I was born to good parents. Amazing parents. But we did not have money. What we had was a father who loved to read, who taught me to read early, and who made sure I had everything I truly needed. And we had a mother whose love held us all together. Much of who I am today began with the two of them.
Getting to school meant walking — about five to six kilometres there and the same back again. By the age of ten or eleven I was also working to help support my parents: carrying blocks on building sites, and making and selling Zobo, soya milk and buns from a trolley to help my mother keep the family going.
I finished secondary school with a very good result. But there was no money for university. So I gave that season to God, serving as a full-time missionary in Akwa Ibom, Nigeria, and in Freetown, Sierra Leone.