While unpacking my things, trying to get my night gown from my suitcase, I saw my mother’s wrapper neatly ironed and folded in it. I was moved with emotion when I thought of my new mother and her consideration. I knelt down and prayed for Aunty Agatha my new mother. I prayed for my family and friends everyday.
I was never bullied at school, my friends and school mother, the head girl made sure I didn’t fall into wrong hands. The matron was also there to see to my needs. Sometimes I went with my classmates to visit my teacher, my school guardian. I could confidently say that Aunty Agatha took great care to ensure that I did not lack anything while at boarding school. I did well in all me exams. I excelled in my junior secondary exams and opted for science subjects in senior secondary, as I still nurtured my dream of becoming a neuro-surgeon.
I was aware of the lack of good primary health care, particularly in the rural areas. The thought that the rich are often flown abroad for treatment while the poor had to make do with the poor health facilities available brought much pains to my heart. The rapid growth of miracle healing centers and their publicity to cure people who are physically, financially and spiritually sick is quite alarming. In my quiet moments, I often wondered how if things were properly done and corruption eschewed from our country, there would be no need to go looking for miracle centers.
