Notwithstanding that I grew up in the village, I’ve been privileged to meet a whole lot of people and get enough exposure to last me my lifetime. Perhaps, that’s why I look at life from so many angles.
When I write that my father is a farmer and my mother, a petty trader, people hail me for being real.
I had my primary, secondary and tertiary education in Ebonyi state and never got to spend more than one consecutive month outside Ebonyi state, until I went to the law school last year.
I boarded my first flight last year and I went on my first holiday alone, this year.
We got our first television set when I was 16. I’d won a DVD player during a competition at Unity FM and that was enough motivation for my folks to get a TV.
The above are my reality. They are normal to me. I see no big deal in them. I don’t feel less or higher than anyone because of my reality.
In law school, I had a friend whose father’s name is a household name in the Nigerian transport system. He had his primary and tertiary education in the UK. He works with a multinational company and earns in foreign currency. He’s in his mid-twenties. He told me that he knew nothing about the recession and really, looking at him, it was none of his business.
I had two other friends who never ate from the school canteen. They spent at least, N6,000 daily eating out. It was no big deal for them.
I have friends here who never travel by road unless there is no airport close to their destinations. They can never be caught going on road trips unless it’s for fun.
Some people grew up in families where they had everything done for them. Drivers who drove them around. Cooks who made their meals. Cleaners who cleaned their houses and probably did their laundry and dishes. All they did was just to live.
There are families that never miss their summer holidays abroad. They visit different countries every year. It’s their family ritual.
There are people here who rock designers wears down to their undies. I know about five ladies like that. There’s a guy here whose one pair of shoes can feed me for a year.
Some people’s parents are so wealthy that they can comfortably feed your entire family for years.
Some people are so wealthy that the things you consider luxuries are necessities for them.
Your dream could be someone else’s reality. You are definitely living someone else’s dream.
Not everyone posing with red bottoms on Instagram is showing off or leaving a fake life.
Not every girl flying first class is being sponsored by a sugar daddy.
Not every woman paying to have her meals prepared by someone else is lazy and not wife material.
Not every rich boy living a luxurious life is a ‘yahoo’ boy.
Poor/broke people are not the only real people, rich people can be real too.
While I drink my garri with beans, I’m just as real as the girl having her breakfast in Transcorp.
While I bitch about my horrible road trip with Peace Mass Transit, I’m as real as the person complaining about Arik delaying his flight.
When I show off the beautiful gown that I bought from OK for N2,000, I’m just as real as the girl rocking a less beautiful designers gown worth $2,000.
The girl who talks about her parents being farmers is just as real as the boy singing about his father’s N30 billion.
Tboss may just have been as real as Efe in the BBNaija house.
The rich ones are not always showing off, they are being real too. The thing is, our realities differ.

This article was written by :Bibian Chinenye Pius-Urum




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