Born on the 17th of August, 1982 in a small city of Benue in Nigeria into a family of 9 and I, being the 5th child. My name is Sunsia Ivie. I was born weak and fragile. At six months I had a severe cold because I was exposed to the harsh weather by my dad. At age 2, I had the pox. At age 7 and 8 I had treated malaria a lot. At age 14 I had broken a bone while playing. A lot right? This is what happens when you are the 5th child in the house of 9. You go unnoticed well that's what I thought.
Being a child, you do not know how things really are and we never do till we witness how cruel people can be. We didn't have much. My mother, Kiti Ivie was a market woman and my father Parlie Ivie was a farmer. We always managed what we had and lived within our means but something about that didn't just sit right with me. I wanted more. I would always ask "mama, why do we have to live like this?", "how is this enough?", "why don't we do something else?". And she will always reply with "not everything you want is what you need". Gosh, I hated those words and since I was a child she never did pay much attention to my words.
At age 15, Papa died from a poisonous snake bite. The pressure to make means was difficult and mama was heartbroken…That day she came back early from the market and met him dressing. She didn't want him to go but he insisted and she finally gave in. Later that day in the evening papa hasn't returned from the farm and he has never stayed this late before. Mama was worried and couldn't hold back any more, she quickly tied her wrapper on her chest and hestily wore her slippers, without waiting for a minute, she ran off to the farm.
The day was dark and night had come but mama and papa hadn't returned yet. We all stayed closed to each other waiting for them to come and by this time, we were all worried and hoped nothing had happened. Suddenly we heard foot steps, not just of two people but of more. We heard loud voices and cry. We saw mama crying and her wrapper stained with mud in which she had sat on. Confused and scared we ran out to meet them. I hugged my mom and asked what happened but as soon as I looked through the crowd I saw papa's body that was laid on the floor by some men. At that moment I paused and I couldn't believe what had happened. Everything came crashing because at that point I knew no more education for me and that we will have to live by any means necessary. I couldn't cry because I was angry, I felt that he was being selfish. That he died the time I needed him the most, All I felt at that moment was anger and after that day nothing remained the same. Mama recovered from the shocked, we sold the piece of land to support our selves and help put things back together but after that we had nothing.
At age 16, felt like I knew all and could do all. I was wild and daring even if I was told that I wasn't as strong as I thought, I never believed. I wanted to try new things. I wanted to become more religious. Papa wasn't religious so I felt maybe that's why he died too soon. I didn't want that for myself since I always fell I'll so that's how I met this pastor that wasn't who he said he was… A man of God.