A Childhood of Struggle
I was born into poverty. It wasn’t just a financial reality—it was the lens through which I first saw life. My father, though hardworking, lacked ambition and vision. His modest earnings barely sustained us, while my mother carried the heavier burden of sacrifice. She lived a life of constant compromise, and I grew up watching her struggle.
Adding to this environment, I faced a personal challenge: I lisped. Speaking in class was a nightmare. I can still recall standing at my desk, reading aloud, stumbling over words, and hearing the classroom erupt in laughter. I sat down with my face burning, but deep inside a whisper said: “This is not your end. You will rise.”
Teachers and classmates underestimated me. I was told I would never achieve anything significant. But in those dark moments, I developed the quiet defiance that has guided my entire life. I decided I would prove everyone wrong.
