I got into photography mostly because I sucked at everything else. I tried the school thing, actually graduated with a degree in biology, but knowing my options of finding a decent job would involve working in some research facility or in a hospital, I desperately started looking for alternatives, much to my parents chagrin of course. They had always thought their son would go to med school and do the family proud. Too bad life had other plans for me.

I was always a visual kid, drawing and emulating the super hero stories I saw on TV and read in comic books. I was drawn to the story telling medium because it gave me a means of expressing myself. My parents never really wanted me spending so much time on drawing comics, but they never discouraged me from working on it. Towards my high school years, I set it aside temporarily mostly due to peer pressure.

Yet I felt like I was going through the motions. Unsure of what life had in store for me. Wracking up credits and grades because I had to. I was a decent science student so my parents felt something in that regards would be beneficial. Back then in Lagos, you were either a science or finance student. The arts were highly frowned upon and I can honestly say I don't think I ever met anyone avidly into photography. There was simply no room for such. Years later, my passion for storytelling would prove useful via the lens. I'd have been a miserable person if I had ended up doing something else, the camera undoubtedly saved my life.

By the time I was in senior secondary school (the equivalent of grades 10 through 12 in the states), I was already plotting my escape route and education was going to be the vehicle I used to get away. The parents always thought I should study abroad, which was all fine and dandy with me. America was the land at the end of the rainbow, I had dreamed so often about moving there, realizing my dreams and living in the lap of luxury. Unfortunately, there was no means for my parents to pay for my schooling abroad, it was simply too expensive. As fate would have it, my parents would be the lucky recipients of the US government's green card lottery. My father thinking the grass was going to be greener on the other side moved his family consisting of my mother, my sister and me to the states. All of a sudden we were in a foreign land and had to get accustomed to their ways. The change whilst rough at times was easier for us kids than the adults and till date, I still feel my father regretted the move. As for me, my dream had come true, though with some caveats. Whereas I thought I could completely break away from my ever doting parents by coming to study abroad, the VISA lottery had negated that by making sure we were all making the trip together. Not to be deterred, I tried to convince my parents to let me study out of state, but that was quickly deflated. My parents could not fathom me living so far from home. My thirst for independence would have to be delayed for a while. There was still the other issue of how I would pay for school, which was proving to be quite an obstacle.

Fortunately, I wasn't a complete dunderhead. I got a scholarship to study at a small university on the Chicago outskirts. For four years I toiled and bust my ass in this place until I got the degree. I did what my parents wanted, though I can't deny the education also helped me too, I just wish I had gone to school for what I wanted.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at the MCAT, I realized med school wasn't going to be an option. I knew merely having a biology degree wasn't going to be enough. In that field, you either become a doctor or get some post graduate degree to get a decent job.
I had these lofty goals of traveling the world, perhaps as a TV host of some exotic travel show. That dream never lasted. Life has a way of forcing reality on us.

So here I was running out of options. A post grad degree seemed the most logical step but by now I was quite wary of packing on more debt in a field I was unsure of. So I decided to discover myself, and by that I meant doing any and all sorts of shitty jobs I could get my hand on, convincing myself that I was saving up for something better whilst gaining experience.

I had moved out of my parent's place, falling out with them over not going to get my masters right off the bat. In retrospect, it was a terrible move. You can't begin to understand just how much crap I got into because of my pride. If I had stayed at home and followed my parents' wishes, things most likely would be different now, but I guess that's an entirely different story in itself.

So here I was, taking my own tour of Chicago, getting to live in some of the shittiest areas whilst holding down some crappy jobs at the same time. I became quite adept at making burgers and till date I still smell the grease from those grills I used in the various food joints I worked at. I roomed with all sorts of characters in those years. From broke kids without a goal like me, to kids who really wanted more out of life but had no means to do so. I lost my scruples, found it and chucked it out again during those times. One thing you can't deny is that we took the Y.O.L.O. phrase quite seriously.

At some point though, I got sick of it all. The parties, the meaningless living, constant worrying about how rent was going to be paid, being broke most of the time and being so estranged from family. I had to figure out a way to get my life back on track. Of course a lot of my problems were tied to my finances, if I could figure that out then I could prove to my parents that I could stand on my own.

Photography found me by accident and would change my life in the process.