At the age of 20, I was
a headstrong young woman who thought, “I know everything.” I did not realize my
naiveté until I found myself in tears on the Lagos State, Nigeria Turnpike,
and 20Kobo in my pocket and a Ghana most go bag full of clothes and shoes; I
wore a baggy jean, fitted top with long braid hair (We called that kind of hair style Bob Marley in those days). At the Lagos to Ibadan express
toll road I looked like a 12 year old girl with no ambition in life.
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