Childhood Memory: The Dreams In Me
Formative years are known for youthful exuberance and exhilarating moments. Undoubtedly, it’s a period children all over the world begin to seek identities.
Besides, nothing could be further from the truth to say, it is a time silly questions are asked and opinions are formulated until adulthood.
While many lofty aspirations of a child, as to the type vocations, he desires to pursue later in life might be at variants with his parents or guardians, yet, it is the inner expression of such chap’s dreams that eventually introduces him to his parents or guardians and vice-versa.
Unfortunately, many parents often misinterpret such gesture of their wards, especially if it’s against their (parents) preconceived choice of career for the latter. Thus, they mislead, instead of guide, the young dreamer who chooses to chart his own path rather than following the ‘worn grasses’.
My little story began over couple of decades ago.
I was in fifth grade, which was equivalent to primary school in Nigeria educational system.
Then, my elementary-school-teachers always held meetings every last Friday of the month to celebrate God knew what, as I couldn’t recall vividly. Don’t ask me what went down during such auspicious occasion, as you already have an idea (Smiles). Such periods were always filled with fun and sumptuous meals strictly for teachers.
Ecstatically, I always looked forward to the day I would become an elementary teacher. So that I’ll be opportune to partake in the food galore!
Another incident happened when an elderly man asked me, “What do you intend to become in future, Jacob?” Without blinking my eyes, I said, “A tax collector” (funny).
The reason was not far to seek. Because each time we set out to the family farm, with my brothers and parent, I always saw some tax defaulters being locked up in an iron-cell at the town square.
Ridiculously, since I had a soft spot for being in a position of authority, one day, and be calling the shot for law offenders, therefore, I deemed it fit to pursue this as a career.
Furthermore, I remembered how in another occasion I was asked by my sister what I wanted to become when I grew up. “An engineer,” I said. The reason is because I so much craved to one day know why stuffs work, generally.
Eventually, 20 years down the road, here am I as a Software Engineer! Isn’t that cool?
Thanks to my parents who gave me freedom of choice to decide my destiny!
Summarily, let’s never shut the outlet doors against our children when they are struggling to assert their identity. We, as parents or guardians, are merely meant to guide not suffocate their choices.
Remember: Everyone has the right to decide his own destiny lyrics by Bob Marley.
(Mused form Mien Kampf)