Why did I drop out of college_Introduction_Book
By birth, my name is Meinrad Dandadzi. Socien is an addition I couldn’t help but put between Meinrad and Dandadzi. On Saturday, December 9, 1995, I made my first cry and between this day and three years following there is no memory I couldn’t keep an understanding or memories concerning what was really happening but the nation’s economy was endangered by a serious decline or informalisation. In 2004, the teacher inquired about my future trade. My answer came after the whole class had thrown all its thinking about what learning is for. Fellow pupils said they wanted to be pilots and doctors, I said I wanted to be a boss. I was beaten for that.
Introduction (Current Chapter) Chapter 1: How do I get paid? Paid through the qualification and paid through certificates Chapter 2: How do I get paid? Paid through the mind Chapter 3: Learning is (1) being taught or teaching yourself or (2) being answered Chapter 4: Some of the things I was taught that kills the possibility of my growth and success, and the growth of my nation...
We are in the knowledge camp, that was the message. A place for learning. This camp is like any other camp, what is done, what is said and what is practised is what is expected to be done, practised and said is within the confines of the camp itself.
The economy was in a decline, hitting almost twenty per cent in the negative. Yet my country wanted only pilots and doctors, not people who could create room for that to happen in the private sector. And I was subdued, I joined others in practice, in words and doings. Whips faded away as career guidances became the tools to carve out my career, and I became a good historian-to-be, but, again, that wasn’t a trade to them.
In 2013, a high school and senior teacher who used Pee Price as his pseudonym introduced me and the whole class to the internet. He was comprehensive at explaining to us how best to search stuff on the internet, and, there, I was made to dive into the boolean logic. Interest bore more interest. In my final high school sitting, I got seven points out of the fifteen as I was focusing on the internet itself, the how and the why it exists.
In 2015, my hopes were on becoming a game developer and I gathered much programming stuff I needed but it wasn’t much. I lost my computer and got another a year later when I was entering college. Python and web programming became history in my life as I became an economic historian who was just a likely candidate for a professorship some years into the future. Other Pee Prices came into my life to awaken me. Each time I got up, I was falling asleep in the sheets put on me by the formal education system and I was blind that I was all it could take to get me up not $1000 from my father (to buy my laptop and even more money to buy premium Game Development Toolkits), and not a salary. I was required to know creating a business out of what I have as business people in the NASDAQ world know their business through what they have. I was required to know all that I have. After all, $470 or $25 in 1938, is Samsung’s starting point.
I had studied accounts. Not to record my earnings and expenditures using a simple mobile app and correctly utilise my entry-level smartphone. I had to kill time chatting with strangers for up to hours a day since the education system wanted it to all end in the class and get back into life after finding a job.
I had to face 2015 and fail to do something so that I would be able to learn and do something in the future. After all, I said to myself, “Know the reality about yourself before you can dream big. Knowing that all year round you only earn $500 on average is a starting point if your dreams are, by the detail in their colours, to come through anything but money as well.
While I hoped to start something, I still wanted to be employed without employing first. I still wanted to be employed in a country without employers and sinking in poverty. When I attempted business I still failed to realise that I was in business. I gave a lot free without selling first.
In 2018, I and other few fellows in my class accompanied our lecture to his office after a lecture. The five of us were an inner circle to the man, and we had the privilege to be around him in lone places without the rest of the class. A man who could buy us lunch couldn’t hesitate to explain to us the whole discourse of writing scholarly papers and publishing them.
Can I get paid, after writing such papers and having them in a periodical, a book released by the publisher who then makes money selling it? A “no!” followed my question. Another “no!” followed: What if I wanna write and get paid?
He lectured me into the reasons. He said we write to get discovered by NGOs, employers who then hire us and pay us in US dollars, not in struggling currency of ours. I took his words and put them into my university’s mouth. The university was telling me that to get paid I needed to do anything free with all my heart so as to be discovered by the employer and get paid. I had to submit, and get paid only through the certificate and any other qualification I could add to the certificate to be competitive. The paper is a qualification. Of course, our currency is not in good shape, but I was also being taught to take what my country is as inferior and salute the US dollars. The system is one of putting many under, have them admit their inferiority, learn to love to be under and be under, while affluence gathers on the tip of the cone, a tip that can be the tip of the iceberg while the rest drown.
Is there another way, that I can write and get paid? That question, just as informal as it is, came after a sea of reasons I had to take and be motivated to write scholarly staff for free, write knowing that it’s someone’s company getting paid through my efforts. The lecturer said there was no other way. My university indirectly, and through him, said this to me. And it wasn’t about just writing. Anticipating an employer, I had to perform any of my capabilities, free, build no vision of mine but build someone’s, a vision of a foreign investor and of those kids from better families at home. Yet there is nothing to beat vision, and creativity is better when it sits into a vision.
So I left. I had to cease asking questions from the university because in my own understanding of the things they don’t answer questions. The question, emanating from our poverty, is how to end poverty? In established economies like the USA poverty, in the question, was replaced by inequality. How to end inequality?
If you’re poor then given all except the belief that there is something at your home and inside you to end the poverty you cannot end it. They want us to be employed. They don’t want us to employ. They don’t teach us starting from a few dollars our parents can afford to give us as pocket money. They teach us an economy in the shape of the likes of Amazon. Our business school sticks to that startup raising millions in its first week on the Stock Exchange when we don’t have such a thing to talk about in our country. We are taught to join as managers of wealth someone managed to build not to create ours.
This is the blog version of my short book, Why did I drop out of college in the final semester?
This book is more than my explanation on my quitting out of college. It is here online to prove that education systems, both formal and informal, including the church, sometimes tend to help our poverty stay longer, our inequality to last. As this site was created to inspire you while you live your life, my writing will have its boundaries but its open ends as I am narrating my own story, not yours.
The mind opens up like a fissure naturally on a rock. It may take years, alternating weathers, then a tree growing there putting pressure, or centuries or a million years. Centuries to mother nature are half a decade to you. Be patient while it opens up to end up having some good stuff for you. Even the greatest minds need the very light to guide them. They must be guided by first opening up to what may guide them.SubjectMe (Personal Diary) 01 July 2021.
I couldn’t get to write about my quitting like this in 2019. Time passed. I was exposed to situations that told me I did right when I dropped out of college, avoided the salary trap, think of but burning the remaining of my certificates and wait for the time I could become a better providing member in the extended family and a providing father to mine, as I was taught informally to be. As the time to be a better-providing father couldn’t come (I retreated out of a relationship that was a month from a marriage because I wasn’t better yet), I started to believe I could have the power to be an industrialist and contribute to my nation’s betterment. I started to believe that women are capable, too, that when they are left behind we create another Japan unintentionally, i.e. a higher dependency load not caused by an ageing population but a population keeping reserves of labour and brains in a wastebasket but also spending on it in educating it, feeding it, dressing it and abusing it. That I could be an example to cheer the youths that all it can take for a desperate youth and graduate in Nigeria, an effort of two years working as a barber, to cross the desert heading for Europe where better jobs are said to be, is all it can take for one to be any greatest industrialist in history.
It is just that business schools are not bringing in the start of the SC Johnsons to us, and teach us well about them. Yet we are poor. We are unequal. Equality is not brought by distributing the wealth. It is in more numbers going up. When someone goes up he learns to create what’s up. When someone takes. He learns to wait for more to take.