From Dreams to Destiny

Growing up in a small Liberian village meant waking before sunrise to fetch water,

studying by lantern light when everyone slept, and watching my parents work themselves

tired just to keep us fed. I'd walk barefoot to school, books pressed against

my chest like they held every answer I needed. Some nights I wondered if dreaming was

foolish when survival felt impossible. But my mother always said education is the one thing poverty

can't steal from you. So I kept going. Kept reading. Kept believing that

one day these calloused hands would hold something more than water buckets. That this dirt path

would lead somewhere beyond what I could see. And slowly, it did.