All my life, I carried a heavy label on my back: failure.

From the time I was in primary school, teachers would point at me in class and say, “This one will never make it in life.” At home, my own relatives used to mock me, comparing me to my cousins who always topped their classes. Even in the village, whispers followed me “That boy? He will amount to nothing.”

The worst part wasn’t what people said. It was that I started believing them.

I looked in the mirror every morning and saw a nobody. My grades were poor, my self-esteem was shattered, and every effort I made collapsed. I would try starting small businesses but they never lasted. Even in relationships, I felt unworthy. Self-doubt grew inside me like a cancer, eating away at every dream I had.

By the time I reached adulthood, I had given up on life.

I remember one painful night when I overheard my own mother whispering to my aunt, “I don’t know what to do with him anymore. Maybe some people are just born unlucky.” That statement broke me. The woman who gave me life had lost hope in me. To read more Click here.