My son my student 

By Fatimah Bakare-Dickson
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This evening my 12-year-old son engaged me in a game of Chess.

I had taught him how to play barely 4 years ago when his dad bought the board.

He was obsessed with it then and we used to play everyday before or after dinner.

Foolishly I thought it was going to be business as usual...Suddenly I saw dangerous moves and he won the game.

Checkmate was not bad enough, but he gave me a hand shake and said, “good game but you've lost touch”.

I know I had in my mind, but in Africa parents don't make mistakes they are always perfect.

Things have changed, I must admit. The millennials are fearless, objective and so bold.

Giving my translations, the boy just politely and bravely punctured my tyres. However I took it in good faith since I agreed to engage him in a game.

Suddenly it occurred to me how well these children learn from us parents and become much better than us. We are afraid to let them grow and we want them to grow, and be greater than us but we ain’t prepared and as hubby says lately we should be willing to let them fall as need arises because for each fall they pick the pebbles of greatness

In Margaret Mead a cultural anthropologist’s words, “Children must be taught how to think, not what to think.”