I got caught.

I took the money that the Conservation Club had collected to donate to some turtle conservation programme. It wasn’t like I was short for money, not when my gang was collecting ‘protection’ money from the younger kids, but it was there for the taking and I took it.

My mother had to come to school. I had to watch her cry in front of the principal, to beg for them not to expel me.

I dropped out then. It wasn’t like school was doing me a lot of good anyway; it wasn’t like there was an abundance of prospects for me in this backwater tourist trap of a town anyway. I didn’t need an education to catch fish or peel potatoes or run a pension.

My mother was shattered. My sisters were furious. But no matter how they begged, scolded or threatened me, my mind was made up; I was not going back to school.

I didn’t have time to think of you that year.

If you hadn’t come back, I think I would have forgotten you.