IT'S A CHILD'S WORLD slash THE BACKSTORY OF THE FIRST CACTUS (Part 1)

1. Oasis

2. Arid

3. Barren

4. Oasis

Prologue

I grew up hearing grown-ups arguing about whose world it is. In popular cultures and literature, it is asserted and seemed to be accepted that it’s a man’s world. But I hear others, chiefly educated and otherwise liberated women, contending that this is far from the truth.

It may be a man’s world but history is replete with tales of how some of the so-called globe’s most powerful men have been weakened or downfalled by ordinary women.

Personally, I do not wish to join the lifelong debate. However, I do feel that both genders are guilty of disregarding our significance and place in this world when they contemplate the matter. They must be kidding.

For their information, there are countless untold stories where we proved to be the dominant, if not the solitary force behind the changing and inspiring of mens’ hardened hearts.

From a personal perspective, I must let them know that it was the love of me and my brothers and sisters that motivated our dad to aim astoundingly high and exert undeniably extraordinary efforts to get there. Because of us, the impossible became possible. To better our lives, he turned his back against his bitterness, rebelliousness and wild ways and opted for ambition,drive and life.

Had’nt it been for us he would not have been convinced that he had the capacity to love, endlessly and unchangingly. If we did not become a significant part of his life, he would not have gotten the awareness that he could appreicate, embrace and reciprocate any feeling or act of love directed at him.

It’s his love for us that warmed his his heart and gave him a zest for life. It was only that love that could bring out his innate goodness. Even the UK’s ASBOs, to which he was no stranger, were powerless in controlling his behaviour. If it was for them alone he would not have even attempt to fight against his destiny to be a social scourge.

I am not kidding. It’s A Child’s World.

The quintessential human, his beliefs, emotions and motivations reflected his life experiences and the people that he encountered. He was astonished when he found himself questioning what he was brought up to believe in while starting to embrace other things that others were skeptical about or had renounced.

Some of the people he met were so good to him that he wanted to achieve great things so that he could make them proud and reciprocate their kind gestures. He promised not to ever forget or forsake them. He would find them in time.

Others let him down, gave him up, dissapointed and watched him fall when they could help. They may have remembered him from time time but he was bent on giving them the ultimate reminder, in time.

But since his own mother and father were not there for him, he believed no one else owed him anything. Besides, each closed door was closely followed by windows of opportunities. Inspite of himself and the stupendous odds that were fiercely stacked against him, he had had numerous second chances and had things both ways and his ways.

The absence of his own parents in his upbringing taught him independence and self-reliance. So although hardly any came his way, he resented the notions of hand outs, luck or good things on a platter. He wanted to chart his own course and earned his own.

Unfortunately, some made fatal mistakes by commiting what he considered the most heinous sins against him. He swore down pay back was on the table.

He had no intention of hunting them down, he had his priorities, but if they were unlucky enough to come face to face with him again, world war three would erupt. And he would win.

Every day he prayed that they were praying that he would have a change of heart before a second encounter occur. His unashamed unsaintliness should have forewarned them that he would be unrelentlessly and unrepentantly unforgiving.

All acts of betrayal, double-crossings, loss and hurt meted out to him and those close and dear to him, would have to be dealt with, disproportionately. He was bent on that.

Unlike his wayward chums, he yearned for the quiet life; settling down with a special girl and raise his kids, but he was convinced that he was ill-equipped and his makeup was too tightly wound up to be loosened.
He fought assiduosly to make it a reality, but despite the signs, he refuse to accept that he was fighting a loosing battle.

He finally realized that he was not cut out for the public affection, the romantic stuffs, pushing baby trolleys, changing diapers etc. It broke his heart, because he wanted to do those things so badly. No amount of re-invention could help him. Only reincarnation offered some prospects, but that was unrealistic. However, he refused to give up.

Up to age thirteen, nan, who he adored and loved dearly, was the only parent that dad knew. With no help from his dad, he dropped out of school a year later. He became the boy Cinderella. At one point he tried to run away because he could not take the suffering anymore.

The first time he saw his mom was when he was 16 years old. To his bitter horror, he discovered that he was one of two love children that she had for his real dad who she told him about when he was 21. Dad met him seven years later. His older brother who shared name with one his dad,s matrimonial sons, was far from keen about it.

His mom was either unlucky or foolish in love because none of the men who fathered her kids was any good.

Dad moved around from family members to family members and strangers so many times and so rapidly that a penpal he had then called him a "real traveller." It hurt him deeply because it painfully reminded him of his lack of belonginess.

Despite occasional homelessness, he shone at the evening school for teenagers who sought a second chance at education. Unable to pay his tuition, he was kicked out. Nard, his 'cousin' who he grew up with like brothers, was murdered and it devastated him. Later, he also lost his mate, brother and father figure. The trend continued. At the tender age of 16, even he had a brush with death while fending for himself.

He had hardly gotten better when he was pounced upon by an a grown man who tried to seduced him with eloquent letters and twenty pound notes. Couple years later as he became more involved in arm wrestling, a well-known male arm wrestler who knew of dad's adverse situation, tried to take advantage of him by offering him things.

Anguish and bitterness seemed to have made him ignore his promise to be there for their kids. Even though he knew that he was the only one who they could rely on, nothing could make him consider turning over a new leaf. But my birth did.

We became his inspiration , motivation to achieve and , most importantly, his reason to live. We were his priority. Everything else played a second fiddle. Everything.

Amazingly, he somehow managed to go back to school and came out on top. Today, we all share his home, heart and name. He had always promised me that he would provide a home where we could all live together as a family. When I spoke to my other brothers and sisters that I got to know in Toronto, they said that he told them the same thing also. We are happy that he did what he had promised. However, at times, we cannot help wishing that he was here with us or if it was possible to see him even once again. The last time I saw him was just before he left for Toronto.

This is not a story of my dad, the comeback kid. He was never there. Instead, it is the story of my dad, who was never there but made it there eventually through long suffering and great sacrifices. This is the story of how he did it, not for himself, but for us, his little pride and joy. Neither is it the typical rags to riches story. My dad did'nt even have rags.

My dad's life was a bitter struggle. Brought up without even the basics, he fought assiduously to make it better for us. Notwithstanding his plight, he gave us his all. His heart and his life, which he commited to us. He cared so much that he would have gone naked just to ensure that we were ok. That's an understatement.

I am happy that he is my dad. However, I feel sad for every child in this world with whom this proud sentiment does not resonate. It's a tragedy that a child has to wish someone else was his or her dad. That's a real shame, I think.

Hiya. It's ok to call me Gem. That's the name that dad probably would have given me had he had the chance. How do I know? Well, that's how he treated me; like a real gem. He is equally very special to me.

Just in case you were not made aware of it, It's A Child's World, the prodigious television format, has taken the world by storm. Since it took off in North America, broadcasters across the globe has been clamouring for it, owing to its immense popularity and mass appeal. It has been revered by industry experts as the next best thing since the advent of reality TV. Tellingly, at the recent Global Television Awards' ceremony, it scooped up some of the most prestigious accolades, International Award, Viewers Award, Expert's Award and, last but not least, the Thoughtful Award. The latter is the most important to my dad's legacy because it is the thoughtfulness of the format that distinguish it from other formats or reality shows.
However, no one in the media or the public knew the name or the face of the creator behind it. That's my dad. He did not care too much about his story being told, but if it had to, I gathered that he would have preferred it to be told by his little gem when she was old enough. He wanted the truth to be told first. You see, not many people would believe that the format was the brainchild of a man they had seen appearing on television earlier in his life for all the wrong reasons.

One of the first television corporations that approached my dad's representative about launching the programme made it mandatory for all background information about the creator to be made available. The intention was that the creator would front the programme as was the norm back then. However, the representative, fully aware of dad's disdain for creators who fronted their programmes, he declined. Well, he was not that mild, to be honest. He told the corporation to get lost.

Even dad himself would have been so surprised to hear that my story about him would revolve around the format that he had dreamt up. Most importantly, the same format which had endeared him to the hearts of literally millions of people from all walks of life across all the continents.

As far as he was concerned, he was just doing all the little things within his power, with the little or nothing that he had, to make a home and provide a better life for us.

Little did he know that the same little things would snowball so enormously that none of us will ever have the kind of life that he endured. Not us, our children or their children. The cycle has stopped. Thanks to his determination, long-suffering and ambition. He would thank us for being his inspiration. He always accepted that things could have turned out differently if we had not entered his life.

Anyway, this is not so much about the empire; it's about the adverse weather conditions he was exposed to in his upbringing and young adultwood and how he weathered them.

So, three months away from my eighteenth birthday, here I go. He came into my life when I was about 6 years old. It's a long story why it only happened then. But I promise, you will know. The story about him is also a long one. Guess what? You will know it too. Not the long and short of it, but the whole. Okay, not quite. The only bit that has been cut out are the parts that are suitable only for grown-ups. You know how grown-ups are already. Very protective. Some of them.Sometimes I wish they were able to protect us from the media. Anyway, that's another story.

Dad never leave me for long since we met. Always coming around bringing money, food and clothes. And his love. Not just for me, but also for my big sister, my little brothers and step brother. All from two other relationships that my mom had. One before dad, and the other after him.

He did that until I was almost nine. Then he said he had to leave for media training in Toronto. His desire was to fulfill his dream of becoming a television producer so that he could make life better for me.

He was fascinated with television from his early teens so he was committed to carve out a career in that field. Thwarted in his efforts constantly, however, he had given up on it loads of times. This was because the harder he tried to make it happen, the more elusive it seemed. He just could not be bothered anymore.

Therefore, he vowed never to try for it again. Instead, he opted for the wild side of life; street adventures, breaking rules everywhere and creating new ones where there was none etc.

But with my birth and Clare a few years earlier, his dream became alive again. He decided to stop living for himself and start living for us.He expected his new attempt to be much harder but having us as his first inspiration, with more in the years ahead, he was determined to achieve his ambition.

However, dad wanted to leave for other reasons. He was almost 20 and had spent almost every one of his teenage birthdays in detention or facing the courts. Sometimes he was innocnet, sometimes he was not. Out of school at 14, suffering hard times and found he could not run away like other unhappy and abused kids, he got caught up in the wrong crowds and developed a penchant for doing the wrong things.

He has been given so many red cards that his name should have made the Guiness Book of world records. I should have a look.

It was not a welcomed decision among his friends and family, but he was adamant about his dream. It was with mixed feelings that he turned his back on arm wrestling that he adored, the street fights and a dead-end job and flew on a one way ticket via British Airways with his twin rotweilers, into an unknown world. With all the savings he had, he was just not able to afford a return ticket. That awoke him to the fact that, in our interest, he had made the right decision. Otherwise, we would have been destined to follow his fate.

He saw Toronto as the centre of all his hopes and dreams. He would not be around to get in trouble again, so he could concentrate on making himself a better man and a good father. He wanted us to live a decent and good life after going through so much as a child himself. That prospect seemed more elusive the harder he tried and the more he sacrificed. Nevertheless, he was determined to make that model life be a reality to us despite the mountain of odds that were stacked against his efforts.

Life was hard for him back home in london but it was much harder in Toronto. It was difficult to train nine to five with the broadcasting corporation and work at the same time. But he had no choice. He had to survive. Most importantly, he was committed to doing his very best to give us the life he never had, even while preparing himself for his career.

He wrote and called me as often as he could under the circumstances. He always ended our conversations with "I love you".

I learnt alot about him over the years but after what happened, I felt there were much more about him that I needed to know. I felt that my opportunity to get to know him better was lost.

There was no doubt that he was a doting dad to us. But I wanted to know more about his life experiences, his way of life and what he was thinking.

I am certain he never lied to me, but there were half-truths and other things that he kept from me because he thought was I was not old enough to understand and he did not want me to have any concern as a child.

Last summer, I went on a trip to Toronto. It turned out that it was his desire for me to visit there first. I was pretty chuffed and excited when his aunt sent me the ticket but she never explained anything to me until when I got there.

She explained that it dad wanted me to meet the rest of his family, especially her, his friends and the people who he lived, trained and hang out with. She also gave me the details of some folks back in london that he wanted me to meet also. They include his dear nan, folks he went to school and work with etc. So my opportunity was not lost after all. It was only after I had met all of those people that had first hand experience with him that I understood why it was so important for him.

I discovered that he had many sides and very few people were aware of everything about him. He allowed very few to know him inside out. Because he did not have things so wonderful both as a child and as a grown-up, it made him very private. Aunty, was one of the few people who knew quite a good deal about him. She was very close to him so he was very open with her.

I spent the entire summer among them. Talking at length to each of them on a one to one basis, I got the full picture of him by putting all the different sides that I got, together.

I needed to know more about my dad not just for myself but also for the many brothers and sisters that he fathered but I knew nothing about until I went to Toronto. They were actually my distant cousins, aunt, his childhood friend's children, his friend's children, his classmate's child. He took them over when he saw them growing up lacking, as he did as a child.

Even though most of them were actually living in Toronto, they knew far less about him than me. Either because they were too young to know anything about him when he was around or because they never live near to or with him. He merely visited them from time to time during the years. When they grow up, I am certain they are going to want to know more about him also.

Of course, I could wait until I have completed university. I am about to start. Everyone would be more inclined to tell me everything, even the grown-up bits. But I think that the sooner I do it, is the better. Importantly, Aunty said that dad had stressed that I do it as soon as possible. So the time is now.

My brothers and sisters are growing up fast. Dad would want them to know more about him before they become adults. Personally, I just could not stand the idea of having to wait longer to learn more about him. It is very hard for me already.

Besides, with so much things going on in the world, who is to say that all of these people would still be around when I am a grown-up. And even if they are around, they might be unable to remember everything or even to speak because of illness or something else. My teacher did not call me precocious for nothing.

Everyone believed Dad was born to be bad, therefore, incapable of changing. He proved them wrong once before when he left for Canada. But he had no idea that he would have to face even worse situations which forced him back into his old ways.

Despite that, he was serious about proving everyone wrong again. So he tried hard to be a better person, not so much to please them. Instead, he wanted to be a father that we could look up to and be proud of. In other words, he wanted to be the father that he should have had when he was growing up.

By now, based on what you have heard so far; the tip of the iceberg, you might have already conclude, that it does not bear the hallmark of a beautiful story. Far from it if you ask me. But I feel compelled to tell it like it is. Frankly, I dont believe it would have pleased my dad or done him any justice had I elect to tell it any other
way.

Barren

Petite, unflatteringly shaped and having just average looks, I was his most unlikely companion and confidante for most of his latter teenage years.

Hard to believe I suppose, but far from being superficial, he appreciated me to the core. You see, it took something deeper and more meaningful than empty attributes to cement a lasting relationship with such a special person as I found him to be.

He took care of me because I meant the world to him. I was more than a presence. To him, I was a constant companionship of fun, excitement, laughter and inspiration. Those were paramount and definitive to him.

His cousin Judy had brought me from the U.S for a short holiday, but after observing how easily he had connected with me because I was music to his ears, she decided to let me stay with him on her return.

Needless to say, he was over the moon and so overcame by emotions that he unashamedly admitted to her that I was his first and most cherished present.

However, George, Judy's brother, whose eyes had caught me, wanted me for himself. So as soon as he had heard that Judy had left, he went to Kaimi's house and snatched me away. Too bad, I could'nt have a say in the matter.

Billy was gutted and furious. Unsurprisingly, it didnt took him look to come looking for me. He had fire in his eyes and trembling fists. With a ranging fury, he lambasted George for his apparent jealousy and underhandedness.

However, despite the exchange of harsh words that ensued, George bluntly refused to hand me over. A raging storm brewed between them for weeks until it was eventually quelled by Judy's telephone call from the U.S. She had a go at George for his misdeed.

Reluctantly, George allowed me to be reunited with Billy.

We became inseperable over the years. Our bond grew and grew until, as he stated on numerous occasions, it became psychological.

It was almost impossible for him to leave the house without me. Human beings tend to be forgetful at times, but very rarely did he forget to take me with him. And when he did, I could bet my bottom dollar that he would return for me, no matter how far he had reached or even if it meant that he would be late for his intended destination.

Only if I had no energy and he had no money to replenish me would he deliberately leave me behind. When we were out, everyone that he met, could reasonably infer that I was his earth, because he either kept me close to his heart or held on tightly to my tiny frame.

Well, Why was I such an important figure in his life. It's not merely owing to the foregoing descriptions. You see, I have witnessed one of the dark, bittersweet periods in his life that he hardly spoke about.

He had just ran back to Nan's home after enduring sever hardship with his dad and step-mother. His attempt to run away from them was a fiasco.

Still recuperating from his near death experience from the previous year, he had taken on a job at a chicken farm in Reading. It was there that he had a major fight with Anthony, the best friend he ever had. Anthony was from a poor background also and he was abused by his dad. The two met while dad was learning Carpentry and Joinery at the Reading Trade Training centre. They became inseperable.

In fact, it was dad who got the job for Anthony on the chicken farm, but something happened and they fell out for the first time. Anthony left the job.

There was a robbery and dad was wrongly implicated by his supervisor, one of the marked men on his list. After the police released him, he wrote Nan and tell her he would be coming back to her.

The school he used to attend just before he went to London had refused to re admit him. At 16, the admittance staff said it was too late for him to join.

He even try to change his date of birth on his school report from his last school in London, to make him appear younger, but even that failed. They were fully aware that he was just trying it.

He started growing some strawberries and other fruits and vegetables and helping Nan with the animals. However, that was insufficient to maintain himself or help with the bills. He started looking for farm jobs in his locality but no luck.

Nan was not complaining but he just was not comfortable not being in school or working.

He went to look for one his aunts in Coventry. She was with Nan the day his mom gave him to nan in Borough market. He was even living with her briefly afterwards, but she returned him to nan. She could not manage or take care of him financially. But she loved and accepted him as her own. She had four kids at the time.

During his visit, the news came that Nan's last surviving aunt had died. Dad heard that nan was already at the family home so he decided to join her. He had gotten an apple picking job, so he had to ask his boss for permission to leave..........