One picture one story
Hello friends, how are you all doing today? I hope all is well and you all are having a nice and wonderful day. Today, I will be sharing with you all my "one picture, one story" of my greatest childhood memory.
The above picture is of the secondary school I attended, and the picture was taken by me when I visited my hometown a few weeks back.
What makes the picture so special is the fact that the school, "Etinan Institute Etinan," is a big boarding school, and my dad was a teacher there. We actually lived inside the school compound as staff.
So, in a nutshell, I was born and raised in that school. All my childhood memories were made inside the school compound, which includes the good memories as well as the bad memories.
The Good memories |
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Within the four walls of the school where I was born and raised, many cherished memories were made. I remember how my brother and I used to play hide-and-seek during school holidays when no students (boarders) were present.
I also recall the good times I shared with my brothers, especially when my dad bought us a bicycle. We used to ride the bike and take turns around the school environment, with a very strong admonition from my dad that we shouldn't leave the school compound. Yes, the compound was big enough.
I remember almost all the students we used to play with, especially during games time. Some of them can still remember my face, though sometimes I have trouble remembering theirs.
It was also in that school compound that I experienced true fatherly love, one of the feelings I will never forget. My dad always treated me like an angel; I had everything I ever wanted, and most times I wished such moments would last forever.
The Bad Memories |
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Yep, my dad always treated me in a special way, but two things happened in that school compound that I will never forget. It started when our house was divided because of my dad; my mom left us. Though I would cry every day for her to come back, my dad would refuse. Also, while still in that school compound, I received the news that my mom had died.
The picture reminds me of the good times I had during my childhood, and at the same time, it reminds me of the tragedy that took place in my life. Sometimes I wish that it would have been different, maybe. "No matter how tin you'd slice it, there will always be two sides"