If I were to describe my life when I was a kid, I could tell it was boring. Life, as a child we are expected to do silly things, do crazy and unreasonable actions but life for me is different. Having to live in a business shop I learned things that are not supposed to be taught to a young aspirer. I had ambitions before that I thought would be my future profession when I enter collegiate, trying to do good in class was what I wanted when I was in elementary for me to become what I aspired to be. I always listened to my parents and I understood their insights that “one who does not do good in his education will not have a successful life”, at some point they were right I thought of myself, but I figured that they were not wrong all the way. I studied hard and gained awards, honors and medals. It would always make me proud of myself seeing them happy of what they see at me.
If there were no classes I would then be helping my father in the shop, not because I enjoyed the kind of work he do, not because I’m eager to learn things, but because he forces me to help him. At some point in my life sometimes I planned to tell someone in the government to imprison my father for forcing me to do labour, i just dont have the guts to do it.
All of those work stuffs that I’ve been struggling continued, high school life and still I’m doing same things on weekends and holidays being his helper. It really annoys me seeing other kids playing, laughing and experiencing adventures everywhere like finding spiders, climbing trees and stealing bananas and guavas in our neighborhood. I even got jealous of those kids playing basketball since I have no Idea how to play it because all I know was to give the tools in fixing stuffs in the shop and do house chores.
Still I don’t understand why am I doing this. Is this because I’m just born poor the reason why I have to sacrifice my childhood? Im becoming a teenager and I feel like I have not been into the stage of being a child. I stopped right after I graduated high school since we cant afford to enroll me in college with my sister who was in her 4th year as an education student. What I did the whole school year was just to work, work and work until I got the chance to enroll in the same university my sister had. I could also tell that I was one of those who lend a help to let her finish her studies since I dont get paid for all the work me and my father did, it was all for the family.
Fast forward and here I am, a graduating student of one of the renowned Universities in Cebu, CEBU NORMAL UNIVERSITY. If only there’s an overflowing guts in me to tell my father how sorry I am for thinking those things to him, I would say it in his face with all the people listening. I succeded the 3 years before and now only months for me to completely finish this bachelor course, and I honestly admit it, this was all because of my father. I let all my childish thinking push me without even looking at what he has made me become. All I see is the hardwork, not seeing the gains. I must admit, all that he taught me in the times that we were together starting from my childhood was the key to accomplishing my dreams. I had used the things that I learned from my experiences in childhood to this course, this journey towards my chosen profession.
I never thought that this would be very helpful, I developed how to work hard like I did to finish the works from our customers. I learned how to be patient in my works like how I managed my time, to treat hardships as something that I should not be bothered of. If I were like all those kids playing, and wasting their times in useless things, i would not be able to survive college, I might die out of stress. I might have become a useless person both to my family and in the community. All the time I taught they were just using me, but I never realized that they sacrificed theirselves so that I could have someone to use as a provider.
I am writing this memoir as an output in our subject, but for me personally, I am writing this as a dedication to my father. I vow to this man.
Memoir
Zelou O. Condiman
JuanDwriters 