When my dreams refuse to die

I was born into a life that did not promise softness. From as early as I could remember, survival came before comfort, and hope was something you learned to hide so disappointment wouldn’t wound you deeply. Yet, even as a child, I carried dreams that were louder than my circumstances.

School became my safe place. Not because it was easy, but because it gave me something to believe in. While other children played, I stayed back to read, sometimes under trees, sometimes with borrowed books that smelled of dust and old hands. I believed education would save me, even when people laughed and said dreams do not feed hungry stomachs.

There were days I went to school without food. I mastered the art of pretending I wasn’t hungry. When teachers asked questions, I raised my hand not because I knew all the answers, but because I needed them to see me. I wanted to matter.

Life tested me early. Loss visited my home and refused to leave quickly. Responsibilities that were not meant for my age rested heavily on my shoulders. I became strong too soon, mature too fast. There were nights I cried silently, asking God why my path felt harder than others. Still, every morning, I stood up, wiped my tears, and continued.

People underestimated me. Some said I was too quiet to succeed, others said I was dreaming beyond my capacity. But inside me burned a stubborn fire. I learned to turn pain into motivation, rejection into discipline. I didn’t have much, but I had determination.

As I grew older, temptation tried to distract me. Easy paths presented themselves, shortcuts that promised quick comfort. I said no—not because I was perfect, but because I remembered the little girl reading under trees, believing in a future she had never seen.

Today, I am not where I want to be yet, but I am far from where I started. My dreams did not die. They grew stronger because they survived hardship. I learned that life may bend you, but it does not have to break you.

My story is proof that persistence is louder than poverty and hope is stronger than fear.