I know from my mom and dad. Their shared experiences and individual life stories. I know from church. People's testimonies and stories from the Bible. I also know from my little sisters, my best friends - my biggest cheerleaders. Lastly, I know from experience. I have learned that the trick to successfully navigate through life is by possessing a teachable spirit and putting into practice what you have learned from other people's wins and losses. My parents introduced me to the concept of "love" from the very moment I came into being. As I grew into my teenage years, I was taught to consult the Bible for the "true" meaning of a word that was always so familiar to me, while strange to others. I have become very well-versed with the scripture 1 Corinthians chapter 13 verses 4 to 8 over the years as I have curiously sought to find what it takes to find and keep true love. Can one only find a romantic soulmate or are soulmates people we relate and connect with on a deeper level than is humanly possible? For me, 1 Corinthians 13 became the foundation on which my parents taught my siblings and I the manner in which we ought to approach life and all the obstacles it tends to throw in our pathways. My parents preach and radiate love more than anything else I could ever think of. They constantly remind us that it is the basis on which everything is built. It is the one thing that no one can take away from you, even if they tried. Today, I find that most of my knowledge stems from the Bible, online sermons and, most importantly, the consistent interactions I have with God. I have learned to appreciate every single interaction I have with people because I realised that every interaction contributes to where I know from. 

Unlike all the fictious princesses I've read in fairytale books from a tender age, I look incredibly disheveled at the rude awakening of my 05:25 alarm. I have to set it this way since my brain always convinces itself that "we" have "5 more minutes" after my alarm has sounded.

The only routine that makes sense to me, since the time I was in boarding school, is: jolting out of my oven-warm-marshmallow-soft-single-sized bed like the infamous Usain Bolt, cranking all the windows in my room, completely ignoring what an inconvenience that act might serve to my sleepy roommate,  and lastly, forging my way through the hallway and into the bathroom to take care of my hygiene. 

With the sweetest smile, followed by a "goodmorning" from the young brunnete I can no longer imagine my days without, my roommate, she makes her way into the kitchen to prepare our breakfast. Her tenderness reminds me of the love a lioness showers her young cub. With my keys and student card in hand, I begrudgingly make my way to the shuttle, the first and most essential point of human contact I have with other people apart from her. As our kind driver makes his way to the place we all dread to be, he does his best to tell his scone-dry jokes and even goes as far as offering a few the aux to play lively music. 

With anticipation, clear as a deer caught in headlights, exuding from our lost gazes, our lecturers use that to their advantage to make our lives, seemingly, more difficult than it already is. "Submit! Assignments! Efundi! Quiz! Due date!" The only words they seem to recite more than a priest recites a revolutionary verse in the Bible. 

As the day rolls to an end, setting apart students that managed to follow consistently throughout every lecture and those who went into every lecture room wondering "what am I cooking tonight?" I am, of course, the later. As the sun brings its shift to a close, so do I with a brisk walk back to my new home and into my room. 

Again, I am met by the beautiful and heartwarming smile of my dear friend and roommate. As I, now, take the time to prepare our supper before we dive into the books that outline our answered prayers.

In the prescribed video "TEDTalks presented by Ngozi - The Danger of a Single Story," the profound speaker discusses how easy it is to fall for the misconceptualisation of certain groups of people, such as Europeans or Africans, for example.

Growing up, my father used to share stories about the occurances of the Apartheid era and how the Apartheid government had dehumanised "black people". His stories shaped our views and understanding of what a "white" person is like. As I grew older, I began to form my own ideas about the "white race" all thanks to the type of schools I had been enrolled in. I had a first-hand encounter with "racism" or, rather, "othering" in high school. The principal of our school, at the time, had negative remarks about my natural hair. If I had not experienced any compassion or love from people of a different "race" to myself, that situation would have had a negative effect on me, however, I was taught quite early in my childhood to resist the urge to compare or group people based on the actions of an individual, who happens to look like them.

I am constantly reminded of the importance of possessing an open-mind because it is inevitable, especially in today's diverse society, to not share the same space as people of different races, beliefs, religions, etc. Singling a person or a group of people out to make them feel inferior or less than is a choice, a very poor choice that each and every one of us should strive to resist.