Chapter 1

My name is Temple Oluwafimidara-iyanu Abayomi.

Don't ask me about the Temple name (My sisters have way worse names than mine), I dont know why I'm called that except maybe it had something to do with my mothers super devoutness to God and all things churchy. The Oluwafimidara-iyanu though, I love, love, love! Its literal meaning is God use me to do wonders. My friends call me Fimidara or just Dara. My mother however, insists on calling me Temple.

I was supposed to be a somewhat privileged girl. I have two elder siblings who I supposed will do almost anything for me. My mother was loving and doting and she raised us in the knowledge of the bible. My father, though he wasn't really around through much of my growing years, I really want to believe that he loved me in his own little way as well. However, I guess I had some lessons to learn in the course of my life before I would truly become who I was created and born to be.

My home life was perfect. As perfect as you could expect when you were the last born and your family was financially comfortable. We lived in a four bedroom flat with each of us having our own room. Teenage heaven!

My mother has always been a business woman, traveling to buy goods to stock her shop. This is not to say that my mother abandoned us kids. Far from it in fact! She was a besotted lover of kids. Hers or others, it doesn't really matter. My mother could amputate her arm if it meant her children would be okay. I have heard my dad complaining about it the few times he was home.

My father works for a big engineering company. He was one of those people you would call a genius in his field and was rarely at home to see us kids. We could go months without seeing him at home. Whenever he was home though, that's another kettle of fish entirely. He snaps at us for every little mistake and even disapproves of mother buying things for us. My father was not a wicked man. No! He just considers things like buying several clothes or shoes at a time, snacks or toys an unnecessary spending of money and believes it was the fastest way of spoiling us kids.

On one particular occasion, he seized the new clothes my mother bought for us, hid them and completely forgot about them until we found them about a year later. They had become too small for us. We therefore learnt to hide our new toys or clothes whenever we knew he was coming to visit. The atmosphere is always stifling whenever my father is around. This happened till he finally stopped coming home at all. This does not mean I didn't love him though. I mean, he's my dad!

Now let me tell you about my siblings.

My eldest sibling and my parents first born is an energetic, beautiful and overall dazzling lady. Pillar Ebunoluwa (God's gift), that's her name. We all just call her Ebun (gift). She is a real gift to our mother too. She is caring, attentive and makes her relaxed and worry free. She is also exceptionally brilliant and hardworking too. It's no secret that both my parents adores her. In fact, it makes the rest of us feel like extras in a one-man show.

Her only flaw is that she has a terrible anger and she says or does things she ends up regretting when her anger calms down. When she is angry, I'm pretty sure she can lift a building. Just kidding! She gets really strong though. Once she has said her mind, or has beaten you to a pulp, her anger fades instantly and she acts like she didn't just blow you away, literally sometimes!.

Our second born is more laid back. She hides behind our elder sibling and I do not blame her. I would too. I mean, when you are thinking of sweeping the sitting room only for you to find out that its already swept, and virtually all the house chores are done, you begin to feel more or less useless.

Because of this, Tabernacle Oluwabukunolami (God has added to my wealth) (see what I mean with the name?) is the most reserved person I know. I suppose I would be too if I were saddled with a name like Tabernacle! She doesnt like to be called that though so we call her Ola (Wealth). She can be in the house with you for hours and you won't know it because she is probably in a corner reading. Her reading gives her sound mastery of English language and she can mimic any accent she hears almost perfectly. It wasn't long before she also started attempting to write- a story, an article. She eventually started applying to different literary competitions and became known somewhat as a literary genius. In her own way, I suppose she dazzles too.

It's very tough to be born after these two. Seriously!. One is the darling of our parents and every other parent around. Girls want to be her, and if they can't, they hate her. Boys wants to date her and since they respect their level, they either ignore her or try to form cool around her.

The second one doesn't even want to be friends with anyone. She is the darling of teachers both in the school and in the church. Parents wants their children to be like my sisters and I always looked to them with awe and probably a little form of hero worship. It probably didn't help that they were both very light skinned and I decided to take on the dark complexion of our maternal grandmother. Like seriously!

My sisters adore me though. Who wouldn't? I was their baby. The last born. The baby of the house. I was born ten good years after Sister Ebun and seven after Sister Ola. The sister thing was instilled by my mother as soon as I could pronounce their names properly. My elder sister, Ebun, goes out of her way to make me happy. Whenever she is opportune to have a little spending cash, she always remembers to buy me a little something- food or clothes or snacks or junk food. That's Sister Ebun's specialty. Sister Ola, though, feeds my intellect. Every outing or birthday sees her bringing me some novels or book series or some other literary wonder. Most of the magazines and literature I've read are all due to her. Either the ones she buys for me, or the ones she left lying about the house. And I have to tell you, there are many of them.

So you see, my problem did not really stem from my home life. Except maybe the competition and subtle resentment that my sisters unknowingly fostered in me. I wished to be like them. My mother probably didn't help matters as she was always comparing my character to theirs.

You would always hear something like, "Temple, can't you be a little like Ebun? She doesn't just lie around like you are doing. Get up and do something!", "Temple, can't you read like Ola?" or, "Temple, you have good role models in your sisters, be like them!" When they eventually gained admission, it was so much worse, "Temple, how can you gain admission when you can't even read like Ola" or "Temple, Ebun did not give me this much stress when she was your age".

I decided to carve a niche out for myself. To be better than them and in taking steps out of envy, I didnt seek guidance. I walked brashly.

I mis-stepped.

It all started like this

Due to a fluke of bad luck or bad government, my mothers shop of almost 10 years was demolished and we were only able to save very few of the goods in it. This led to a series of cataclysmic effect. Inflow of cash became stilted; my father stopped coming home; I still can't understand how mum's shop affected his coming home. He just stopped! Who abandons their children to their jobless wife? My father, that's who! The loss of the shop finally led to us relocating from Lagos to my mothers uncompleted building in what I considered a village at the time.

Our new residence was located at a far corner of Ogun state and none of my siblings liked the place especially my eldest sister. Luckily for her, she didn't have to stay there for long before she gained admission to the university. I was in primary school at the time of our relocation.

After my primary education at one of the private schools nearby, my mother enrolled me to start my secondary education at a public school in our locality which was reputed to be leading academically at the time. We had a lot of students in my school. I believe we would be about a thousand students, if not more, thereby encouraging vices of different forms. I suppose if you want to actually study and be the best, there are opportunities for it at this school and if you want to be a dullard, come to school just to play and make friends, there are also various opportunities for it as well.

As it were, that's where my problems started.

Seeing my friends bringing large amounts of money to school, I always wondered how they got it. Whenever they brought such large amounts, they would buy me food, drinks and junk food. Eventually, one of them wanted to know if I intend to just keep on collecting without contributing my own quota. I was in JS2 at this time and just about 10 years old. Gradually, I started pilfering little amounts of cash from my mothers handbags and purses. It graduated till I started taking large amounts as well. I became more adept than even the people who made me start in the first place that soon, they had to start asking me how I got the money. I can remember telling them on one of those occasions that I had a twin abroad that was responsible for sending me the cash. Foolish me!

Of course, my mother noticed, started searching my bag before I head to school everyday and I had to create different inventive ways to hide the money I was stealing to school. Sometimes, mum catches me. Other times, she discovers after I might have left for school. See, my mother has a gift. The gift of sight or the gift of knowledge. Anyone you chose to call it. She sees things that would happen or is happening. Sometimes, she sees things thats happening. With this gift, I would have gotten to school sometimes and already spending the money when Ill suddenly see my mum looking at me having caught me red-handed.

The stealing of petty cash soon graduated to stealing at school too from my peers and went on till mum threatened to come to school to announce on the assembly ground that I was a thief. After that, I had to curb my excesses.

By some stroke of good luck, the rest of my secondary school days was uneventful and I started preparing for my senior WAEC. During this time, my lapper (we stay in the same environments so we split our transport fare among ourselves while we lap each other), Sandra, was found pregnant and several girls in the environment but I wasn't into boys yet. I was 14 at this time. Towards the end of my exams, I was 'pushed' to steal a phone. I don't know what came over me. It wasn't as if I could use a phone in my mother's house if I eventually stole it. My mother is the kind that knows exactly how the biro she bought you looks like.

Anyway, I didn't know that the lady who owns the phone has a prophetess for a mother who threatened to destroy my life. Mum pleaded with the lady and I returned the phone to her but the damage was already done. Mum lost the little trust she had in me and the arrangement that was being made for me to relocate to Lagos with her friend was promptly cancelled. Mum was afraid of what disgrace and embarrassment I would bring to her by living there since I apparently have not changed my ways. No pleading, even from my her friends (since they didn't know the real reason for the change of mind. They thought mum didn't want to miss me. lol) could suffice.

I had to remain in Ogun state with her. I tried to change. I really did but I guess my will was weak. I couldn't resist taking the N200 lying on the sitting room floor or the N500 poking out of the handbag in my mum's room or slipping out one of the N1000 in my sisters' wallets whenever they came visiting and yes, they always noticed the missing money and I always denied it, swore to it even, so they'll have to drop interrogating me but eventually, my mum's sight or intuition will kick in and she will beat me mercilessly for the money but I couldn't stop. I may lay off it for a couple of days, weeks even, but soon, I was at it again. Mum always warned me of the implication of what I was doing and how it will affect me when I gained admission.

As it were, she shouldn't have worried because I had a long way to go before gaining admission.