A career in the wrong direction.

When I was young,like in class 2,there was this one time I had to steel money from my dad, not because it was my habit. I just wanted to show off these guys in school who were obsessed with money. They would show off their little pennies every break,lunch and evening times. So I got angry. Angry at myself for not possessing anything to show off. And no, my parents were not broke,atleast not to that extend. They believed in bringing a child in difficulties to appreciate life(or so I thot). This feeling grew up inside me I couldnt sit on it anymore. So I decided, to do the one thing I never thot would ever attempt.

I developed a habit of searching my dad's shirt,trouser pockets but for a very long time I never got lucky(he must have known I was either looking for it or nature was taking its course). They were always empty. Then this one day, I remember it was a Sunday(never used to go to church coz it meant sunday school which had boring proceedings,nway, so was tthe main service). I went searching from pocket to pocket and luckly dad had offloaded one of his bulls and kept the money their. I sighed with relief as my hands touched the soft notes folded in the coat. I actually took my time and picked some notes but never counted how much and left the room.

Nothing much happened later that day but as a thief, u always leave trace marks. I went talking to my brother about some money apparently I had landed my hands,this was clean money, about 25 shillings and wanted to impress him the following day with a piece of sugar cane. Turns out this was the self increminating point. The following day in class at ten,mum comes knocking in class and picks me. She starts questioning me about the money and as I struggle to mumble something, she adds that my brother had told her about a story told of money. 'cos I did not admit but the pressure mounted on me then, pushed me crashing in the walls of surrender. A househelp had crept behind me and found his way to my uniform. Obviously I had no bank account and the most used clothes carried the money. So he found the money stashed in one of the pockets. I went numb,it was over for me.

The biggest lesson I learnt then was that my mum could kill me if my career would suggest anything like theft. I now know that she actually loved me and would by all means raise a child who would have respect for other people's property. But she never believed in a diplomatic approach esp.where her kids were involved.
She would hit us as though it was a of blessings to all of us.

I mastered the art of self reliant even in the hardest of situations. This is the best part of life,self reliant. Though its not entirely true,is it? Years later, when I asked her about the beating,she gave this story.......