Diary of a Naija Kopa (12)

My father passed while I was still a baby, so growing up, I barely called anyone daddy. As simple as it looks, calling someone daddy used to be a difficult thing for me to do.


However, hearing my foster father answer whenever I say “dad” makes me feel something I can’t describe. My foster mum grooms my hair even more than I do. She reprimands me when I’m wrong, talks freely with me, and has been nothing but good to me.
Truly, if meeting my foster family isn’t a blessing, then I don’t know what it is!

Another opportunity to see Mercy showed up. We had a general CDS group hangout where Financial Inclusion members all over Oyo state gathered. I saw her and other corps members whom I haven’t seen since we left camp. It was great to see them again.

I saw Olamide after a while of not seeing her too. We did a photoshoot together with our khaki.

October is still on, but the service year is getting to a wrap.
I can’t say it was all smooth and rosy, but I can say I made sure to savour every moment. I’m coming out of it stronger, wiser, and healthier than I went in. God kept His Word; I wasn’t faced with any temptation that was beyond me.

I’m grateful for all the connections, relationships, and favour I’ve been enjoying. I found help whenever I needed one. I’ve never been stranded. I never slept hungry. My older relationships did not suffer because of distance. I did not receive any bad news from my family at home. My business thrived. Oyo state did not swallow me.

I’m so in awe that the One who holds the world together, still knows me and takes care of the tiniest detail of my life.

It’s the end of one phase, and the beginning of another.

Nigeria is mine, Nigeria I served!

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