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    On the Other Side of the Sun
    On the Other Side of the Sun
    On the Other Side of the Sun
    Ebook89 pages1 hour

    On the Other Side of the Sun

    By Zainab Makanjuola

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A young girl from Nigeria that grow up in Oakland feels alone, pays attention to other people world when she was little, but not her own. Cares for others, do what she was told, lets other people words effect her. Than learn that true love doesn't last long, blame herself for falling in love with a wrong person. At the end of the day she grow up being strong.Not knowing her journey as just begun . She knows that she have lot to do and more to learn in life and about people. The more she loves other the more she gets hurt but no more, Wonder why sorting people can't leave without guilt. "Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is a freedom" - Marilyn Ferguson.

    LEARN from YOUR MISTAKES that is how YOU LIVE life!
    AND... Be WISE......
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateJun 23, 2014
    ISBN9781491808801
    On the Other Side of the Sun
    Author

    Zainab Makanjuola

    19 years old born in west African Nigeria Ibadan. Raised in east/west Oakland. Have three sisters and two brothers, two sisters is older and brother is two years older and one little brother. I never was a trouble and never will be i love trying new things especially food, cant go wrong with that unless it is something you never imagine you eating. People say i laugh a lot. I am very much interesting in poems and fashion, i do make my own earrings and top whenever i have time. I don't like seeing people sad because i will get sad. I have a lot of friends but i only have two girls that i hangout with every time and i love them so much both of them keeps me going and that's what i love about them. You don't need a lot of friends to make you smile or anything cause a lot of them are fake.

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      Book preview

      On the Other Side of the Sun - Zainab Makanjuola

      AuthorHouse™ LLC

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.authorhouse.com

      Phone: 1-800-839-8640

      © 2014 Zainab Makanjuola. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse   06/20/2014

      ISBN: 978-1-4918-0883-2 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4918-0880-1 (e)

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2013914706

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

      and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Contents

      Chapter 1   Time Line of Silence

      Chapter 2   Strange Changed Life

      Chapter 3   Strange Changed Life, Part 2

      Chapter 4   Never at Home; Meeting Half-Sister for the First Time

      Chapter 5   First Time in America: Oakland, California

      Chapter 6   New Friends, Family, Love, Laughter, Hate, Crush, Music

      Chapter 7   Never Know What’s Next; Graduation; Lost but Never Forgotten

      Chapter 8   Friends Like Family, Family Like Friends!

      Chapter 9   Realize Time of Death

      Chapter 10   Fake Friends; Trying New Things; First Love or Last?

      CHAPTER 1

      Time Line of Silence

      Some people say that I am weird, rude, full of myself, and stuck up. On the other hand, some say that I am funny, fun to hang out with, shy, goofy, bubbly, a good dancer, and, at the same time, weird. Well, I say that I am not rude, full of myself, or fun to hang out with, but I might be weird, and there is nothing wrong with that; I am just me. I might be rude and full of myself sometimes, but I don’t know that. Maybe it is because I was raised with different people while growing up. When I was a little girl, I always dressed like a model, putting makeup on and looking weird—just me. But before all that started, I went through a lot growing up. From these stories begins when I was a toddler, and reasons why some people say that I am weird, nice, and sweet.

      Before my father left—before he won the lottery ticket—both of my parents went through a lot in life. My mom had already had a daughter with someone else before they met each other. My mom’s friend put my mom and dad together. My mom and my dad got married. When my mom was pregnant with my big sister, she went through a lot. When they finally had her, it was like a life-and-death thing. My big sister was fainting and coming back again and again until they finally did something to stop her from doing that. I guess they gave her something and probably prayed for her. When my mom had my big brother, my dad walked barefoot, taking him to the hospital. He took my big brother everywhere because of my brother’s sickness. His body got hot every day. My parents went through a lot before he got better.

      My father was a soldier back then. Our family wasn’t poor. After my dad finished serving in the military, he became a teacher. All that happened before I was born. When my mom had me, I was different from the others. I was mean to the other kids, always fighting them and making them cry. I was a mean baby, and I cried whenever I didn’t see my mom. I would be in the hallway in my big sister’s dress, which was too big for me, crying, going back and forth, looking for my mom, and crying when someone tried to pick me up.

      My dad said that before I was born, he met an old lady when he was walking home one night. The old lady told him she knew what my dad was going through and that she would like to help him. But my dad didn’t even listen to the old lady, because he knew what she was talking about, and he didn’t believe in voodoo, even though his dad did voodoo to kill evil witches and all that voodoo stuff. My dad was a good person; he didn’t do bad things. The old lady told my dad that if he did not do anything, everything was going to be bad and all his kids were going to die, but my dad still didn’t listen to her. He walked away and never looked back. He got home and started praying.

      When I was a baby, my dad left my mom, big brother, big sister, and me. He did not leave because he was abandoning us. No, he left as in he traveled. He told us he had a brother someplace in the United States—I’ve forgotten the place. Anyway, he said that he played this lottery game where people put different names on pieces of paper. Someone would roll the papers, and they picked out one name. His brother had added my dad’s name last, and when the roller person rolled the papers and stopped, he put his hand in and picked out my dad’s name. Everybody was really surprised. His brother was happy and immediately called my dad and told him everything. He said that my dad had won a lottery to America and should get everything ready. My dad was happy and my mom too—everybody was happy for him. He did everything he was told to do and left for America. I was about three years old when he left.

      I wasn’t a big fan of my dad when he left. I was a baby when he left, so when I started growing up, I didn’t know that I had a dad. The people I grew up with were the people I was going to know and love, but he always called my mom. Sometimes he asked for me, but I didn’t want to talk to him because I didn’t know who he was. I always imagined how he looked. Sometimes he didn’t ask for me, and I got mad about that even though I would not talk to him.

      I grew up with my mom, sister, brother, cousins, aunts, and uncles—people who loved me and knew me. Well, half of me. I am not much of a talker. I don’t like noise either. When it came to school, I didn’t talk at all. That’s because I didn’t want to be at school. I hated school. Nigerian teachers were so mean to the students. They would tell us, not ask us. They told the students to buy beating sticks so that they could beat us, and they did. If someone dared not to bring the stick, they beat the heck out of him or her. It was crazy. They would tell us to fix our hair the same as one of the teachers, and if we didn’t do it, they would beat us. Now, tell me that you would not be scared of school if that happened every week. I remember one of my Muslim teachers beat me with a stick because I didn’t know some of the ABCs in Arabic. He beat the life out of my fingers so badly that one of my fingernails came off and started bleeding. To this day my nails do not look straight at all. We always cursed those teachers out. My mom would change our schools. I didn’t know why my mom did that and I have no problem with it, but it was always hard for me because each school was different and each teacher had his or her own way to teach.

      CHAPTER 2

      Strange Changed Life

      My big sister and big brother were never home, so it was always my mom, my mom little brother, my dad’s brother’s son, and me living in the apartment. My mom and I went through a lot in that apartment since my sister and older brother were never home. Everything

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