Aisosa is one of many Nigerian children born into a polygamous home. His mother had seven children with her first husband before they divorced. She had three more children, including Aisosa, to her second husband. Unbeknownst to her, Aisosa’s father had other wives and mistresses. When the secrets were revealed, problems mounted and Aisosa, his siblings, and his mother were forced out when another wife joined the home.
The four ended up on the street when Aisosa’s mother could not pay rent for a one-room space. They often went hungry and were rarely able to attend school. A relative helped Aisosa’s mother create a small business selling ice cream and used clothing which eventually enabled her to send her children to school.
Aisosa finished secondary school in 2009 but didn’t have money to take the entrance examination to attend a university. He got a job to help his family pay rent and put food on the table, saving enough to enroll for his entrance exam. He earned admission into school, but again resources were an issue.
Aisosa received an A2S scholarship so he could attend Ambrose Ali University where he is currently studying history and international studies and serving as the youth president. In that role, he creates programs to enlighten and empower his peers. Aisosa also plays the keyboard; he started a music school at the university where he teaches his peers how to read music and play musical instruments. He is also a writer and dreams of creating a mobile platform to share books with those who don’t have the money to get the necessary books for their classes.
As Aisosa prepares for a career as a writer and life coach, he recently wrote a poem featured below.
Wars In Our Stomach
Oh war that causeth a lot
for where cometh the strength to sail on air to peace
where cometh the blood to walk on waters
where cometh the smile to fly through the desert
for weakness is my name
gunned by painful guns
arrowed by angry arrows
speared by unmerciful spears
Oh Wilson this we plead
call for peace again for this war is war than wars
our walks are broken
our fists are dead
our eyes are barren of water
fights we have fought win we have never
relieve us our pains and sufferings
on Wilson’s peaceful Wilson’s help our wars