Tomide Akinrinlola was the name I was given in this world full of hate, love, disgust and pity, all life started at the age of seven so hard, tiring and somehow profitable. Moving to a place I have never known, a place called Nigeria, the country of origin of my mother and father, located in West Africa, and bordered by the Gulf of Guinea, between Benin in the west and Cameroon in the east. To start a new life with my aunt and uncle who had always been there for the woman known as my mother. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Nigeria was a fun country, with few trees mostly sandy and warm compared to the United States, with cool grasslands and trees almost bigger than the eye can see. Selling food and drinks, people rush just to make ends meet, mentally ill people running on the streets, someone even bought a cigarette, and handicapped and blind people ask for money. I had arrived in different environments, all just outside the place I will call home, a bungalow with five bedrooms, two living rooms and a gym, words could not explain that I was star struck. School was just weird and fun and disappointing. . At my new school I had to wear uniforms Chris Land was the name with light green and dark green the school color and the uniforms light green shirts and dark green pants with everyone fascinated by my accent and in some strange way they loved my pronunciation of scissors because I will never know. However they made me repeat second grade because I came from a different country and the homework was different, I felt sad, disappointed and above all stupid but this is really life, it can be beautiful but it's not for eternity. After second and third grades, I changed schools, and just like a combo meal, it comes with new friends and different environments. It was my fourth grade or as they called it fourth primary, it was my worst school year ever. If I remember correctly, my teacher's name was Mr. Ajeigbe, a down to earth man who would resort to the stick or paddle as some call it, for whatever reason speaking in class, getting a wrong answer and even speaking ill of a person so if you loved yourself, never curse a person. I really think he had eyes and ears on the wall to show us that there is always a repercussion for everything we do. The name of my new school was Mother's Joy Model College, MJMC was what we called it and, who could be the principal, it was my own god damn aunt. It was good and horrible, I could go to her to get some money or get something to eat, but when I sin I get double the beating, it was painful but you live to face it. Everyone in their own little way has to adopt, but at the same time nothing is free but how you discover it is up to you. It really seemed like any other warm and sunny day until he showed up at my door and delivered me the breaking news was him, Mr. Ajeigbe. Most people take it in the five grades, it's difficult and tiring, but in exchange you skip a grade, most people call it a progress test. Yes, I was taking it and Mr. Ajeigbe, the person I feared, hated and respected, was about to come into my life full time tutoring me for the test, he believed that even if I was in fourth grade I could pass, but I could do it what did I think? It was a long three weeks of training for the test, I was beaten, punished and not to mention laughed at. We did everything from mathematics, English writing, English literature and Yoruba, the language