Just be like your brother.

A few days ago while I slept, I had a dream about some time when I was a kid. It was about where we lived when we were still in Lagos. It's been a long time since I even thought about the place. But that night I saw myself moving in every corner of the house and even playing.

What I loved about the dream was that I saw how Dad used to help us iron our school uniforms. There was this nice smell that came when he steamed our clothes with iron. Those practices impacted my life so much that when I grew older I was so used to putting on my outfits well-ironed. Wearing clothes that are not ironed always looked somehow to me.

I knew I was smart, even as Mom would always tell us. I would always tuck in my shirts and have my shorts around my belly, my white socks, and polished shoes. She admired my ways then.

All of these were what I saw again in my dreams. I felt like going back to the past even just once. But there was nothing I could do other than wake up.

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Things changed for us when we had to relocate from Lagos to a neighboring state. The atmosphere was different, and our way of life changed totally.

Lagos was a city with electricity, but there is nothing as such in our new residence. I knew our lives had been trampled upon. I never saw myself in other school uniforms apart from the one I attended in kindergarten.

Only if we had extended our stay in Lagos for just one year then I would have graduated from the elementary school where my brother also graduated as the head boy of the school. I also wanted a badge on my uniform then. I have waited for it for years. But all of those dreams faded right in front of me.

My brother remained himself, he kept his cool and never allowed the change in the environment to affect him and his academics. Everyone was so proud of him.

On my end, I was enrolled in junior secondary classes in a new school, I saw new faces and new behaviors. I had to make friends at least to have fun schooling. I thought mingling with new students changed my life.

All of my classmates, only a few are serious with their academics, especially the guys. The ladies are the ones concentrating on classes and also topping the class final exams. I never knew much about that since I was new.

The first friend I had was a calm guy, Abdul Malik. He is so gentle and free-minded. I envy his handwriting and the way he keeps his notebooks clean and up to date. He never gave his notebook gaps or omitted lines. But despite AbdulMalik's seriousness, his academic intelligence was no match with the ladies in the classroom.

Sofiyah is an outspoken lady and a jovial one. She has been the one topping the class repeatedly. It became more like a challenge at first but over time I realized I wasn't even anywhere close to Abdul Malik not to talk of Sofiyah.

When the session ended, I failed. However, I had a middle-range result. But that wasn’t expected of me who wanted to become the head boy in my elementary school days.

We got to junior secondary two. At this point, I became worse. I lost my paths and focus. I became one of the notorious students in the school recognized for being so untidy, dirty, playful, and stubborn among students. I felt I got my real self. Why do I have to study in a school I don’t like? I changed immediately.

My brother kept his cool and while he was in his senior secondary he was awarded the badge of a Health prefect because of his sense of tidiness, calm nature, and also intelligence. I never cared about his reputation. Instead, I got worse in my path.

One day Mr Idowu, my brother's class teacher and our English teacher came to our class and asked to see my notebook. I don't have a complete note. He saw them and got annoyed. He asked for my performance from my class teacher and she even added more complaints so I could be flogged for my misdeed.

When we closed for the day. Mr Idowu called me alone and said.

“Don't you see your brother ahead of you? And can't you see your sister behind you?”
Why are you so different from them?

I became speechless for minutes. Then he asked me to take a good path, the pace my brother left was not something I should clear off.

I went home and pondered about my English teacher's words. I realized there is a lot of sense in his words. When the term ended, I improved a bit. And my classmates were proud of me.

When we got to our Final stage as junior students we had to write our final exam. I knew I wouldn't do well but Mr. Idowu's words kept ringing in my head. I sat for the exams and was among the top three students who passed excellently when the results came up. I was proud of myself and everyone was so proud of me. I felt I had just taken after the legacy my brother left behind.