Abeg, don’t rush this one.
First, find something to sip.
Malt? Zobo? Tea?
Or something stronger if adulthood has been dealing with you personally.
Then sit down properly.
Because this is not just a story.
It is Mushin history with white uniforms and dusty socks.
This is about boys who survived:
- morning assembly under wicked sun,
- report cards that caused family meetings,
- teachers whose canes had tribal marks,
- and hunger that made Rice Olóra taste like Christmas rice.
Some of us now enter flights through Business Class.
Some still negotiate with keke riders at Ojuelegba.
Some live in London.
Some live in Lagos traffic.
Some became professors, pastors, doctors, engineers, accountants and CEOs.
And some of our brothers now answer attendance in heaven.
But one thing remains true:
Once an EKO Boy… always an EKO Boy.
So breathe deeply.
Laugh loudly.
And if you see your name here… kindly behave like a superstar.