World Vision paid for my fees and provided uniforms from grade 1 till grade 7. What made things better was that I was naturally intelligent, despite growing up in the village back in Zimbabwe.
My first year in High School was a nightmare because World Vision had stopped assisting, so my fees were unpaid and I had no uniform. The advantage of being in a rural school was that for some time they allowed me to attend without a uniform or paying fees. So I continued going to school rocking my white jogger shorts that I got from my cousin and a red, purple, and white pajama top that was given to me by well wishers at Church.
By the second year I could not stand the fact that I was the only kid always turned back for not paying and not wearing a uniform. Remember at that age I was starting to be conscious of my surroundings and one would want to be impressing girls and peers. I could not stand the embarrassment of being the only one being the odd one out and every morning at the Assembly being the only called out and told to go back home.
A few days into the first term I could not take it anymore. As a result I dropped out. My mother could not not even say anything because she had no means to pay fees or get me a second-hand uniform. I joined hands with my two friends to make/mould bricks from mortar. (My friends know I always say I am not short by design but because of doing such hard labour at age 14.) I stayed the whole year at home while seeing other kids going to school every morning. Unlike others, I loved school and I still do.
He asked me to come back to school the following year.
By the end of 2001 the school Headmaster wrote a letter to my Mum notifying her that I should come back to school as they could not allow an intelligent brain to go to waste. He asked me to come back to school the following year. My assumptions, and everyone else’s, were that I was gonna be made to repeat a grade but to my surprise, and everyone else’s, the school said I should continue with the students I started with. They trusted I would catch up easily.
When people from my Church (Assemblies of God BTG) heard the news they came together and paid for my school shoes. Do you still remember the Weinbreiner? That one. My cousin was kind enough to give me his old grey school shorts, then my brother, who had just started working in the City, sent me two of his branded works shirts, although I had to remove the pockets that had a company name. Though it was over-size, I rocked it with pride and joy.
When I got to school I assumed just, like everyone else, that I will be taken aback to the grade I skipped but the headmaster had other plans. I was told to join my peers and I skipped Form 2. Just like that I was put in class with the same kids I started with. In the second term of the same year I was made Deputy Headboy. I am sure it was a deliberate move to encourage me to stay and not give up again. (Though I always thought it was because of my big head). I passed with flying colours, won awards, went through to Form 4, became Head Boy, passed with six O’ Levels, and a clean sweep of a couple of awards.
A year later after doing national service, I came back and worked as a school groundsman and postman in Esigodini (Habane). I left for SA, worked in factories, as a restaurant waiter, bartender, manager, childminder, tried videography and photography, and led youth ministry.
Stand firm and never give up on what you love. It’s never too late.
But in all this I was never fulfilled until I enrolled at University in January 2019 for my BA in Media and Journalism Studies. I had given up on a dream that means so much to me.
Why am I telling you my story? To encourage you and inspire you to stand firm and never give up on what you love. It’s never too late. Stayers never give up!
