Not entirely oblivious to their fate, they question, nascent thoughts from awakening minds, mature ideas in the wrong context where narratives get buried, bull
dozed.
And then they grow up. The straitjacket still lurks behind their blazers.
“I wasn’t very good when I was young.”
“I failed my exams.”
“I can’t study.”
Good men with scars of school, hued to the colour of their skin.
How many can escape the shackles of qualifications?
