When I was nine years old, turning ten, on the night of Wednesday 9th May 1961 in the course of the evening there was an important event in my life. I was far from home and, you see, it was the rainy season so it was difficult for me to travel all the way home and then back to school. Yes. I could be rained on for five hours walking home on the road, and then sleep for just two hours. That is not even enough time for my clothes to dry. And then I would have to return to school the following morning in the rain again, so it was extremely difficult and my father had arranged for me to stay in a home near the school when it was raining. So it was one of those days when I was looking for a place to sleep. I was walking from where I was getting some food to eat to another place where I could manage to get accommodation for the night. It was during that night that I was now trying to jump across a trench, one that had been dug for the water to flow away from the house, and I slipped and fell and broke my leg. That is what happened.