My rich wife episode 1

Episode 1.
I welcome you all to another mind b!owing Article, stay tune to gesticulating this one too , your comments are rightly nee-ded. Let go in….
Right from when I was 9 years old, I had made up my mind never to be poor, having seen how my parents had suffered to train us.
My Elder sister, Hannatu was f0rç£d into early marriage to Alhaji Ayuba, a popular car dealer in Gusua, Zamfara State as the fourth five, just to elevate the family’s poverty.
Hannatu was just sixteen when she was given out in marriage which automatically halted her education, ma-king her st©p school in SSS 1. Unfortunately, her marriage never brou-ght the de-sired proceed to the family. The intention my parents had was to get Hannatu into marriage in order to help train me and my siblings in school but all to no avail.
Without doubt, I’ve always known that I am a bright child, but no help from anywhere to train me in school. When I was fifteen, I have to drop from school to pick up a menial job just to as-sist my family. I was taken to Lagos by my father’s friend who buys and sells cola nut. He buys in bulk from the north to sell in Lagos. He engaged me as one of his truck boys. We follow the truck from Katsina to Lagos to help load and offload. The risk of the job was in our numerous night journeys where we had to narrowly escape death severally from armed robbers’ attacks and accidents. Even though I was the youngest among Alhaji Danladi’s truck boys, I was ha-rd working and dedicated to work. I rarely complain about work knowing where I c@m£ from. My weekly returns mean a lot to my family so I dare not joke with work.
After working with Alh Danladi for three years, I opened a savings account and began to save a token into the account. After two years I had saved N350,000. By this time I was alre-ady twenty years old yet to complete my secondary school education. I told my dad of my plan to go back to school, but the idea did not go well with him considering the amount I remit every week to as-sist the family. I enrolled for extra moral clas-ses to prepare me for WAEC, but I ha-rd ly had time to attend, due to my job.
For obvious reasons, living my job wasn’t an option. I sat for WAEC and NECO simultaneously. I managed to have four credits in my Neco and three in my WAEC. With my results I applied for admission into School of Basic and Remedial Studies, A br@nch of Ahmadu Bello University. After the remedial course I was offered admission to study Accounting.
It was really a ha-rd time schooling without help. My time in campus was characterized with hunger and self denial. My suffering in campus bec@m£ minimal when I meet Jocelyn. Jocelyn was the daughter of former Kaduna State Deputy Governor. She lived in affluence and ha-rd ly attend lectures. I bec@m£ her school boy, I helped her do all her as-signments and even tests. She bought me a Chinese bike to ease my movement. I also bec@m£ her errand boy using the bike to run errands for her. She pays my bills and had even helped pay my school fees on many occasions. I practically do everything for her including buying her pads and undies. I helped her make withdrawals at the ATM because Jocelyn will never stand in a queue. Even some dep@rtmental do¢v-mentations that require her attention, I will stand in queue for her then call her when is her turn. In our final year she began to take me to their house in Kaduna and in no time I bec@m£ a friend to the family.
Do you know that our relationsh!pgot dee-per than just an errand boy.