Early Life
As the third child out of six children my house was always busy and lively, being the child of a vicar made me even busier. We were either cooking or entertaining church visitors, most times I used to wish I was just a normal child from a normal family. The church parsonage which was our house was always filled with visitors, some with good intentions, some without nonetheless the house was always busy. I watched my father often see many of the people who came with complaints, ailments, and spiritual problems. 
Sometimes, the number of the people ran into the hundreds; they were so many that even before the scheduled day people had already started booking appointments and taking their numbers the night before. I was very little but some of those memories stuck with me as I grew up. Very early the next day my mum could be heard moving from one corner of the house to the other getting things set including our school uniforms. Gently she would tap all of us to wake up for the morning devotion usually held in our parlour, we would file into the sitting room with sleepy eyes. My dad was already seated on the center sofa waiting for us with an impatient scroll on his face.