Money has always been an essential part of human life, especially for adults who have grown to understand its value and the problems it can solve.
Growing up, I noticed the clear difference between how adults handled money and how children my age did. Adults were more concerned about owning large amounts and cautious not to lose even a dime. Meanwhile, my neighbours and I were more impressed by the crisp notes gifted to us by our older friends and families. No matter how small it was valued, owning it mattered more to us.
As time passed, my needs began to grow and I realized that the little amounts I received occasionally could no longer buy some of the things I wanted. So, I started wishing for a time when I could earn my own money or at least receive consistent pocket money from my parents.
That wish came true when I turned ten and got the opportunity to apply to a boarding school. I wrote the entrance exams, passed, and started preparing to leave home. I was really excited, not just about the new phase of my life, but because I knew boarding school often came with the privilege of having pocket money.
On the morning of resumption, my parents called me aside, prayed for me, and my family gave me a reasonable amount of money to sustain me until the first visiting day. I was extremely happy because I didn't expect so much. Before leaving, some uncles, aunties, and even neighbours also gifted me money, all of which they still referred to as pocket money. When I added everything up, I realized it was enough to cover my needs even if my parents did not visit for a month.
The real shock, however, came from my dad. After I had checked into the school gate and completed the resumption process, the matron signaled that it was time for my family to leave. I became emotional because it was my first time leaving home to begin a life in a new environment filled with strangers. My dad called me aside, gave me some advice, and then handed me a bundle of clean one thousand naira notes. The amount was more than everything I had received from my family and neighbours combined.
That moment left me speechless. It was then I began to understand how much effort and love it took for everyone to support me on my first day of boarding school. It was not because they had money in excess or could afford to spend generously without being at a disadvantage. It was because they believed I deserved it. They knew how hard I had worked to gain that admission by merit.
Every single cash I got that day was a reminder that even though I was physically alone, I still had people willing to move mountains for me. Without my dad saying a word, I understood that the pocket money was an additional form of encouragement to focus on my studies. Most importantly, I realized it was given to me so I would not lack.
All of these realizations made that day a memorable one for me. I went from being excited about receiving my first pocket money to reflecting deeply on the love and sacrifice behind it. I was grateful to everyone who provided for me, even when it meant putting themselves at a disadvantage, and I'm thankful that the pocket money became a continuous privilege I had throughout my stay in boarding school.
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