I barely passed the 1st grade while one of my cousins came 1st. It made me think: “What is wrong with me?” But you see, I had little time to study. There was work at home that needed taken care of too. Every evening, father would collect all his children around the fire and tell stories. Stories from the days when he had to leave his village for a foreign country looking for work. He told us how he survived when the came collapsed on him and his friend while mining for coal, the wounds that healed and the scars it left. He would tell us about his family who had settled in far-flung villages and how he remembered them. He shared with us how his parents had died on the same day due to a disease that could have been cured which also became the reason for him to stop going to school. He talked about his dreams for his son and for his daughters. This was the favorite time of my day. And it was father stories that enchanted me towards books that I had received from school. After everyone went to rest, I would take out my book and read. I started doing well in school and I became one of the best students throughout the primary and secondary school.”