This writing is inspired by the works of Allan Bukusi who has in many ways impacted my career. My grandparents enrolled me into nursery school as my parents were away studying, my teacher’s name was Mrs Gathuita, interestingly she is still alive and has the same warm smile she had more than twenty years ago when I first met her. As I was accustomed to a foreign language ,I took longer than the other children to learn the teaching language but she was so patient with me and made sure my handkerchief was rightly pinned to my left side, that I looked forward to going to school every morning, I was never late. Exit nursery enter primary school, here I met a lady called Mrs Thiaini, she was short and strict ,oh she pinched me countless times for not finishing my homework and for a handwriting that needed much attention.. However by the time I left her class I had straightened these faults. Ms Miano taught me how to take care of my exercise books and pay attention to my hand writing, I hence learnt that books were not to have dog ears, ink marks and the exercise book was to be placed in a certain order for the handwriting to be the best. Mrs Kago,was the best English teacher I could ask for, I remember for a long time I could not tell what came first in the word received the I or the E. Once again she gently corrected this mistake by giving me extra exercises on Saturday morning prep. It is here I developed a keener interest in reading and writing. This paved way for the next level when Mr. Maina (black as we used to call him) asked us to write a composition on the most interesting story we had read. This was perhaps the easiest and most interesting one I wrote, having become an avid reader. I emerged the highest and as was the tradition, He read it out aloud to the class, the pride that welled in me!