My Personal Experience

"My name is Bashir, and I’m 14 years old. Every morning, as the sun rises over the bustling streets of Niger, I grab my tray of goods and step out into the world. My job is simple: sell enough to bring home the money my family needs to survive.

I didn’t always live like this. There was a time when I sat in a classroom, my hand shooting up to answer questions, my mind buzzing with dreams of a brighter future. I loved math, especially. Numbers made sense to me—they felt like the key to unlocking a better life.

But life had other plans. My father fell ill, and my mother couldn’t carry the weight of providing for all of us on her own. That’s when I became a hawker. Now, instead of solving equations in school, I spend my days weaving through traffic, calling out to strangers, hoping they’ll buy something.

It’s not easy. The streets are noisy and dangerous. The sun burns hot, and sometimes people look at me like I’m invisible. But I keep going because my family needs me. Without the little money I bring home, we wouldn’t have food on the table.

Still, every time I see children in their school uniforms, books in hand, a pang of sadness hits me. I miss learning. I miss dreaming. I miss the part of me that believed anything was possible.

Even so, I haven’t given up hope. I still dream of becoming a banker one day. I want to help families like mine, who work so hard but still struggle to make ends meet. I want to make it easier for people in my community to access loans, save money, and build better lives.

I believe that education is my way out of this cycle. If I could go back to school, I know I’d work harder than ever. Until then, I’ll keep doing what I can to support my family, holding on to the belief that this isn’t the end of my story.

One day, I’ll trade this tray for a desk in a bank. One day, I’ll help others find hope, just as I’m holding on to mine."