Knowing very
well that after my Junior high school education, I may not be able to further
my education to Senior secondary school, I decided to seek sources of finance for
my education. At age 13, As little as I am, who will employ me to work for him,
to do what works, with what strength, and for what productivity? It was a
tedious adventure, however, there was light at the end of the tunnel. It all
started when my sick helpless lonely dad sought a vacancy from one of his colleague patient’s
relatives for me to work with him as a drug distributor, seller, and private health
care personnel.
My boss with
I journeyed through remote places in the villages just to make reasonable sales
for our business. As the bible rightly said that the hand that works must get
to eat, and none of our struggles for sales proved futile. Our productivity or
sales volume increased steadily. What should be my expectation as an ambitious
person pooling resources towards furthering my education? I requested an increment
in my little token as an employee. That wish “I may raise reasonable income to
support my sick dad to take care of my fees for the impending senior high
school education” was gradually being swallowed by the cloud since my boss
could not permit my request. As dynamic and ambitious my desire to enter a senior
high school that year grew then the gift of direction drew nearer.
I decided
to seek ways to migrate to an urban area for a source of employment with fair wages
which could help take care of my educational needs. Lo and behold, I managed and
relocated myself to one of the hottest towns in the Greater Accra Region. Ashaiman
is one of the most feared towns in Accra due to the high record of criminal
activities and the over-crowdedness in settlements. What could I have expected
as my welcome address? A stranger with no relatives in a dreaded strange land. What
does one call, it’s night, let’s go to sleep! At who’s home? In which room? Hmm!
A man experienced the thorns of life at
a homeless place. My first night in Ashaiman was the beginning of my experience
of “city life” in town. Who would have believed if being informed that your own
friends and relatives are your enemies of progress? That night I slept with a gang
of homeless hustlers from the same hometown. I slept with the last penny of my pocket
money which was Gh?5.00, and woke up the next morning with torn pockets with
nothing left. Sorrows of disappointment enrolled my face like a dark cloud
which has fallen waiting for heavy rain. Lessons learned, I kept mute as I disproved
their expectation of a complaint.
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