From Hawking Noodles To The Boardroom: A Story of Grit and Grace
One bright day at the office, my colleague asked me a question that surprised me and stirred emotions I hadn’t felt in a long time. She said; Elizabeth, what is it about your life that makes you feel you’re not doing enough?”
Immediately, my mind flashed back to the most painful chapter of my life the death of my father.
My father served in the Nigerian Army until he passed away from a stroke in 2019. While he was alive, life was stable. School fees were paid on time, and we lacked nothing. But everything changed when he fell ill. Every resource we had was used for his treatment. And one morning, he was gone.
After his death, my mother told us we had to stop schooling and that there was no more money to support our education. I refused. I told myself, even as a young girl, that I would find a way to sponsor my education. Unfortunately, my eldest sister had no choice but to drop out.
To make matters worse, a family member told us that none of us would ever get married properly and that we would all get pregnant before marriage and struggle in life. That declaration sparked something in me. I became even more determined to prove them wrong.
So I started working
I did all kinds of jobs from project activations to hawking Indomie noodles on the streets for months just to support myself and my younger sisters. I hustled hard and kept going to school. I was focused. I even began saving to leave the country. Despite the chaos, I made a vow to myself: I wouldn’t compromise my body to survive. No sugar daddies, no shortcuts. I avoided relationships and distractions because I had a dream.
Along the way, I was scammed not once, but twice while processing my travel documents. I was depressed, but I didn’t give up. I kept pushing, kept selling, kept showing up. Eventually, I gained visibility online, especially on the X app. A marketing agency noticed my consistency and reached out to me. People abroad began requesting my contact details through them but instead of helping me, they used my work to enrich themselves without paying me. When I stood up for myself, they blocked me, and I lost my account.
As if that wasn’t enough, I was scammed with a fake university admission. Relatives mocked me, saying education wasn’t meant for someone like me. But I didn’t stop. I applied again to the same university and this time, I gained real admission as a part-time student.
While studying, I landed a full-time job as a Personal Assistant to a Managing Director. And now, by God’s grace, I’m in my final year.
So, what makes me feel I’m not doing enough?
It’s the memory of where I started. It’s the faces of my younger sisters looking up to me. It’s the voice of my late father echoing in my heart.
I desire to break every limit, to rise, and to inspire.
I’m not done yet but I’ve come far. And I’ll keep going.
