You should be familiar with the advice teachers offer to their smartest students.
Just keep reading and you will become a great scholar one day.
Well, today, not many people are interested in being “just scholars”.
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We live in a materialistic global culture in the 21st century.
To most people, your knowledge means nothing if you don’t have status symbols to flaunt while describing yourself as the smartest student back in school.
But here is an interesting fact. We also live in a world ruled by those who own and control wealth-generating information.
Information is the new capital.
It is no longer weapons, real estate, a chain of academic degrees or even landed property that produces the greatest riches today. It’s all about three words …
information, information and information
And they are mostly found in the written text. Printed or in electronic format.
Yes, welcome to the world of information technology.
So the smartest students, desiring to achieve success in the real world after school, look for the best books to get that information.
I want to give you what I’ve heard some of the wealthiest people of our time recommend to any one who desires to achieve more.
Personally, I’ve been reading many of these books myself. They provide part of the secret to everything I’m able to do both online and offline despite my very limited personal advantages.
But before I do that, l want to share with you an excerpt from a novella I wrote and published myself.
With the help of Draft2Digital, anybody can publish their own ebook and start selling it on the best online retail shops like Amazon and Apple Books.
The below excerpt will whet your appetite. But will it really make you ask for more? Or even the whole book? Let’s find out straight away.
Be the smartest student when it comes to relationship choices. Learn from the harrowing story of Kofi Liko in my ebook, Regrets.
You can get your full copy of Regrets on any day just for a small price.
Regrets – Chapter 4
So opening the window had become an involuntary action for him. There were times he would wake up deep in the night and ask himself when at all did I open this window? That was when mosquitoes had started singing hallelujah chorus in his ears.
Teacher Arkorful looked outside and his eyes met a very tall coconut tree in the distance. It had always been there, as far as his memory could go. But this dawn, it looked exceptionally lonely and isolated.
He always wondered why it had been spared the same fate that had befallen its fallen colleagues. They had been felled to make room for new buildings. The loggers made good use of their remains. They were converted into timber for roofing the new houses scattered haphazardly all over their now vandalized home.
So, there it stood all by itself in the outside cold. The cold out there contrasted sharply with the unbearable heat burning inside his room. One of its branches hung limply by its side. It appeared as if it had just put a noose around its own neck to be able to breathe its last. Maybe it wanted to join the departed spirits of all those other trees with whom it once shared a loving company.
A cock crowed in the distance. Its sound pierced through the still dawn silence. It then went on, echoing through the plantain grove behind the house. It was now getting to 4 am. A stray dog run past the low-hanging branches of a tree, upon which some chickens were roosting. The sight of the dog sent the clearly-frightened chickens into one long bout of hysterical, crackling cacophony.
This noise echoed through the dense plantain grove. The repeated echoes were now greeted with the dog’s barking. Suddenly it stood still. It growled loudly. Then it started barking again. Other dogs in the neighbourhood now joined in the chorus. They sounded as if they had just seen something strange and sinister.
Teacher Arkorful yawned. He scratched his head.
These dogs appear to have spotted something unfamiliar. He was now speaking to himself. What could it be? I must go out to find out.
Meanwhile, the dark rain clouds continued to get closer to one another. Perhaps they were going to hold a meeting. The dark ominous clouds were probably going to take an important decision when they met. Were they about to decide on the manner they should pour out their venom on this quiet community? Only God could tell.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. And the dogs kept barking.
Find my books in the best global online stores. Grab your copy.
Without a shirt or cloth on his back, Teacher Arkorful turned round away from the window, held the door handle and it gave way without the least resistance. After all, it had never been locked on any given night or day. It had always been like this since he inherited the room from his deceased uncle, Opanyin Kojo Andorful. That was now some sixteen years ago.
As he came out of the room, Teacher Arkorful could see a shadow thrown against his neighbour’s wall. The bright moonlight made this possible. The shadow grew short very quickly. Without staying alive for even a few seconds, it sank into the ground beneath the corner of the wall.
It was a man. Teacher Arkorful could see his back briefly just before he bent the corner and surrendered his shadow to the earth under the neighbour’s wall. He decided to go back inside his room, take a shirt and give the strange figure a hot chase. He could be a thief, he was telling himself again.
In this neighbourhood, people hardly woke up before 5 am. On most occasions, he was the early bird. The one who would come out before the rest. Therefore, the owner of this fast-moving, fast-shrinking and fast-sinking shadow could only be a stranger.
He is definitely not a ghost. He is a thief who has been overtaken by time, most probably. He was rushing to disappear before daylight crept up on him hence his hurried pace. Teacher Arkorful concluded.
As he turned round to re-enter the room for his shirt, a sparkling white object on the ground caught the corner of his eye. It was the lightning flash across the dark clouds looming above him that made him see it so clearly.
Wait a minute. Teacher Arkorful was speaking to himself again. It was an old habit of his, especially whenever he got agitated. He bent down. He stretched his hand toward the white object. He was not very sure whether to pick it up or leave it there for his pastor to come and have a look first.
No. I haven’t stepped on it so my enemies cannot cripple me with this. Thank God I didn’t step on it.
It turned out to be a bundle of sheets of A4 paper.
Could Mariama have left them behind when she went out last night? Mariama wouldn’t use paper of this nature for anything, he thought.
No, these sheets of paper couldn’t have passed the night at this doorstep only to feel so dry in my hands this morning, could they? He seemed to be interrogating the papers for an answer. And I can’t remember throwing sheets of this kind of paper out of my door last night either.
Teacher Arkorful bent forward, stretching his left hand into the room. His hand landed precisely on his newly-acquired torchlight lying beside the lifeless bicycle.
Oooh, so a ghost thought it wise to write me a letter from hell, eh? At this time the torchlight had revealed carefully-written lines of words across all those white pages.
Well, let’s see what’s in here.
If there was any one thing that Teacher Arkorful loved apart from the moments he spent with Mariama, then it was reading. That explained why he seemed to have forgotten about the sinking shadow as he sat there on his doorstep, pulling his two knees to his chest in an attempt to avoid getting wet with the coming rain.
Raindrops had started falling. But not intensively. It felt as if they had no intention of coming down heavily now. The dark clouds, pregnant with water had not finished gathering yet. You could see from their slow, menacing movement that they were not going to allow the broadcast of any positive news on the local Golden Star FM station before the close of day.
Those gathering clouds promised doom and gloom.
Teacher Arkorful’s eyes met those unnerving words again.
My name is Liko.
12 Books for the Smartest Students
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