Niyi” in jest. Strange things continued to happen. One morninng after a night of roller blading to disco music the night before, I heard a voice say in ,my head “don’t you have any remourse?”. I thought it was concerning my uncle, and wondered “why would I have remourse? Did I kill. him or something?” Shortly after, one evening, I was sitting in front of the garage, and suddenly started feeling strange, as well as having difficulty breathing. I quickly went into the house and lay on ,my bed. I suddenly felt something that felt physical, but was surely spiritual, like a strong, sharp knife slashing my throat inside, from the top right, down to the bottom left. Because it felt like I was about to die, I said a short prayer, thanking God for my wonderful though short life. I was truley greateful, and ready to go. Aftrer about 15 minutes, it all went away, and I was fine again. I thought “wow, I think I just escaped death somehow”. Another day, while masturbating on my bed, in the middle of the act, suddenly something like a spirit I could feel somewhat, came from my legs area, and I could feel deep anger from it, it very angrily moved very fast from my legs area to my loins, and grabbed what felt like my “spiritual dick”, and yanked it off completly, like ripping is away very angrily, then buzzed, moving visciously, as it made its way up to my chest area and almost my head, and then disappeared. I was very scared. I had never experienced a spirit that felt almost tangible, and that deep anger. I thought God was very angry because after having sex with real women ( the prostitutes ), I have now reverted back to masturbating. I decided though that my resolve never to have sex with prostitutes was greater than anything else, so I thought “let God be angry, I will not go to prostitutes. Is he not responsible somehow for not allowing me to get a girlfriend? If he was so concerned, he would have let that happen instead. Why would he want me to be going to prostitutes, where the girls are most likely coerced. If it was God then he was somewhat evil and I planned to resist him”. At first I thought he had ripped off all my dick, including the physical one, but when I checked, it was still there. Not long after that, I developed a lung issue again with breathing problems. One mind kept telling me I should go to the hospital to check it out, another said it would be a mistake to do so, like I’m giving in to the wicked spirit that is trying to get me. Eventually I got in my car, and still somewhat undecided, I drove around for a while, and then eventually decided to go to the hospital. When I got to the hospital, I registered and started waiting. While waiting I was still contemplating if it was a mistake to come to the hospital. Something was telling me they would just say there is nothing wrong with me, when I know for sure there is something going on. After maybe 45 minutes, they had not called me, so I finally decided its better to go home and deal with the issue myself. As soon as I got up, a man came out and called my name. I followed him. At some point, they put me on a gurney and the man was wheeling me to the observation room. While wheeling me he was looking at me, and started winking. The winking was exactly like Bill Schiraldi, my former boss from MWH. As though I should know who he is. I did not react at all, but pretended that was not happening. They took X-rays and did their analysis, and he told me “there is nothing wrong with your lungs, or anything”. He showed me the X-ray. I went home thinking I should have listened to the voice that said exactly that would happen, and not gone in the first place. Then again, at least I knew for sure now.
Another day, while lying in my room, I began to have a “sinking” feeling, and then it felt like a certain “layer” of myself, between my body and spirit I guess, was being burned off. I percieved the smell of what I could only call “fumes from hell”. In my mind, I thought this means I am sinking into hell because of my involvment with prostitutes.
Shortly after that, again while lying in bed, I thought I was hearing a voice physically like outside my head, but no one was there. A thought in my head came, saying to go visit my sister in New York city, as she would know something about this. In a way, I thought she was summoning me urgently regarding the things that were going on. I got in my car and drove to NYC, to see my sister, Oruene.
{Look out for part two, starting from when I got to Oruene’s house in NYC, to when I left America for Nigeria in 2024}
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.