Arike

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My mother would always tell me that during my birth she was in so much pain, so much anguish that sometimes she looks at me and wonders if I was worth it. I am not the smartest child there is, neither have I ever proven myself worthy of her sacrifice; this isn't because I am ungrateful or that I cannot clearly behold how much of herself she had already lost in order to be able to care for me. I am just unable to react to it, because half of the time, I am barely here.

My name is Arike Bolaji, and this is my story. 

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