Purpose is...

...The original intent for the creation of a thing
...The original reason for the existence of a thing
...The cause for the creation of a thing
...The desired result that initiates production
...The need that makes a manufacturer produce a specific product
...The destination that prompts the journey
...The expectation of the source
...The objective of the subject
...The aspiration for the inspiration, and
...The object one wills or resolves to have.

Using Google Scholar and other Google resources for education

Teacher's Pet

It’s amazing how almost everyone or rather everything has something they value more than anything in this world. People have their favorite meals, games, places to visit, presidents or even postures! And many other favorites that you can think of, yes including that one which you are thinking of right now. I was even amazed the first time I heard that parents have a favorite child, and this came from a parent’s own mouth, seriously!? O.k, in some situations, I think I can agree but not fully because even in those situations, more or less you will find the parent(s) must have played a role. Anyway, that is a story for another day.

Just the other day I was watching a movie in which a bank was being robbed or rather, it was being taken hostage because at the end, they had tortured people more than what you can call robbery. The most intriguing thing about this script was how the president of the bank reacted when he got the information that his bank was under siege. His first question was,” which branch is it?”, and that is when it hit me that everyone has his/her favorite. It was his favorite branch. You could tell by all means, his body language said it all. He at some point even asked his secretary if she can ask those guys to go to the other branch which happened to be located one street away, now that was laughable, but the old man was damn serious. He meant every word he said.

As I watched this movie, I started thinking of my own favorites and I ended up with a broad smile when I remembered how I was my teachers’ favorite. This was way back in primary when I was in my lower class, I was my teacher’s pet so to say and I would look forward to those “practical” classes we had with her. Practical here meant those times when you are learning things like, for example, the clock and a clock had to be brought to school for “practical” lessons and guess who was asked to bring such stuff, yes you thought right. The teachers’ pet.

I remember one day, in class two, my teacher sent me to class one because they were making so much noise and I had to go and tell them to keep quiet. Being her favorite, I didn’t want to disappoint her and of course I new those kids would not listen to their fellow kid despite the fact that I was older than them. I had to be smarter than them, I had to be one step ahead of them. I was not going to only ask them to be quiet, that would be mere words leading to no results, I had to motivate them and so I promised that whoever keeps quiet will each receive a piece of paper to write whatever they want. OMG!! I can’t believe I’m actually writing this, it’s one of the most stupid things I have done in my life, that means there are a few others.

To cut the long story short, of course those kids kept quiet and I had to fulfill my promise or else I would be labeled a liar. I plucked the pages of my new homework book which my mother had just bought and distributed to them. I had mentioned earlier that my mother was a teacher at the school in which I was in and what preceded my philanthropic act was a nightmare. First of all, I have never understood how my mother passed by that class that particular day because that is how she found out that her daughter had been kind enough to distribute her book pages to class one children who ended up littering the entire class with papers. That actually made matters worse, I wish they had done something constructive with those pieces of paper, wait a minute, what constructive thing would a class one kid do with a piece of paper?. The whole classroom lay white with pieces of paper. Later on at home, my mother asked me about it which of course I denied not knowing that she knew the truth. I got BUSTED!! What followed next is exactly what you might be imagining.

Broken Heart

Growing up as a first born in a family of four, I was the eldest sibling followed by three brothers so that obviously says I am the only daughter of my parents and the only sister to my brothers. It feels great when you know that somehow they all look up to you but it is not all that rosy because that title carries with it a lot of responsibilities. All you first borne out there hope you feel what I am saying . To my parents, I have to be a good role model; I have to set the standards whether it is moral values, academics, almost everything.

This was however far from my imagination as a young girl. I did not understand that I would one day be expected to play all these roles and so the only thing that mattered to me was my playing time, and this is where my hearts’ troubles begun. I grew up in a traditional environment, the traditional setting which is now slowly fading away. This was the kind of setting where all the children in the neighborhood would play together at a set apart community field, there were no restrictions or constraints of whose child you should play with, and whose you shouldn’t play with. There was collective conscience even amongst the young ones during play and that was exactly what happened with our parents when we got ourselves into trouble, they had collective conscience. One parent had the authority to discipline all of us and unlike these days, you couldn’t even think of running home to tell your mother of how your neighbor has caned you because that would mean more strokes of the cane.

Of course, all these was so much fun because you didn’t have to worry about KPLC having to cut out your power when you playing a PS or watching a cartoon because that is how it is with the facebook generation, actually those kids should get a life! Anyway, mine is a different story or maybe it is a big placard conveying the message that should have hit home, I am growing old(er), ouch! That was a hard one but it is the reality.

My biggest issue was, and yes ‘WAS’ is the word because right now it isn’t, that I didn’t have a sister. It was a huge problem especially that I had a brother, mark you, by that time they were not yet three but one, just one and I was already complaining. You can now imagine my disappointment and levels of stress when two more boys were introduced into my life. I wanted a girl to play with, one to tell my stories to and to share my room with, but the most important and “viable” reason was one I could exchange chores with. That did not happen and the pick of all these was when my youngest brother, whom I now dearly love, was born. This I must say was a blessing in real disguise and I know I am only saying this because of maturity. Such a statement at that moment did not mean anything to me.

It all started the day I knew I was going to have a sister, I knew because I had told my mother I wanted a sister and so every nerve in me was convinced that my own mother would never stand me up, I was her girl, so I thought, until that evening when my dad came back home without my mother and announced to us that we have a small baby. It was ‘we’, but the moment he said his name was Brian, it wasn’t ‘we’ again but they, I was literally crushed. You may wonder how a small girl would be crushed, yes they get crushed and that, I can say, was my first heart break. Come to think of it, my own father was actually the first person to break my heart but you can rest assured that he restored it to its original form, something that only he can do. And so with a broken heart I did what every broken hearted girl would do, ran to my bedroom, closed the door and cried and not the silent crying that grown up girls cry but the loud cry for little girls. I remember my father knocking at the door and trying to explain to me that children come from God and you can imagine my answer to him was that he should go back and tell that God to give him another baby and it should be a girl…lol, that was crazy. That definitely never happened and I pray every day that it doesn’t, reason being, I love the way things turned out. I am the only sister and so they treasure that so much because they appreciate the one they have than having none at all and of course she is able to sort them out in the house.

And for the record, I totally love all my three brothers so much and those who know me can testify of this, I would never exchange them for anything because they are part of my world, they make me the person that I am and I live my life to set the best example to them and to the youngest,  Daniel Brian, I love you so much bro and of course you too Wycliff and Obah.

In life, we are all at different time zones. Our clocks read differently though at some point, there are people who are operating at the same hour,either the minute or the second hand would be reading different.
Every new stage or season in our life is a new hour, minute, or second  and should be treated with the humph it deserves.
As young boys and girls, when we are still under the tender care of our parents, it is still the night part of our lives. We are still deep in sleep, dreaming all we want, waking up and demanding what we want because it is our right.Is it?
As for me, my night is now almost over.am at that point when the sleep is the sweetest, the wee hours of the morning when you know the sun will be out any moment but you still wish you could sleep a little more because of the comfort that you feeling.This is what we always feel at that time and in reality, it is what happens when a new season is about to begin in our lives.We have a phobia for change, we fear venturing into new territories, we do not want to move out of our cocoon because it has become our comfort zone but i belief that in order to accomplish our goals in life and to be able to fulfill our purpose, we have to leave our comfort zones and take the risk of trying out the new. I'd rather die trying than die asking "what if?"
Know your time and season, know when to move to a new level, when to take the risk but at the same time, be SMART!

The Standard | Online Edition :: Skipping meals could lead to chronic illnesses

The Standard | Online Edition :: Skipping meals could lead to chronic illnesses

The Standard | Online Edition :: Times when boys were hardened

The Standard | Online Edition :: Times when boys were hardened