The Day of Life's Lessons

For years I have given many interviews about my career, but few on my early life.

Here's a bit from my memoirs "The Faith of a Child":

"Before I go into my history, I would like to tell you about the one single day in my life when I learned most of life’s hard lessons. I was attending Reagan Memorial Primary School in Yaba, Lagos, before the Biafra War began. When I was eight or nine years old I was given a lift to school each day by our next-door neighbour, who was a teacher at the school; as this was convenient for Mummy. I didn’t like going to school with this woman, because I could sense I was an imposition, but there was no choice, my school was at least ten miles away and the roads were dangerous. Also I hated the school where I was bullied. A girl, threw a pair of scissors at me, because I would not rise to the challenge to a fight with her, a fight which the whole class was anticipating. One of the sharp ends of the scissors pierced my back and drew blood. My class teacher seemed unconcerned and sent me to have it dressed in the dispensary. When I returned to the class, my attacker and I were punished and told to sit in silence in detention, after the end of classes that day.

As a result of this I was five minutes late for my lift home and the woman had driven away and left me behind. I recall seeing the car driving away as I came running towards it knowing she would be furious with me. At first, I had a sense of relief when I saw the car and then, I can’t describe my emotions as she sped away and I realised that I was on my own I had no money for the fare home or to make a call to my mother. I would, in any case, not be allowed to use the school telephone. The school day ended at 1:30pm and without money and under the hot sun, thinking only of one step at a time, I began to make my way home on foot. I knew I would be afraid if I was to allow myself to worry about how far I would have to walk. I remained on the main Agege Motor Road just in case my mother came looking for me and, as much as possible, I walked on the tarmac away from the earthen verge so that she would be able to see me even though this was a dangerous thing to do on a Nigerian road where no-one abides by the rules. It turned out to be a journey during which I learnt many of life’s vital lessons.

I had walked quite a way before I decided to risk getting on a Molue bus which were always overcrowded, hoping that if I could manage to scramble on, at least I would cover a little distance before the bus conductor realised I had no money, and threw me off . At the bus stops, there would be rows and rows of Molues, these are mini buses or large

people-carriers, that are designed to seat thirty comfortably, but 70 or more would be squashed in, with some just hanging out of the windows and door. The buses had names on them such as “Blessing”, “Hallelujah”, and often the names were short statements like “God is good!” In the event I was discovered immediately, although I had tried to hide, the bus was jam-packed and bursting at the seams with people hanging out of the windows whilst others were clinging on to the roof rack for dear life. I managed to get on sandwiched between two adults who dwarfed me with their big, dusty and smelly parcels of food, which were, at least three feet wide and placed on their laps, making it difficult, or so I thought, for me to be seen. Unfortunately, the bus conductor had spotted me through the window and demanded the fare. The passengers were, understandably, not pleased with me when the conductor insisted I pay up or get off the bus, because, in order to let me get out past them, as small as I was, they had to struggle to stand up. Shifting their loads, whilst others categorically refused to get off the bus to let me out for fear of losing their tiny space. They all muttered with displeasure and some shouted abuse at me, as I pushed hard to get to the door with my wounded back throbbing, making sure I clung tightly to my school bag. When I finally got to the door, the impatient bus conductor pulled me off the bus. I lost my footing and fell on to the hard dry earth catching my knee. With all the commotion and the fall I was frightened and I sat by the side of the road and cried. I remember the heat and I began to feel hungry and my knee was bleeding from the fall. I picked myself up and tried to look on the bright side as I breathed in the dusty and hot air; at least, I was free from the suffocating body odour in the bus, mixed with the strong stifling smell of dried fish, peppers, herbs and cassava.

I picked up my bag and, brushing the dust off my uniform, I started my journey again trying my best to forget the abuse and madness of the Bus encounter. I knew now that no matter how long it took. I would have to walk home. The wound in my back was throbbing, probably from the sweat that was seeping into the thin dressing over the deep wound in the flesh at the side of my spine, and my leg was hurting from the fall The sun was beating down on the intricate partings in my hair that exposed the scalp between my plaits giving me a headache. I took off my socks and twisted them together to make a small round ring like a donut, placed it on my head and balanced my school bag filled with books on it. This was the way we were taught to balance heavy loads on our heads, leaving the hands free.

Along the main road, I came to a market place where there was an unusually large crowd of people and they were not the ordinary market

crowd, the atmosphere was strange, there was something unpleasant about it all. There was a strong smell of something burning, like rubber; I could see the black smoke rising above the crowd. Being the curious child that I was, I moved through the people towards the smoke, weaving my way through the crowd trying not to lose my bag. It was not easy, but I persevered, pushing closer and closer to the front taking advantage of my size and gaps in the crowd. I was sure someone’s car had caught fire. When I did get to the front of the crowd, I was stunned and shocked. I immediately ran back to the road and away as fast as I could run. It was not the burning car that I had expected, but the crowd had set a young man alight. They had pushed him into car tyres, doused him with petrol and set him on fire. From the evil conversations I overheard as I fled I gathered this was his punishment for stealing something. I wondered what he could have stolen to deserve such punishment. His twisted body was a terrible sight and the smell was indescribable and will forever remind me of that side of the human race that makes me wonder why God is so patient with us, His most destructive creation.

The lesson that no eight or nine year old child should have to learn so young is that there is an unseen force that can control a crowd, making it one entity which can do the most despicable things that no individual would think of doing.

In shock and frightened, I left the crowd and the area very quickly. Suddenly, behind me there was the sound of screeching tires and I leapt into the gutter narrowly avoiding being hit by a speeding car. My heart was pounding and the driver and a few onlookers shouted angry words at me. Tears welded up again in my eyes..............."

Extract from "The Faith of a Child" by Patti Boulaye

The Faith of a Child

Reviews;

“The first chapter of your book is just awesome – I couldn’t stop reading – it is just one of the most compelling/emotional stories that I have ever read about a young girl – the more extraordinary because of what you have become. So beautifully described – I could imagine myself with you on your long walk. But, of course, as you say, these experiences are so formative in our later lives. I shall read on…….. Wow – what a really fascinating life – you are the most remarkable person..... What a powerful book about someone whose life is so public, yet previously so little known – well done putting it all down for us.” Surgeon Rear Admiral Lionel Jarvis CBE KStJ DL FRCR Prior of the Priory of England & the Islands of the Order od St John & chair of St John Ambulance

“All of us who think we had a difficult childhood must read Patti Boulaye’s unbelievable life story. Her riveting story is a paramount example of what can be accomplished when insurmountable odds are overcome by positive thinking, spirit, vitality, never giving up, love and eliminating all excuses. I am an avid reader and could not put down this book written by this multi-talented lady which can help so many people that think there’s no way out of a life of heartache, pain, disappointment, etc. She is the beacon light to having a successful life after experiencing impossible odds on the road to happiness and success.” Coach Dale Brown (National College Basketball Hall of Fame Coach) Louisiana State University 1972-1997

“I just wanted to say, I have sadly finished reading your book. I say sadly - as I never wanted it to end. Indeed, you must write a follow up! It made for a most captivating read. It was funny and sad in equal measure. The lightness, after some certain dark pages, always appeared when I needed it most. But what stood out for me most of all is how brave you were, and how strong you had to be from such an early age. I was desperately sad on reading about what you had to endure. How thankful and relieved I was when Stephen, your knight in shining armour, came into your life. I also enjoyed reading about your friendship and respect you had for John Major, as I am extremely interested in politics. Some of its contents I found disturbing, possibly because reading this book brought back bad memories of my own struggles in life to get to where I am today. Albeit under different circumstances to your own. Anyhow, I would love to review this book for you………Forgive me if my excitement is running away with me, but I feel your autobiography should be a number 1 best seller, and receive the recognition it deserves.” Patricia Merrick (The Lady Magazine)

 “Making inroads into your book, and thoroughly enjoying it whilst being horrified at some of what life has thrown at you. Sounds like challenges you have overcome prove the old adage "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" David Browne Honorary Enterprise Fellow at Coventry University

“This is one of the best, if not the best celebrity book I have read. Very honest and unexpected.” R. Lewis (Journalist)