Naija Poetry | THE STREET WHERE MY NAME LEARNED TO SURVIVE

Ayomide Raji

Biography: Raji Ayomide Olaitan, known as King of Rhymes, is a Nigerian poet, spoken word artist, author, animator, and certified drone pilot. He grew up in the jungle city known as ajegunle. He is the Founder/CEO of King of Rhymes Poetry Hub and TechRise Coding Hub, platforms dedicated to empowering young creatives and training youths in digital and tech skills. He serves as the Global Teenage Tribe Leader of the African Writers Tribe, where he mentors and inspires young writers across Africa. His work blends poetry, storytelling, animation, and digital creativity to deliver powerful, emotional, and visually engaging art. King of Rhymes is a voice, a movement, and a rising force in African creativity. Subscribe. Listen. Feel. Rise.

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Ayomide Raji

Sunday 7 December 2025

THE STREET WHERE MY NAME LEARNED TO SURVIVE

I was born in a place

where dreams walk barefoot,

and hope wears a second-hand shirt

with the price tag still hanging from prayer.

In my street,

children learn ABC through the alphabet of survival,

A for “Avoid trouble,”

B for “Be sharp,”

C for “Carry your future like your last meal

because nothing is promised here.”

Ajegunle raised me.

Not softly.

Not gently.

But like a father who believes

the world will not pity his child.

Here, we don’t grow up,

we rise.

Rise like smoke from burnt tyres,

rise like rent in Lagos,

rise like the sun refusing to give up on a dark sky.

Every gutter taught me poetry.

Every generator humming at midnight

taught me rhythm.

Every mother selling courage in sachets

taught me strength.

I am the echo of streets that swallowed boys

and spat out men.

I am the voice of a generation

building bridges out of broken days.

I speak for the child

whose classroom is a kiosk,

whose notebooks are memories

and whose teacher is life.

If you call my scars ugly,

then you don’t understand the beauty

of a survivor’s skin.

My pain is not decoration,

it is direction.

I am from a place WHERE

light fails,

but destiny does not.

Where pockets are empty,

but hearts are full.

Where we fall seven times

and rise eight

because the ground no longer fears our weight.

So when you see me shine,

don’t call it a miracle.

Call it proof

that even the darkest streets

can raise a star.

My name is proof.

My story is testimony.

My journey is a map

drawn with the ink of struggle

and the colour of resilience.

I am the child of Ajegunle…

and I am still rising.

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