One Picture One Story Week //A New Dawn: Her First Day in Uniform

Steem greetings, guys from the motherland of Cameroon, and welcome to my blog for the contest “One Picture, One Story.” My story will be about a new dawn in my daughter’s life after 6 years of school in an armed conflict with no uniform.

The morning air was fresh with promise, the sky still wearing a soft shade of dawn. Today was not just any day but my daughter’s first day in a school uniform, her first day walking into a classroom without fear. For the first time since she started school 6 years ago, the echoes of gunshots and unrest no longer stood between her and her education.

She stood proudly outside, her black and white uniform crisp, shoes polished to a shine, and her little pink backpack tight on her shoulders. My eyes welled with quiet emotion as I adjusted her tie one last time. This moment had been long in coming, delayed by years of fear, hiding, and the constant uncertainty brought on by the Anglophone armed conflict in my former region of residence.

In my former region of residence, every school term began with the same question: Will it be safe? The sound of gunfire often replaced the school bell, and parents were forced to keep their children home, fearing for their lives. Classrooms remained empty, teachers fled, and blackboards gathered dust as the dreams of many children like her were put on pause.

But today was totally different as she was not just going to school, she was walking into freedom. Her new school stood tall and welcoming in a peaceful way far from the conflict. As she walked past the school gate, her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Everything seems new that is the environment, the classmates, even the way the teachers spoke. She was no longer in her comfort zone, but she was safe and that was all that mattered to me as a mother.

During the morning assembly, the headteacher announced they would sing the national anthem. The children placed their hands on their chests, voices rising in harmony. But she stood uncertain, lips barely moving, her eyes searching the crowd for a clue. She did not know the words because back home in her previous school, school days were too few, and even when they happened, singing the national anthem was not a guarantee because of the fear of the separatist fighters. Conflict had silenced such expressions of unity. Now, in this new place of calm, that simple song had become her newest mountain to climb.

Later that day, her teacher noticed her struggle and gently pulled her aside. “…do not worry…,” she smiled warmly. “…We will learn it together, one line at a time.”

It has been almost a week now in school and each day after that, she practised to master the wording of the anthem. At home, she would hum the tune, watching her reflection in the mirror as she mouthed the unfamiliar words. I often helped her, even when she did not know all the lyrics herself. Line by line, she learned not just a song, but a new sense of belonging.

In sum, she had found her place, not just in school, but in a future finally free of fear, free of the sounds of gunshots and explosives. I will invite @kouba, @pelon53 and @shiftitamanna to join the contest.