Chapter II : My early school, Bupadhengo primary school.

My Primary School Days: A Story of Resilience

Bupadhengo Primary School. The name itself brings back a flood of memories – my journey through primary one to seven, from 2009 to 2015. It was a small, government-aided school in our village, a blessing in that it was tuition-free. However, "free" didn't equate to easy. Our learning environment was, to put it mildly, extremely challenging.

Most days, our classroom was simply the shade of a tree, our desks makeshift arrangements of stones or the bare earth. The few actual classrooms we did possess lacked windows, doors, and even proper furniture. A handful of benches were considered a luxury. Rainy days meant no school – and frequently, when it rained, we were needed in the family fields, helping with planting and land preparation. School was a struggle, and unfortunately, home wasn't significantly better.

This is a picture of my home where we reside with my mother and the young ones, built on our own with bricks we made ourselves 

Maize plantation, this is our daily duty to do the weeding mostly before going to school, and whenever it rains we had to stay in the fields.

The presence of teachers was also unpredictable. Some dedicated individuals persevered despite the harsh conditions, but there were countless days when we sat alone, with little to no instruction. Every day, we walked miles to and from school, barefoot, enduring both the biting morning cold and the scorching afternoon sun. Our uniforms, constantly stained from sitting on the ground, rarely saw soap – a luxury our families couldn't afford. We washed them once a week with plain water, resulting in a somewhat disheveled appearance.

Resources were incredibly scarce. We shared one or two textbooks among the entire class, sometimes resorting to cutting them into pieces to make them last the entire year. Pens were a precious commodity, leading us to discover a makeshift ink from the green liquid of tomato leaves, using it to refill old, empty pens. We were consistently hungry. The school couldn't provide meals, so lunch breaks turned into frantic searches for mangoes, jackfruit, and sugarcane in nearby bushes and fields. The clang of the metal rod – our makeshift school bell – sent us racing, scrambling up trees for whatever fruit we could find, regardless of ripeness. We even developed a knack for identifying ripe jackfruit by its sound and smell. Sometimes we carried cold leftovers from dinner; other times, we went without.

A Jackfruit tree, you can find them everywhere at the streets in Uganda, they are public and anyone can pick the green giant fruits. As kids we climb them, knock on the fruits to check if it's ripe, then cut down and share among ourselves 

A mango tree, it's also a common tree among the village streets and most times anyone can pick a mango, as kids we always picked whatever could satisfy our hunger.

Avocade plant , it is also a common fruit in Uganda which can be eaten as food when ripe, we always keep it for about three to four days after picking it from the tree to get ripe.

Sugarcane plantation is a common plant along our village streets, where we could always break one whenever we met them 

Sugar cane is very common along the streets, we use force and pull to uproot one for a meal, it has a so sweet liquid that young kids like most.

Life was incredibly hard. But I had a dream – to become a doctor and improve the lives of my family and community. That dream, fueled by an unexpected reservoir of resilience, kept me going. And against all odds, I excelled. By the end of primary school, I earned distinctions in all four subjects. I became one of the top-performing students in my district, and even in the country. That first-grade certificate stands as a testament to the power of perseverance – a hard-won victory amidst overwhelming challenges.

Our main water source where we always rushed every morning to collect water for bathing, drinking and for other home chores.

 Life was incredibly hard,  But I had a dream – to become a doctor or a pharmacist so that one day I could improve the lives of my family and community.