So on one of those days I hung my head and claimed life had ended for me, I walked past Gbolahan. He lives right across my house and was in class with one of my elder ones. I heard he was very brilliant but I’ve known him to be a chronic drunk for at least 15 years…His case was worse than a mad man. He’d drink ‘ogogoro’ all day, get beaten up and slapped by passersby, get hit by vehicles and then walk/shout all over the street all night. He barely slept and on the days he did, he would sleep in any ‘maruwa’ he finds parked behind my house. He practically had no life outside his bottle of gin.
God laid it on my heart to talk to him and I was surprised that he listened. I’ve paid a nearby ‘buka’ to have him fed twice a day, bought him a sponge, soap and toothbrush. Went to check on him every morning and evening, drove him to church in my car, gave him some place to sleep and found him something to do. I dont want him to be dependent o me so i handed him over to someone else to teach him personal hygiene and a bit of social skills.
He still needs bedding, clothes, money for feeding etc.
Source: Olorunfunmi Adebajo/Facebook