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The rhythmic chanting of multiplication tables used to echo through the dusty corridors of Mr. Adebayo’s classroom in Lagos. He’d spent decades honing his craft,
Aisha’s story began in a small village nestled in the heart of rural Nigeria. Her school, a single room with a leaky roof and tattered
The Harmattan wind whipped dust across the faces of the young men gathered under the baobab tree. They were graduates, bright and hopeful just a
The graduation ceremony had ended, the air thick with the scent of hope and accomplishment. I stood there, clutching my degree – a symbol of
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