I’ve been struggling my entire life, but I trust that God will still do me well

I am not sure of my date of birth. 

I know that my father died when I was little, and my mother, who was one of his wives, took her own children to Ohaji, where her older sister lived. I am the last of her four children, two males, two females, who survived till adulthood. She traded in fish used for banga (soup).

I know that I tried enlisting as a Biafran soldier to fight in the Nigerian Civil War, but it was not about the fourth attempt that I succeeded. On the three previous times, I was sent away for being too small. The fourth time, because I had learnt how they used to select the soldiers, when the officer shot on the ground, I was the one who did not shake; I stood like a dry stick. Others who shook were asked to leave. I was in the Residential Police during the war.

My name is Innocent Nnugha and I am from the Orlu area of Imo State.

After the war ended, in 1970, I was home for about a year, hawking cigarettes, sweets, kolanuts, from one motor park to the other in Owerri.

In 1972, some federal troops who were going to supply food to people in Aba stopped where I and two boys were and asked if we would be interested in going to Lagos. I indicated interest. They said we should wait for them. Truly, they came back and picked me and one of the boys:  that is how I came to Lagos. My mother did not even know. 

The army man handed me over to one widow who lived on Herbert Macaulay Road, Ebute Metta; Mrs Adegoke, by name. I do not know the relationship between the soldier and the woman or the kind of arrangement they had, but I was with this Mama as a housemaid for some years before I left. There was a soldier who was also living in the compound who was a friend to the one who brought me from Owerri. 

After I served Mrs Adegoke, I fell into the hands of one man who was a seller of Indian hemp. He told me not to be afraid. Well, I was not but that was not my idea of work. I stayed with him for about two months helping his wife to sell petty, petty things.

I moved from here to be carrying load at Iddo Park. At night, we would spread mats made from cartons on the floor and sleep. I have suffered in this life, but God has kept me alive. 

As fate would have it, I encountered my older brother, somewhere in the same Ebute Metta. 

I soon moved in to live with him, for about six months, at Araromi Street, Orile Iganmu. Unfortunately, he is late now. He died from complications of asthma attack. 

The journey of my life took another twist when one Canadian who was working for Piedmont Plywoods, met me at Oko Baba in Ebut Metta, said he liked me, that I was a good boy, and that he would get me a job in the company. 

He gave me transport fare to come to Benin City. Their factory was at Idogbo, along Sapele Road in the city.

That appeared like a dream to prosperity that I had been hoping for. 

I went to Iddo, boarded a vehicle and I landed at Iyaro Motor Park, Benin City. Then I found my way to 155, Ekenwan Road address which the oyibo man had given me. He was the chief accountant and he was powerful in the company.

He was happy to see me. In fact, he was excited. He gave me a warm welcome. He asked the steward to take me to my room and that I should have a shower and freshen up, and after that get served a good meal. The steward prepared a meal for me which had a fat chicken on top. You know how it is when you go to a place newly? I ate a little of what I was served even though, if I was left alone, I would have finished everything. That must be the steward’s luck that night. 

But a surprise awaited me.

Back in Lagos, there was a beautiful woman I had seen with this White man. 

I saw this same woman when I arrived at the White man’s house. She was nice to me. But she was not living in that house. 

Anyway, that night, being also new in the place, and an old soldier, I did not sleep deeply. I had one eye closed, one eye opened.

Then around one to two am, I felt some movement in the room. When I opened my eyes, I saw this oyibo with a wrapper tied around his loins. What went through my mind at first was whether he came to cut my head but he was not holding any weapon. Then, he sat on my bed and tapped my feet. He changed his voice as if he was talking to a woman. He made gestures to me indicating that we should have an intercourse. I rose from the bed, and told him, “Master, we cannot do that. I am a Christian and it is forbidden.” Then, I asked him about the beautiful woman I had seen in the apartment He said that he was not into women but men. So that he could leave me alone, I told him that I would help in the search for men for him. 

The next morning, he drove me to Idogbo, and despite my refusal to have him sleep with me, he still gave me a job as a store assistant. Many of the workers I met there who had craved to work in the store, were not happy that this White man brought a new person to work in the store. 

They went and reported him to the owner of the company but this man was powerful. He was in charge of the company's money.

Anyway, he moved me from the store and sent me to Idanre to be working with the people who cut the timber used for the plywood.

I ended up spending about one year and nine months in Idanre. I ate plenty  pounded yam, bush meat and mixed with the good people of Idanre. Life was good.  

I went to the east when I left Piedmont, and my family said that I should go and learn a skill. 

I then found my way to Port Harcourt where I learned arc welding for three years-plus at No 3 Ekwe Street, Mile 3, Diobu. 

When I got my freedom, I returned to Lagos.

I worked as a Danfo bus conductor for a while to save up money to buy an arc welding machine. I bought it at IGL which used to be at Ijora, but now at Oshodi. I was still a bachelor.

When I bought the machine, I started doing cane chair using curved iron rod at my small workshop in Orile Iganmu. I abandoned the welding after about two years when exposure to infrared light began to affect my eyes. 

After this, I worked as a cleaner at NEPA Training Centre, Ijora.

When this was over, I found my way into BAGCO, where they made sacs, and I was trained as a weaver. I was here for roughly six years before I got swept away by redundancy. It was during my period at BAGCO that I got married to a lady from my village who had come to Lagos on holidays with her relation. We have seven children: six boys and one girl.

I used to spend my off days in the Finishing Department of a printing press owned by someone from our own town. I was one of the collators.

After BAGCO, I worked with United Spinners at Festac (Festival Village) Extension. 

It was from there that I became a private security guard at Technocrime Security Limited, later at another company  and now Octagon, which I have been working with since 2010.

I have been struggling all my life, as you see me, but I trust that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob on I lay my spirit and my hand and comings and goings will send me help, sooner or later. I can be reached via +234 9163380667.