RESILIENCE

THROUGH
LOVE
 Chapter one
Discovering myself

Love? I never stopped believing in it, but I stopped hoping for it,
I stopped waiting, I stopped searching and longing for love and
affection.
I stopped waiting for it to find me one day, I stopped believing
it’ll come, instead I told myself ‘fairytales aren’t meant for
people like me, they don’t exist in my world, it’s nothing but
truthful lies I made myself believe as a kid’.
Years ago I’d sit alone in the loneliest corners I could find,
ponder over my sadness , reminisce about the traumatic events
in my life, think of all the times my heart was broken and hoped
I’d find true love someday.
But this isn’t just a story about love, it’s a story about
forgiveness, acceptance, self-identity, loneliness and depression.
This isn’t just any story you’ve read in other novels or watched
in a movie, this is ‘my story’ but I don’t even know how it ends,
it’s my life but it’s hard to tell.
I’ve never really had my life go the way I want, but no one
could write my story better than I would, and the only ending I
want, is the one that reads ‘happily ever after'.
My name is ola, not my favorite, but that’s what she calls me.
I’d spare you the long detailed description of myself but keep
five things in mind about me.
I’m very cute, I’m slim, I’m short, I was born with black curly
hair which makes people question my nationality and I’m gay.
I have gender dysphoria so I identify as a boy, although assigned
female at birth.
Anyone dealing with my pain literally understands what I meant
by ‘I identify as a boy’ but not to be partial, I’d break it down in
bits for anyone who is reading this but has no idea what I’m
talking about.
Gender dysphoria is a profound and persistent unhappiness
related to characteristics associated with one’s biological sex,
experienced especially by transgender people.
That’s to say, I’m transgender. I was born female, but there’s
always this voice in my head that says otherwise.
I have always felt trapped in my body, like I’m in the wrong
body. I've lived with this pain all my life. It always felt like I
was incomplete.
I felt ashamed of my body and always felt uncomfortable in
female wears, but I lived in silent pain for as long as I could.
I was as young as four when I first found out, my life had never
been the same ever since, I never saw myself the same way
others saw me.
I literally hated looking at the mirror for years, but I could do
nothing about the void inside of me. I suffered in silence for
years.
I was born into a religiously conservative family. My dad is a
pastor, and my mum didn’t seem too different from him. I am
the fourth child in a household of five siblings, with three elder
sisters and one younger brother.
Identifying as a boy and facing the challenges of being a lesbian
tomboy, my life took unexpected turns.
Growing up, my identity clashed with my parents’ traditional
beliefs. My parents’ homophobia led to strained relationships,
especially with my mother, who never stopped comparing me to
my elder sisters. My attempts to express my true self were met
with rejection and criticism from family, friends, and even
colleagues.
 Chapter two
The struggle within

My phone rang, it was my dad. He called to tell me to come

home because my mum has reported me to him again that I have
been dressing like a boy recently.
I dropped my phone after the call, dejected. My heart was
beating so fast, not because I’m scared of what he’ll say when I
get home, but because I didn’t want him to shatter my heart in
pieces again.
I didn’t want him to sit me down and talk to me about how he’s
disappointed in me and how I’m not a good enough daughter for
him.
I pay less attention to those words my parents always said about
my gender dysphoria, but deep down they hurt me, they push a
sharp knife through my heart, stabbing and stabbing with those
hurtful words over and over again.
Deep down I want to scream out loud, explain to them and make
them understand how I feel in my head.
Some nights I stay up at night and cry, I’d wish my life was
nothing but a long nightmare and perhaps someone would wake
me up someday.
When I was a kid I’d pack my bags and tell myself my real
parents are on their way to come get me. I silently wished and
prayed that I was adopted and my life would start over one day.
Sometimes I’d wish to be knocked down by a truck so I’d lose
my memory and my whole life would reset. Some other times
I’d bang my head on the wall severally and wished my brain
would move and my memory would just reset. I’d be a brand
new person who has no idea about himself, no idea who I am,
what I do, not even my name.
Every time, I told my mum as a kid how I desperately wanted
my brain to reset like a computer, so my life could start over,
she’d tell me, ‘such things don’t happen, if you lose your
memory you’ll run mad'.
Those words would scare the crap out of me, but it never filled
the void nor changed how I felt about myself. The pain, the hurt,
the silence, the voices in my head, it didn’t change any of it, but
I kept on hoping, one day, I’ll be free.
Although I told my dad I wouldn’t be home till weekend, I sat
up with so much heaviness in my heart, and thought about the
worst things that could happen if I went home to see my dad
right away.
He’s going to say a lot of hurtful things, my mum would join in
and remind me how sad and pathetic my life is. They’ll both
give me abusive advice that’d make me feel sad and dejected,
but that’s all anyways.
It’s not like they’d pick a cane and flog me at this age, the worse
are just those painful words, besides, my mum already disowned
me last week, she even blocked my lines, but this is something
I’ve lived with all my life, the burden I’ve carried alone with a
heavy heart for years, it can’t be so bad now, I’ll get over it, it’s
just a matter of time.
As much as I wanted to push meeting with my dad forward, I
thought of the fact that Doris would be leaving by weekend, if I
don’t go see my dad now, I’d have to bear the pain alone by
weekend, so I got up from the bed determined to go break my
own heart and come back to my apartment to cry.
I told myself those words and dressed up ready to leave. I woke
Doris up to tell her about the call and let her know I was leaving,
she gave me a hug and told me to just be calm and everything
will be fine.
 Chapter three
Navigating love and loss

Meeting Doris is the best thing that has happened to me in years.

I know I started writing this book emphasizing that l stopped
hoping for love. I mean I was once desperate for connection, but
my pursuit of love often led to heartbreak.
The weight of my parents’ rejection, the scorn of my old friends,
and the indifference of my colleagues took a toll on me.
Being taken for granted by my ex-lovers turned me into a player,
leaving scars on my heart. I found myself playing the role of a
heartbreaker, unable to trust, after being treated with less worth
by my past lovers.
I gave up on love and stopped believing I deserved to be loved. I
saw myself as nothing but a problem and a burden in the world,
so I avoided being committed in any relationship. It was a
defense mechanism I adopted to shield myself from the pain of
rejection.
Despite it all, a glimmer of hope emerged when I crossed paths
with Doris, a fellow lesbian in search of love and understanding.
She was yearning for attention and affection, she entered my life
filled with hope and so much certainty that I was the right one
for her.
It all started a month after my ex broke up with me for cheating
on her with my roommate. Before you judge my actions, I
always liked my roommate, even before my ex came into my
life.
I was attracted to my roommate and she knew it, my ex knew
that as well, but she said it wasn’t a problem. I guess it was
afterall. Let’s call my ex, olive, and my roommate, Natasha.
Natasha is a short, chubby, fair-skinned beautiful lady. She has
big boobs and she’s caring and strikingly hot looking. She liked
me but wouldn’t date me because of the fear of her homophobic
dad, besides age seem to be such a big deal for her. She was
about 9 years older than me.
After I cheated, Olive and I broke up, she called me toxic, said
I’m manipulative and controlling and that we’re not compatible.
Olive is a tall, fat, dark-skinned girl. She is my age mate,
although already a graduate and just recently completed her
NYSC service year when I met her. She’s strict and stern. Not
really the lovable type of person, or perhaps she didn’t love me
enough to be a lovable person.
After days of apologizing to her yielded nothing, I finally
accepted the sad truth and moved on after crying out my eyes
and promising myself to never date anyone again, until Doris
came into my life.
It was a lonely night, I was online flirting as usual when I
stumbled upon Doris, her vibe seemed so different which made
flirting with her fun, although I had no intention of keeping up
with the drama.
After that night I didn’t intend to keep a conversation with her, I
always avoided talking long with anyone I flirt with, to keep
myself from getting attached, but Doris wouldn’t stop texting
and unexpectedly, I kept on replying to her.
It was few days before I wrote my professional exams, so I told
her I’d be unavailable for some days, she told me she’d wait.
As soon as I finished my exams, Doris was the first person I
spoke to, we FaceTime for hours. I started enjoying this newly
formed bond, although I wouldn’t let my guard down.
My connection with Doris was strong, and for the first time, I
experienced true love and compassion. Few days after we met,
Doris asked me to be in a relationship with her, I was reluctant, I
told her I can’t be with her because I’m toxic, but she seemed
determined, she told me nothing I say can change how she feels
about me. She won’t stop asking, so I eventually agreed.
Doris’s unwavering support, made me embark on a journey of
self-improvement, shedding the player personality and
embracing vulnerability.
She saw right through my pain and showed me a compassion I
had never known. Her love and acceptance became my lifeline.
Our bond inspired me to mend my ways and become a better
person, shedding my bad attitudes slowly. With Doris by my
side, I pursued my dream and purpose.
But little did I know, it was just the beginning of drama, toxicity,
pain, sadness, heartbreak and maybe, discovering my true self as
well.
 Chapter four
A glimmer of hope

I took bike and headed straight home. I live in the same town as
my parents, but I don’t live with them. I moved out about a year
ago and started living with Natasha in her apartment before I
eventually got mine.
Before then I lived on campus which was hard. I’m not very
good around people, I suck at communication and tolerance, so
living in the school hostel with 5 girls was tough.
I couldn’t have privacy, there was always one drama or the other
daily. I struggled to survive for years. I always told my parents
how much I wanted to live off-campus, but they never listened
nor cared about my reasons.
My mum would give me numerous excuses as to why she won’t
let me live off-campus. My only options were to either come
live with them at home, and take bike to school daily to receive
lectures, or I live on campus with other students.
Living at home with my parents is literally a nightmare. I often
end up depressed whenever I stayed too long at home. No matter
how much I tried to avoid it, I’ll definitely get in trouble with
my parents.
My dad being a very strict retired principal, artistic and
observant. He’d look at every bit of my body that’s not covered
in cloth and notice the most unexpected things.
It could be the unnoticeable love bite I got from my girlfriend,
or the slight change in the color of my hair, or my long nails that
I never seem to cut but always looking clean. Whatever it is, my
dad would spot it eventually and it will become the topic.
He’ll use it as an opportunity to remind me of how pathetic my
life is, how disobedient and stupid I am. He’ll talk and talk and
talk about my bad ways and how I’m so different from the rest
of the family.
My mum being a calm, emotional, smart nurse will lecture me
on everything about womanhood, about how my lifestyle
doesn’t suit the profession. She’d give me a non-stop sob story
of how everything about me always made her sad and
heartbroken.
If only my parents knew how hard my life already is, just having
to deal with dysphoria was bad enough, but the heartbreaks, the
bullying, the inability to hold a stable relationship or tolerate
people, those were a next level kind of pain for me, but I dealt
with all of those in silence.
Like I said earlier, I didn’t have much control over my life, it
was always my parents making every decision and my opinion
didn’t really matter. I got used to being told what to do by my
parents, that I lost sight of my own ideas.
My opinion never really made sense to my parents, it was
always either not religious enough, not cultural enough, or not in
alignment with their way of life, so I got used to living my life
for my parents.
It was hard but every time I dared to complain, my parents have
a way of manipulating me to see them as the superior figure,
leaving me with no other choice than to do whatever they want.
I’d cry in silence when I’m alone and tell myself, ‘it’ll all be
over one day’.
I eventually had to learn a way to live around their tough
decisions. A wise quote says ‘if you wanna be the best, you have
to beat the best’ so I learnt to manipulate my parents too.
When they make tough decisions that I can’t deal with, I
manipulate them to see my own point, and somehow it always
seem to work well, because I put their decision and mine
together and substitute so they don’t know I’m actually trying to
do what I want.
I make it look like I’m doing what they want, but in the way I
want it to be done, and they eventually always believe me and
let me off the hook.
I guess that’s how I became a manipulative person, because my
manipulative behavior didn’t work only at home, it somehow
saves me from a lot, like when I get into trouble with my
lecturers, or when I get into an argument with my mates, once I
see I am losing and I won’t get what I want, I become
manipulative and I seem to be just so good at it.
My manipulative behavior was both a blessing and a curse, but I
just never know which one it’ll be each day.
When I got home, my dad sat me down with my mum and gave
the usual long talk, but this time, it was better and smoother than
ever, they told me I’m old enough now and they can’t be telling
me what to do again.
They said in no time I’ll have my own life. Like insult, like
advice, they told me I’m old enough to be taking care of myself
and my siblings, I’m old enough to have kids and start a family.
My mum as usual started mentioning the names of all the kids
she wished I was like. She compared me with every one of my
mate she knows, even people that are older than me and those
that are younger.
She said she’s tired of everything and she doesn’t know what
she’s ever done to me that I can’t forgive. She said I only bring
her pain and sadness, I was going to cry, but no, I refused to be
manipulated, instead I listened absentmindedly and only talked
when necessary and I chose the best words.
My dad on the other hand made me promise to stop dressing like
a boy, he made me promise that I’ll start braiding my hair, I did
exactly as he asked and told him I promise, although deep within
my heart, I was waiting for the conversation to end.
He tried to persuade me to bring my clothes home so he can
seize them like he has done in the past, but not this time, I
wisely told him I’d sell the clothes online and make some
money to start a business. That didn’t go so well though, but I
found my way of turning the whole conversation to my favor
again.
Night came and my mum said she won’t let me go back to my
apartment, I refused, I said I’m not spending the night under
their roof, despite all their efforts to persuade me to stay the
night, I made it out of the house and took bike home that late.
 Chapter five
Tangled relationships

When I got home, I met Doris cooking. What’d I ever do

without her? She is the best girlfriend in the world.
She was so worried, thinking I won’t make it back home that
night. Her face lit up with happiness as soon as I entered, she
couldn’t wait to know how the conversation with my parents
went. I told her briefly and she was relieved it wasn’t as bad as
we expected.
I sat at my favorite corner in my apartment and watched Doris
cook, suddenly the words my parents said came back to my
mind. The sharp knifes, pushing through my heart, poking and
stabbing me hard.
It was my conscience and guilt. I’m not happy I make my
parents sad every time, I wish I could be all those other kids my
mum compared me to. I wish I could make her as happy as she
deserves.
I remember her words telling me clearly ‘if everyone keeps
complaining about these things and you still keep doing them
believing they’re normal, that means you’re not normal’ but
maybe that’s it, I’m not normal.
I’m nothing like all those normal kids my mother compared me
with, I wish to be like them but I can’t , no matter how hard I try,
that void always live inside me, the voices in my head always
sang a different song.
I want to be normal, but I’ve tried to be for about 20 years now,
but not for a minute have I felt close to normal. I can’t even be
happy like every normal kid.
Every time I became too happy, I get scared that something bad
was about to happen. I struggle with depression everyday of my
life, and unlike all those normal kids my parents compare me to,
I feel like a stranger in my own body.
I can’t even explain how I feel to my parents, they were raised to
believe that boys only kiss girls, and girls only kiss boys. They
believe there are only two genders that exists, but no, for me
sexuality is a spectrum and gender is numerous.
Some days I wake up and don’t even feel like a girl or a boy, I
just feel numb, like I’m not even a person. Sometimes I just
want to be silent. I want the voices in my head to stop, I want to
feel nothing, I want to die and not have to deal with any of this
anymore.
If only my parents knew, if only, but their ignorance and
mentality won’t give them a chance to even hear my side of the
story, nor see right through me and just love me, either as a girl,
or a boy. I just want to feel like I mean something to them
I just want to feel like a person, I just want to be treated like
human. I just want to be loved regardless of how abnormal I
seem.
I want my mum to hug me and say ‘I see you and I love you
regardless of who you are and how you see yourself or how you
feel’.
I want my life to stop being controlled, I want to stop feeling
like I don’t belong. I want my mum to treat me the same way
she treats my elder sisters and my brother. I want to stop being
their problem, I want them to stop making me the cause of their
heart ache.
I wish I would stop running away, I wish I’d run to my mum like
other kids do and hug her, and tell her that I love her. I wish I
could tell her everything, but ever since they found out I’m trans
and I’m gay, my parents and my sisters never looked at me the
same way, and that’s how everything changed.
I isolated myself from the family. I lost interest in relating with
them. I started avoiding close connections with them, and the
most painful part was that none of them noticed I was drifting
away. None of them bothered to ask me why, none of them cared
to know if I was doing okay.
All the times I got my heart broken, none of them ever really
cared about the pain I was dealing with. The times I cried myself
to sleep every night, I lived under the same roof as them, but my
pain was never their concern.
My relationship with my mother grew strained as she constantly
compared me to my elder sisters and other kids.
The weight of rejection, isolation, and societal pressures to
change my identity weighed heavily on me and drove me to
abusive habits, including misuse of drugs, smoking and several
suicidal attempts.
My life was spiraled out of control, and battling with depression,
I yearned for professional help, but my parents’ religious beliefs
barred me from seeking therapy.
Every time I talked about it or someone suggests therapy to my
mother, she’d immediately rebuke it and say I’m not mad, I’m
just refusing to be normal.
If only my parents understood how I feel, we’ll probably be one
big family. I’ll get all the love, support and understanding I
need, but instead, side talks from neighbors, friends and
colleagues always got to my mom, and she constantly chose
their opinions over mine, not caring why I act the way I do, or
what the way out is.
If I tried to explain, they’ll think I’m possessed by a demon or
walking with someone who is and is probably teaching me bad
things.
I kept my distance from everyone, including relatives, as my
mum being a typical African mother derives pleasure in voicing
out to all the relatives for help, once a child starts acting weird,
my case wasn’t any different.
Technically, all her siblings hate the way I am. I remember her
elder sister once took me for deliverance at midnight, claiming
it’s the demon in me that makes me act the way I do.
It was a terrific experience, I slept off on the altar while the men
of God prayed over me, confident enough that I’m not
possessed. It was embarrassing, but it happened years ago and
I’m glad I’ve finally stopped feeling ashamed of it.
Two years ago, I went to Lagos to spend Christmas with my
mum’s younger sister, it was the same topic about how I cause
my mum pain and how disgusted she is seeing that I act like a
man.
The reaction didn’t even hurt as much as the word she said, that
when I was born and I know I’m so desperate to be a boy, I
could have just died as a baby after finding out I’m a girl,
instead of growing up to cause my mother pain.
Those words hurt me deep down in my heart, tears rolled down
my eyes but I quickly wiped them off and told myself, that I
refuse to allow her determine how I feel about myself.
In the midst of this turmoil, despite facing adversity, I found
solace in my younger brother, Sam, who unconditionally
accepted my identity.
Our bond provided a rare haven in a world that misunderstood
my identity. Although it took years. Sam and I have always been
close, we loved each other since we were young.
Even though I am 7 years older than him, I never allowed our
age difference affect our relationship together, but the older I
got, the more pain and more insight I found about myself, the
fear of rejection made me push Sam away.
I was scared to lose our bond and my only friend in the world,
so I started giving him some space, I created a bridge between
us, but Sam never stopped trying to cross that bridge, he never
stopped being my little brother and my companion, he never
stopped loving me.
He tried relentlessly for years to cross that bridge, but the more
he tried, the farther I got away from him, sometimes he’d cry
and ask me why, he’d ask me what changed, as much as I
wanted to explain everything to him, I just couldn’t find the
courage.
He always knew I dress like a boy, he never judged me, he
found it cool and never tried to discourage it, he sometimes even
give me his clothes.
Recently I came out to my brother about having a girlfriend, he
didn’t seem surprised, neither did he seem disappointed, he
accepted me and my girlfriend, even asked to meet her.

Chapter six
Love against all odds
My story didn’t start like this. I recall my mum telling me when
I went home to see my dad, that I didn’t start like this, this
wasn’t how I used to be. I shoved spit down my throat
repeatedly, with each gob of saliva screaming, ‘perhaps you
didn’t know me well from the start’.
I used to be very close to my dad, I wasn’t always manipulative
and stubborn. I wasn’t the bad kid and the black sheep of the
family. In fact, I was the favorite kid.
Remember I said I’m very cute, well turns out I’m the cutest at
home, and my long black curly hair was my parent’s pride.
The sight of my hair drew attention to me, and my beauty got
me so many compliments as a kid, my mum was always so
proud of how other mothers adored me, some even curiously ask
if I’m African American.
It became a pleasure for me so I told people I’m American, my
dad began to call me Americana, and cana for short.
Although I was getting so much attention and was doing well in
school, something in me never felt right. There was this
emptiness in me that just never seemed to be filled.
Sometimes I wanted to be invincible. I hated it when someone
says I’m a fine girl, the girl part always made me angry, but I
couldn’t do anything about it.
I tried to tell my parents about my identity, although my dad
joked with it as a kid calling me a boy, my mom never for a
minute accepted it. She rebuked me every time I said it.
Besides struggling with my gender identity, I suffered physical
and emotional abuse in the hands of my eldest sister, and was
constantly bullied by my peers and my neighbors.
I never stopped trying to fit in as a kid, I never stopped trying to
be like others, the quest to be a normal kid never stopped.
As a kid my mum wouldn’t let me play with other kids in the
compound, she’d tell me I’m nothing like them, I’m different, I
shouldn’t be found associating myself with them.
As an obedient child I’d stay away from the kids in the
compound even though I didn’t know why. My dad would warn
me against playing on the swings with other kids when I’m in
school, he’d tell me it’s dangerous. I obeyed, I always did,
although I dared to disobey one time and it didn’t end well.
It was a hot afternoon, my immediate elder sister Juliet was out
playing with her friends, I think I was about 6 or 7 years. I had a
favorite spot in school, since I had no friends I learnt to enjoy
my solitude.
I’d sit alone under the big weird three in my school playground,
I’d watch other kids play around with their friends, with
jealousy and envy in my eyes, I’d tell myself, ‘one day I’ll have
a friend too’.
I sat at my usual spot that hot afternoon, Juliet left me to hang
out with friends, I didn’t care anyways, I took my pen and book
as usual and started writing.
Writing and drawing were the only things that made me feel
alive as a kid. Whenever I’m not writing, I’m drawing and when
I’m not drawing, I’m busy talking to my toys and teddies,
creating memories in my head, wishing they were mine.
As I sat writing down god-knows-what in my notebook, I saw a
figure standing in front of me, I looked from the feet to the head,
it was Polly, my neighbor’s daughter.
Polly doesn’t like me, not like I know why but she’s always
cruel to me, she and her older brother, Alex, together with other
kids always made fun of me, sometimes they even hit me.
I was always scared around her, but I didn’t stop trying to
befriend her, even though it only constantly led to more bullying
and my mum always warned me to stay away from her, I still
felt like I wanted to be her friend, I didn’t stop trying to talk to
her no matter what she did.
It was a surprise to see her standing in front of me, I asked if she
needed anything, she told me she was bored and she needed
someone to play with her on the see-saw
Until an unexpected encounter changed everything.
I channeled my struggles into determination. He pursued his
studies in nursing, walking a path he initially resisted due to his
mother’s expectations.
As Mide’s love for Doris deepened, he found a new sense of
purpose. The acceptance and peace he’d longed for finally
started to take shape. Though challenges still arose, Mide’s
resilience and newfound stability allowed him to overcome
them, proving that love could indeed conquer all.
To gerard

Reel steel

Good girls
Write a long interesting SEO optimized story about a Nigerian
lesbian tomboy named mide who narrates in details the story of
his life. He identifies as a boy, born by religious homophobic
parents, the fourth child of the five children of his parents. He
explains that he was physically abused by his eldest sister as a
kid, bullied in school, his only friend was his younger brother
Sam who accepted his identity. Suffered rejection from his
parents, friends and colleagues, taken for granted by his ex
lovers which turned him into a player. He is forced to study
nursing like his mother which makes his life harder because he
suffered criticism from his school authority who forced him to
dress like a girl and suspended him from school. He talks about
how he constantly suffered depression but won’t be allowed to
see a therapist because of his parent’s religious beliefs and social
status. He his hated by his mum and his mum’s sisters and
colleagues at work. His mum compares him to his elder sisters
always and pressurized him to change, he started abusing drugs,
smoking and attempting suicide, eventually found true love with
Doris, a lesbian girl desperate for love and attention, Doris treats
him well and he eventually becomes a better person for her and
became a nurse for his mother, he found love and peace.
Write a story about a Nigerian lesbian tomboy named mide who
identifies as a boy, born by religious homophobic parents, the
fourth child of the five children of his parents. He was
physically abused by his eldest sister as a kid, bullied in school,
his only friend is his younger brother Sam who accepts his
identity. Suffered rejection from his parents, friends and
colleagues, taken for granted by his ex lovers which turned him
into a player. He is forced to study nursing like his mother which
makes his life harder because he suffered criticism from his
school authority who forced him to dress like a girl and
suspended him from school. He constantly suffered depression
but won’t be allowed to see a therapist because of his parent’s
religious beliefs and social status. He his hated by his mum and
his mum’s sisters and colleagues at work. His mum compares
him to his elder sisters always and pressurized him to change, he
started abusing drugs, smoking and attempting suicide,
eventually found true love with Doris, a lesbian girl desperate
for love and attention, Doris treats him well and he eventually
becomes a better person for her and became a nurse for his
mother, he found love and peace.
Resilience through love
In the heart of Nigeria, a resilient soul named Mide navigated a
complex journey.

Alongside the challenges of his personal life, Mide struggled

with bullying at school, making him withdraw further into
himself.

Mide’s life took a darker turn when school authorities forced

him to dress against his identity, leading to suspension. The
conflict between his desire for authenticity and societal norms
became a constant torment.

Overcoming the criticism of school authorities, he embraced his

role as a nurse, eventually tending to his mother’s needs.
Through love and perseverance, Mide found the peace he had
always craved. The scars of his past became a testament to his
strength. While societal prejudice still lingered, Mide and
Doris’s love story shone as a beacon of hope for a more
inclusive world. Their journey together served as a reminder that
love, acceptance, and self-discovery could heal even the deepest
wounds.

Title: Unveiling Shadows of the Heart

Chapter 1: Discovering Myself

In the bustling streets of Lagos, Nigeria, lived Mide – a young
woman trapped in a body that didn’t align with her soul. Despite
the religious and homophobic environment she was raised in,
Mide knew deep down that she identified as a boy. Born as the
fourth child in a conservative family of five, Mide’s journey was
one of resilience and self-discovery.

Chapter 2: The Struggle Within

Mide’s early years were marred by physical abuse from her

eldest sister, leaving emotional scars that ran deep. The halls of
her school weren’t much kinder, as she endured relentless
bullying due to her tomboy appearance.

Chapter 3: Navigating Love and Loss

Chapter 4: A Glimmer of Hope

Forced to study nursing like her mother, Mide’s life became

even more complicated. She faced criticism from school
authorities who insisted she dress like a girl, leading to her
suspension. The depression that had been brewing within her
intensified, but societal pressures and her parents’ religious
beliefs prevented her from seeking professional help.

Chapter 5: Tangled Relationships

Chapter 6: Love Against All Odds

Chapter 7: A Beacon of Light

With Doris’s influence, Mide transformed into a better person,

finding strength to pursue nursing as a career – not out of
obligation, but out of genuine compassion for her mother. Over
time, Mide’s relationship with her mother began to mend,
though the road to acceptance was still rocky.

Chapter 8: Love Conquers All

Epilogue: Unveiling the True Self

Mide’s journey was one of heartache, strength, and redemption.

In a society that often rejected those who dared to be different,
Mide’s story showed that authenticity and love could ultimately
triumph over adversity. As he stepped into the light,
unapologetically embracing his identity, Mide became a beacon
of hope for those struggling to find their own path.

Note: The novel provided is a summary and example of what a

story based on the user’s request might look like. It incorporates
elements of self-discovery, adversity, personal growth, and love
prevailing against the odds.