Steemit Ultimate Challenge 8 Weeks - Week #3 "

I was still a small boy just growing up. I still remember with poignant clarity, then, my father would shout at me every day, every night, perhaps I did some bad, stupid things. My father would whip me with an electric wire just because I made a mistake or maybe I disobeyed them. He would tell me, “See, you will never amount to anything.” Why? Perhaps yesterday, I exchanged words with him. Sometimes, I would greet him, and he would not respond, maybe I frowned when he was scolding or rebuking me. I would do the wrong thing at the wrong time, my parents would send me out of the house, and I would go days without eating, and they would not even think about me, where I would be. They would wake me up at five o’clock in the morning to pray , and I would be angry because I had not slept enough, I would be trying to hesitate, and he would grab the electric wire again and use it on my back, I would run, he would chase till I run out of the house. Sometimes, he would punish me by locking me in my room for three days. I hardly went out to joke with other Umuaka (children). In those days, my opinions would not count, neither my suggestions. My likes and dislikes were trampled upon. My actions would contradict their belief, and they would not pay my school fees. I would want to talk to a girl, and my Mother would tell me, “don’t, stop and focus on your studies.” I would be going for an exam, and because I did something wrong, they would never encourage me, neither would they say, “Good luck.” They never told me the three words: “I love you,” and I never did the same. Both of us found it difficult to say.
And back then, in my high school, I would shy away from students, especially girls. I just couldn’t associate with others. In my mind, imagination, I could, but physically, I could not. And day by day, there was this voice that kept raising the fiction that everybody hated me. I did my damnedest to silence the voice, but all my attempts ended in futility. As a result of my attitude, I was ostracized by many who felt I was unconventional. I would skip classes, miss tests, assignments, etc. and everybody would be wondering why I was doing so. I would not talk to, jest with, look at, or even greet my class mates. It’s not that I did not want to do it. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I was all alone.
A teacher would raise a question, and I would be already shivering. I would feel like the ceiling in my class room should open and let me fly out through it. The teacher would point at me to answer the question, and I would urinate in my school uniform. The problem was not that I didn’t know the question; the problem was that I thought I was no good enough to stay with others. I thought I would stand and say the wrong thing or vomit something that would make other students laugh at me. And finally, I would stand and mutter these four words: “I don’t know it.” Within me I knew I was intelligent, but I just couldn’t express my intelligence. I suffered from depression for years. I had a very low self-esteem, and there was nobody to tell, nobody to lean on. I couldn't tell anybody. At a point, I felt like dying; I felt like changing school. This culminated to my failure in school. Moreover, I got bad results every term, every session.
But right here on Steemit, Communication has changed my life; it has changed who I used to be. My friend, @tonu-duke, got me interested in Steemit on the 8th of January, 2018. I bought a new phone that day, but it was stolen that same day, and since then, I’ve not being on discord. I’ve been using my personal computer for Steemit.
That notwithstanding, I’ve had communications on Steemit that have changed me totally. At least, I’m no more the same person I used to be. It all started when I posted my introductory post. As a novice with the determination to show people what I love doing, I just did my best to organize my words and make them worth reading. Well, I posted it in fear. Why? Because I thought nobody was ever going to upvote or comment on it. Who would comment on a black boy’s introductory post? I thought, my face awfully frowned, my chin heavily rested on my palm, my brown but bulged eyes staring at the late morning sun. Next day, upon checking the post, I shouted at the zenith of my voice and ran out of his room. I had just spent the night @tonu-duke house, the guy that introduced me to Steemit. “Why are you shouting, this guy?” He woke up immediately and asked in curiosity. “A white lady, @purepinnay, gave me her upvote; she also commented on my introductory post.” @dobartim, I tell you, I never expected that a white lady could just comment on such a post. Her comment was really the most touching among others: “I like guys that play guitar; I’m a frustrated artist, welcome to Steemit.” Yes, she was right to say that, because I was singing and playing my semi-acoustic guitar in one of the pictures I used in my introductory post. I could easily see the smile on her face before she put in her beautiful comment. “Lol, a frustrated artist, thanks for your compliment,” I replied instantly, careful of every word I was using. She was the first person I replied to, though she wasn’t the first that commented. The above small incident can change one’s life. It changed mine. I started to believe in myself. If a white lady could love what I love doing, that means I’m somebody; I’m not nobody. I tell you, @dobartim, since that day, I’ve been posting a lot of things like poems, things about life, relationship, and people from across the world would comment, and I would reply. Last week, the week I would not forget in the history of Steemit. That week, I posted a lot, and I didn’t even get any upvote. I posted what I thought was the best post, and I received what I thought was the best disappointment. I was angry; I was tired. I wanted to quit but a voice kept telling me to keep moving. “I would subscribe for 1.5 GB; I would spend time on writing a post, and after posting it, I would receive no upvote, no comment.” I murmured one day, my right leg crossed over my left leg. I had just come back from the market. My black-like-charcoal face had been baldly sunburned. Well, I just decided to keep going because I believe that when the going gets tough, only the tough gets going, and though the beginning may be poor, the end is always great. That same last week, I wrote a poem, and posted it. Ten hours later, I received upvotes that gave me 8.40 dollars. I was happy when I checked the poem. What did I do? I called my friend @tony-duke, the guy that introduced me to Steemit. “Hello,” I said with an overwhelming elation, my voice checking over the phone. “How far,” he replied instantly. “Is there any good news, you sound so happy.” "Yes, yes, I just got 8.40 dollars from a poem I posted now.” Later on, I told him to check the poem too, and upvote it. That notwithstanding, Last week again, I participated in a poetry contest by @tony-duke and @ajremy, and the end, my poem came first. My account was credited with 5.000SBD as a reward. I received comments like: “I’m proud of you, keep writing.” I was encouraged by such comments. It made me know that the task ahead of me is not greater than the power within me. Since then, me, @tony-duke, @ajremy, we do post, comment on each other’s post,and upvote it too. Talking about the one of yesterday, @flysky transferred 1.000BSBD to my account, and I was shocked. Guess what happened? This young, but fresh man hosted a Newbie contest. In the contest, we were asked to tell our journey so far on Steemit. I posted my own among others, and at the end, I got the 1.000SBD. @ flysky was able to like my own story, and he chose it as the best. He was able to comment on it. He said thus, “I like your story, congratulations.” “Thanks a lot,” I responded. How did it start? @flysky would post anytime, and I would upvote and comment every time. A particular day came; I posted something biblical, and he commented on it. Now, I can proudly say that I know @flysky, and he knows a little bit of me, though he is there, and I’m here. Those little communications are really something to me. Now, I have the strength to move on. I’m no more the person I used to be in high school. I can talk; I can associate with the people around me. I can greet them; I can joke with them. I’m no more alone. The only time I’m alone is when I’m writing. I can write more; I can think more, and think out something good.
Yesterday, I posted a poem written by my younger sister, and immediately I posted this poem, not even an hour had passed, a white, cute lady, @jocelynlily, commented on it. She told me some moments she fell in love with in the poem. She also told me to tell my sister that she should keep writing. Well, I replied, and told her how nice it was to hear from her. You know, it’s one thing for a black person to upvote and comment on your post; it’s entirely another thing for a white person to comment on the same post. It’s something that I grew up with. I always would think about racism whenever these two colors: ‘black and white’ come to my mind, but ever since I joined Steemit, through various communications, I’ve been seeing a different thing, and that has changed my life. What I thought a white person was then is now different from what I think he is. That I’m even participating in your contest, @dobartim portrays my changed life. I’m now a free person. I’m no more afraid. I can express my opinions, beliefs, etc. I tell you, communications on Steemit taught me that.
Thanks a lot @dobartim for your support, for this contest. Thanks to @flysky for your support too. Thanks to all Steemians for joining this great platform. God bless you all!!

This is a contest by @dobartim, and here is the link: https://steemit.com/steemitultimatechallenge/@dobartim/steemit-ultimate-challenge-8-weeks-prize-fund-2000-sbd-week-3-registration-is-in-progress-last-24-hours