The Great Betrayal

| This is the 453rd story of Our Life Logs | For as long as I can remember, it was always a constant battle for survival. I was born in 1987 in Jamaica. Growing up in a single-parent home with three siblings was no joke. Four kids with three different last names and only one parent to care for us; hunger was our close friend as my … Continue reading The Great Betrayal

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At the Start of My Journey

| This is the 449th story of Our Life Logs | Growing up in Ozone Park in the New York borough of Queens in the 1980s was not easy for me. My childhood was not sweet, to say the least. Instead of love and security, it was filled with mockery and humiliation. I mean, my parents gave us kids—my twin sister, older brother, and me—basic things like … Continue reading At the Start of My Journey

Whispers of the Heart

| This is the 448th story of Our Life Logs | My story began before I was even born, when the traditional values of the Pakistani culture sunk into the hearts and minds of my parents—separately, of course. They didn’t get married until sometime in the 1970s. But each grew up in Pakistan, and each moved to London in the 60s, and each was suited to one … Continue reading Whispers of the Heart

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

| This is the 446th story of Our Life Logs | I was born in 1998, in Lagos, Nigeria, a sparsely over-populated city with a mix of lifestyles and cultures. It was like the America of Nigeria, hence the popular saying, “No one in Lagos is from Lagos.” In my early childhood, we lived in a ghetto in Lagos called Okokomaiko, full of rain-washed fading walls and … Continue reading A Light at the End of the Tunnel

The Street Artist

| This is the 384th story of Our Life Logs | I was born in Sighthill, Glasgow, in 1983. I grew up on a large council estate with high-rise flats as far as the eye could see. It was full of crime, poverty, and drug addicts. I remember playing in the park as a child and there would be needles scattered like leaves. Buildings were often graffitied … Continue reading The Street Artist

Exhale and Recover 

| This is the 377th story of Our Life Logs | I grew up in the 1990s in Belfast, Northern Ireland, during the times of “The Troubles.” If you didn’t know, The Troubles refer to a nasty civil dispute that spanned over 30 years between the British and Irish in the country over religious and nationalistic differences. Naturally, this made Northern Ireland a dangerous place to grow … Continue reading Exhale and Recover 

I Fear No Evil

| This is the 350th story of Our Life Logs |I grew up in Flint, Michigan, in the 1950s and ’60s, far before the water problem it is known for now plagued the town. My parents were generous people who cared for the less fortunate and lived their lives serving God. Although they already had seven children, they adopted four more from our church whose parents … Continue reading I Fear No Evil

An Innate Survival

| This is the 349th story of Our Life Logs |I grew up in a small Italian neighborhood in the North End of Bridgeport, Connecticut, alongside my younger sister. Growing up in the 1980s, we spent our days running off with neighborhood friends, only returning home when the hum of the streetlights came on.If I wasn’t playing with friends, I was with my grandparents who lived … Continue reading An Innate Survival

At the Foot of the Mountain

| This is the 344th story of Our Life Logs |I grew up on a small Caribbean Island in the 1990s where I loved to play sports and solve math problems. I always looked up to my dad who was a successful accountant and I dreamed of following in his footsteps. Though, as I began my journey to high school, I found myself straying from the … Continue reading At the Foot of the Mountain

A Life Not Lost

| This is the 330th story of Our Life Logs |The past has claws—The future has wings.Born in 2001 in Gainesville, Florida, I was first taken from my parents when I was just a one-month-old baby boy because of sexual abuse and incest. My father was registered as a sex offender. Over time, my father lost all rights to see me, while my mother’s supervised visits … Continue reading A Life Not Lost