Singapore, a city-state where cultures collide and skyscrapers stand tall, was my home for two years during my childhood. It was a time of exploration and discovery, made possible by the country's strict laws and well-developed public transport system, which created a safe environment for children like myself to venture into the heart of the city.

From the multicultural hawker centres serving up a medley of flavours like the unforgettable Nasi Goreng, to the sprawling shopping centres where my brother and I, donned our school uniforms to qualify for local discounts, would spend hours hunting down the one store selling Warhammer figurines and D&D books.

I attended the United World College of South East Asia, a unique school that fostered creativity and curiosity. I remember the hilarity of publishing our quick-to-market newspaper, 'Chernobyl', and the competition of playing handball in the outdoor walkways. Beyond the school gates, we'd venture out to Bukit Timah, the highest hill in Singapore, where we'd encounter monkeys and end our hikes with a refreshing drink at McDonald's. Sentosa, with its beaches and amusement park, was another favourite spot for a day out.

The city's blend of Malay, Indonesian, Chinese, and Philippine cultures was a fascinating backdrop to my everyday life, shaping my understanding of the world. Singapore, with its orderly streets and harshly lawful society, was a far cry from the chaos of Lagos that I’d later call home. But it was here, amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling markets, that I found a sense of myself.