I was a ten year old who couldn't read. This changed in 2021 and turned my life around. My parents were  worried after having tried in so many ways to help me learn to read with little success. They finally   decided to introduce me to the community  library. 

I had never been to a library before  so I was a little scared about what would happen going to a place full of books I can't read.

On the first day, when I was going to the library, my parents told me to try and  read two books and write the words I could not pronounce in the books in my jotter.  When I got to the library I selected two books and began jotting down the big words.  I tried to say the words  out loud but it was the library so I had to do so in whispers. I went through the books really fast because the pages were not that many and I couldn't read much anyway.

 When I returned home, I showed the words I could not pronounce to my parents and they helped me to pronounce them. It was difficult at the beginning but little by little I was able to do so. 

I continued spending time in the library for a long while, going through two new books each time and writing down words I could not identify or pronounce.. My mum and dad took time everyday to help me learn the words: their meanings and how to pronounce them.

On one occasion at the library, I selected two new books as I had been doing, when i opened the first page I found I could read most of the words, happy, I began to open the other pages quickly, with each new page I could identify more words and read them in whispers.  I began  to follow the story the writer was telling. This made me so happy I forgot to write down the new words I did not know. Over time with dedication and more  practice my reading improved.

Learning how to read in 2021 after so many years of struggle  made a big impact in my life.

I've  learnt lots of new words which I have also looked up their meanings in the dictionary

I now read more smoothly than I use to  and I am  working on getting better. My mother reminds me often that practice makes perfect.

I am  -confident and not shy to answer questions in class. I feel grown up because I am learning a lot of things, I read all the writings I see on billboards by the roadside. It is so much fun!  I am glad  my parents no longer have to read everything to me before I do my homework.

I am  learning from my favourite authors how ro  write my own stories. Creating my stories is fun! My teacher says reading is needed in  everything we do,not just at school but in life as well.

Knowing how to read helped me with my school work. It improved  my english essay. I began making  the highest scores in English language tests  at school.

My regular visits to the library has taught me about  great Ghanaian and African writers like  Efua Theodora Sunderland and Wole Soyinka from Nigeria.  I have read some of their famous works  like  "Chronicles from the land of the happiest people on earth’ and the ‘Interpreters’ by Wole Soyinka.

 Also , the marriage of Anansewaa’ and ‘Play time in Africa’ by  Efua T. Sutherland. 

Most of all. I have  learnt that a person can learn about  a lot of different  people and things in the world. The library has become my favourite place because it has helped me to improve myself.

 I love that I can go on an adventure any time. I travel to different places in the world  with just  visits to library. It  it is so cool. Learning  how to read has  taught me many  fun facts I did not know.

Did you know that It is impossible to sneeze with your eyes open?

I can’t believe the most expensive book ever bought  was sold at thirty million, eight thousand US dollars, also horses and cows  sleep standing up and that elephants are the only animals that can’t jump?

 I enjoy sharing riddles with my friends  at school. None of my friends got the answer to this riddle. What has hands and a face, but cannot  hold anything or smile?

I am very  glad my parents sent me to the library. Time  at  library also helped my concentration level when reading. It also made me more  curious and  easy for me to  research as well as think in a new and better way.

If reading is difficult for you as it was for me  it will be wise for you  to spend some  time at the library or read more books. 

I lay in the dusty old mattress, reminiscing, about the memories we shared, it had been six whole months since I had heard from anyone of my friends but it just wasn’t safe out there. I twisted and turned in the bed until the sheets popped right off the side of the bed. It was becoming unbearable living in such solitude, away from friends, my father and most of all my mother. 

I turned towards the door, as the rays of the sun crept across the floor onto the wall. The door creaked as I rose up from the bed, my sister poked her head through the little gap. “The food’s here” she announced, I nodded as she hastily hurried back down. I got out of bed; my knees still sore. I gazed out the window, children running around, their shrieks muffled by the deluded man singing his heart away.

Mr. Grant, gaped at me with a grin as he turned towards the door. The miserable worker always hated this part of his rounds; we lived the farthest away from all the other families, yet there was no way he could avoid this route, after all we had to eat. He always came banging on the door, grumbling his way in about how his bus’s parts were all worn and broken from his trips here.

“What’s it, this time?”, I questioned as I peeked into the bag Mr. Grant dropped off. “It’s something called food”, My sister quipped in response as she grabbed cutlery from the bottom drawer. She was the only one who really kept it together after our parents left. Everybody expected her to step up to the responsibility, there was never really time for her to breakdown, or else the whole house might breakdown as well. “It’s beans”, I replied completely ignoring her joke.

“Oh, not again” Kweku groaned at the thought of having beans for the fourth time this week. Afua grabbed the spoon from the drawer and slammed it onto the pack and slid it towards him, He pushed it away, “I don’t want beans!”, he cried. Afua abruptly stopped whatever she was searching for and once again the pack of beans glided once again across the cold counter. She stopped in anticipation of his tantrum; I could feel the tension in the air. “But beans aren’t …”, “but nothing” she yelled back at the top of her voice. Still as adamant as ever, he didn’t even take a look at the beans. “Kweku!” she screeched. He turned slightly towards the food, his fingers trembled with fear and frustration as he reached for the food.

“I’m going to tell mummy when she comes back”, he cried, he was still too young to understand, she was never coming back. Her facial expression changed the moment he uttered those words. She turned back to the rubber bag and handed me

my food then headed to the dining table with hers. We all sat to eat, Kweku’s spoon hovered over the food, Afua’s food salted by the tears that run down her cheek.

Breaking the silence, there was a knock on the door. I slipped out of the chair heading towards the door. “Who’s there?” I inquired as I put ear against the door to listen in. “I’m looking for Colonel Boateng”, he demanded in an imposing husky voice. I was flabbergasted, I turned to look at Afua but she was already staring at the door with her mouth to the floor, Kweku lost in the situation, looked at Afua, sucked his teeth and went back to fidgeting with his food. I looked through the peephole, his decorative medals and dog chains made it obvious who he worked for but not why he was here.

“He’s not here!” Kweku yelled from his seat. “Well can I at least come in?” the stranger asked rather politely, “No, corona!”, Kweku yelled back. “Stop that”

,Afua warned. I reached for the door handle and pulled the door open. His muddy boots come through the door, His physique is what you would expect of any soldier, he stood around six feet, well built and had a few scars, probably from conflict. His hazel-coloured eyes scanned the house as he approached the dinning table. “He’s on peacekeeping duties, so there’s no need for you to be here” Afua said, trying to turn down any thought that he would not becoming back home in one piece.

He chuckled as he pulled out a chair, he rubbed his hands through Kweku’s fuzzy hair. I stood right in front of the half-eaten beans, wondering, why he was here at this time of the day. The deafening silence filled the house, only the rustle of his fingers in Kweku’s hair could be heard. He then broke the silence, “how’s life been since your dad left?”, His question was meet with no response. The smirk he had on his face quickly disappeared. “Look” he said sternly, “your dad won’t be home for the holidays, I know it’s been tough since your mom passed way and your dad left you, so I was wondering if you wanted, to come and live with me, until your dad comes back at least.” His words echoed throughout the house, a stranger from nowhere offering to take us to his home.

“Who are you?” Afua asked, all this was probably also so strange to her. “Blankson, its on his shirt can’t you see” Kweku pointing to the embroidery on Blankson’s uniform. Blankson chuckled as he finally lifted his hands out of Kweku’s hair. Was this it? Would this have been the final highlight of the year for us.

We went up to pack our clothes, my mother’s picture hang from the wall, watching her, she would have been happy if she was still here, now, all we had to do was say good-bye or more like a ‘see you later’.