This Boring life

Chapter Two: The Ghosts of Ambition Past

I wasn't always the underachieving, sweet-toothed, gym-phobic Michael you've come to know. At five, I was a prodigy – learning came easily, and my future seemed bright. But something shifted in my last year of primary school, and my academic journey became a legend of unfulfilled promise.

I wanted to be a scientist, then a footballer (Ronaldo and Messi were my gods), followed by a capitalist billionaire (Musk and Zuckerberg inspired me). But when I discovered Boko Haram and Al Qaeda, my hero syndrome kicked in, and I dreamed of joining the defense academy. My single mom, who'd worked tirelessly to give us four kids a quality education, begged me out of it – I learned the harsh reality of war's casualties.

On a lighter note, my math skills have been a consistent disappointment since junior high – I've never scored higher than a D. It's as if my brain decided to take an extended vacation from numerical logic.

Perhaps I'm just making excuses, as my perfect older brother would say. Maybe this is just me, never accepting my faults. But one thing's certain – life has a way of diverting our plans, and I'm still trying to find my way.