Friday, August 23, 2003, marked the official
conclusion of my secondary school days in the coastal city of Cape Coast,
Ghana. This came after 9 years of intense struggle for educational
enlightenment. It all kicked off in 1994 when two men showed up at our Kéïbli
home in Bloléquin, western Côte d’Ivoire. The night was cool and dark. After they had exchanged greetings, the men asked my mom if she would be interested in enrolling any of her children into a refugee
school system that would be launched in the town. She nodded. Few months later,
School “B” was opened. I was among the first batch of students. My class was
“KG” ~~~ Kindergarten ~~~ and my nickname was “ABC Grandma”. Yes! That was
exactly what I was among those young kids: the oldest, the tallest. That was my
first time to ever step foot into a classroom. All along, I served as breadwinner for my
family. I sold fish balls day-in and day-out to feed my family.
Thankfully, I had a relentless mom (Teyah) who stood strong and supported me in
everything I wanted to do and pampered me. I learned to spell name at age 9, before having
a full grasp on the entire alphabet. The length of my name was a bit of a
problem for me, though ~ nine letters. So my mom put it into a song and I was
able to remember it within a few days. I recited my name at least trice each
night before going to bed. I
started kindergarten at age nine, with the support of only my mother. She threw
a party for me each time I topped my school. From the first grade, I received
double promotions four years in a row. My grade point average hardly went below
96%. My mom was so proud! However, by the fourth double promotion, she began to
believe that the school was not challenging enough for me.
