How my father made me who I am today

My father is not a university professor, a school teacher or a doctor. He is a truck driver with modest education who, unlike many in his trade, loves reading newspapers and keeping diaries. And it is from him that I picked my love of reading and writing. Either by default or design, his newspapers always found their way into my hands once he was done with them.

This is how from an early age, I developed interest in the written word. My interest in the written word aside, I also silently resolved to study journalism later in life.

Since my father was always on the road and our family couldn’t afford the luxury of having a landline telephone installed at home, letters became the only medium through which my father and I touched base. For me, the thrill in writing letters to my father lay in the fact that it allowed an opportunity to prove to him that I could proficiently communicate in the tongue of the Queen.

When I reached Class Five, my father bought me my first story book. The book was a treasure. Although today I can’t put my finger neither on the name of the author nor the publisher, the title remains engraved in my mind. My mother who then served as an untrained nursery school teacher would later buy me many more titles. In this manner, my parents infected me with the love of reading and writing. From those formative years, for me, there was no looking back. My desire was to read all the books and newspapers I could lay my hands on and be ranked as the most fluent speaker of English language in our school.

When I wrote my end of primary exams, my performance in English was exemplary. I went to high school and carried along my love of the written word with me. In high school, the level of my love for words doubled. I drew inspiration from the admiration my prowess in the Queen’s language earned me from my peers and the awards that the overall best performers were given.

I sat for my O-level examinations and once again registered sterling performance. Sadly, I never lived my career journalism dream. I became a career teacher instead. I have, with time, learnt to love teaching since I have realised that it offers an academically stimulating environment that every good reader and writer needs to thrive. You see, today I’m a teacher, a reader and a writer.

Modern-day parents abhor reading and, tragically, they have passed on this culture to their children. As a practicing teacher, I oftentimes encounter learners who have difficulty  writing. I do not hesitate to point out to such learners that their challenges in writing emanate from their failure to read widely. To nurture the reading and writing talents in our children, parents have to tear themselves off their sophisticated phones and television sets and embrace leisure reading. This way, they will impact positively in so far as the language development of their children is concerned.

Fellow teachers too, should aspire to be proficient communicators regardless of their subjects of specialisation.

They should lead the learners towards the discovery of the beauty and power of words. In fact, throughout my entire education experience, I have always loved and paid undivided attention to teachers who observe felicity when it comes to the use of language. Teachers who found themselves in the teaching profession ‘by accident’, as many normally say, should not waste time nursing their disappointments.

Instead, they should strive towards making a positive and memorable impact in the lives of the learners under their care. Let us teach children about the love of reading and writing since a child who acquires this love at the right time will not have difficulties in the other subjects taught in school.

I’ll pen off by joining teacher Vivere Nandiemo in declaring that I too, like him, love teaching. And I, too, like him have a deep love and reverence for writing.

Nobert Oluoch Ndisio is a teacher and budding author from Migori County. What’s on your mind?  Send your reflections to: [email protected]