The Son of Teachers
I was born into a family of teachers.
My father was a teacher. A very disciplined man who believed education could solve almost every problem in life.
My mother was also a teacher and a mathematics teacher.
Life in our house was simple but organized.
We were not rich, but we were not poor either.
My mother was a hardworking woman. After finishing work at school every afternoon, she would go straight to her small shop to sell provisions. Sometimes she didn't return home until evening.
Looking back now, I realize she was probably exhausted every day.
But she never complained.
My parents also hired a bike man who took my sisters and me to school every morning. He would wait after school and take us back home.
My father paid him every month.
At that age, I thought that was normal life.
I didn't know my parents were sacrificing a lot to give us comfort.
Academically, I was not the type teachers called "a genius."
I was not the boy who always came first in class.
But there were two subjects I understood very well.
Mathematics and English.
My mother made sure of that.
Being a mathematics teacher meant there was no escape for me. If I didn't understand something, she would sit me down and explain it again and again until I got it.
Because of her, I developed a strong understanding of algebra.
But there were some parts of mathematics I absolutely hated.
Geometry.
Triangles. Angles. Circles.
They made my head hurt.
Probability was another enemy of mine. I never liked it, and many times my exam scores suffered because of it.
Still, I tried.
I always tried.
Primary school life was easy.
We studied… but we also played a lot.
Football during break time.
Running around the compound.
Laughing with friends.
But my mother didn't allow laziness.
She hired an extra lesson teacher who came to the house to teach my sisters and me after school.
At the time, I hated those lessons.
Today, I thank her for them.
Because those lessons would later help me more than I realized.
Then came the moment that changed my childhood.
Secondary school.
I was admitted into ECWA Secondary School.
I had no idea that something very small, a simple decision would become one of the biggest regrets of my life.
Because that was where I met a girl named Nancy.