I was born in a village called Mvezo in Umtata, a part of Eastern Cape on 18 July, 1918.
However, I grew up with two sisters in my mother's kraal in the village of Qunu.
The village consists of not less than a few hundred people, who lived in huts, known as randavels.
There were no roads, just paths through the grass worn away by barefooted boys and women.
The women and children from the village wore blankets dyed in ocher; only few Christians in the village wore western-styled clothing.
In our own hut, there was no furniture, we slept on mats and sat on the ground.
I never knew anything called pillows.
At the age of five, I became a herd-boy, looking after my father's sheep and calves in the fields.
It was in the fields that I learned how to knock birds out of the sky with a slingshot, to gather wild honey and fruits and edible roots, to drink warm, sweet milk straight from the udder of a cow, to swim in the clear, cold streams, and to catch fish with twine and sharpened bits of wire.
I spent most of my free time in the veld playing and fighting with the other boys of the village.
Like other Xhosa children, I acquired knowledge, mainly through observation.
We were not sent to school.
My father, who was not educated and was a pagan, had two friends; George and Ben Mbekela.
These brothers were educated and Christians.
George the older of the two, was a retired teacher and Ben was a police sergeant.
Although, my father was an unofficial priest of Qamata, the gods of his fathers, yet he kept these Christian brothers close.
The Mbekela brothers could not convert my father to Christianity, but they inspired my mother, who became a Christian.
The brothers would often see me playing or minding sheep and come to talk to me.
One day, George Mbekela paid a visit to my mother.
He said to her; "your son is a clever young fellow; he should go to school.
" No one in my family had ever attended school.
My mother bought the idea.
She told my father what George said, and my father decided that his youngest son should go to school.
I was seven years old, and on the day before I was to begin schooling, my father took me aside and told me that I must be dressed properly for school.
My father took a pair of his trousers and cut them at the knee.
He told me to put them on, which I did, and they were roughly the correct length, although the waist was far too large.
My father then took a piece of string and cinched the trousers at the waist.
I must have been a comical sight, but I was proud to wear my father's cut-off pants.
On the first day of school, my teacher, Miss Mdingana, gave each of us an English name because of her inability to pronounce African names.
That day, Miss Mdingana told me that my new name was Nelson, why this particular name, I have no idea.
I had no choice but to accept the name.
I must learn how to spell and pronounce my new name.
From that day, I became Nelson Mandela.
Lesson 10 We cease to live selfishly once we have a child.
Our children's survival becomes the top priority.
The success of our children becomes our success.
Parents exist in their children.
Reproduction is a reincarnation of self.
It means living for your child.
Life becomes selfless.
That is why a parent is willing to die for his child to live.
We live our lives in our children.
Until a parent is willing to sacrifice all for the child, success is not in view.
Parenting is a call to sacrifice all.
It includes sacrificing pleasure, time, relationship, companionship...
etc.
Therefore, your choice of companionship should be based on their relevance to your children's success.
Your friends should be beneficial to your children first before you.
Our choice of companions must reflect our awareness that children learn from everyone around.
We must also note that our company shapes our decisions.
Consequently, the quality of company we keep determines the success or failure of our homes.
The home is a school; children are the pupils, parents and their acquaintances are the teachers.
First-class teachers are good example because children learn more by observation.
A school proprietor that employs unqualified teachers will produce doom bound graduates.
Thus, parents must befriend only persons that can influence them and their children positively.
If you feel they cannot manipulate you negatively, your child might not escape their effect.
If my parents are not good teachers, my children will never be close to them.
Make your home a favourable learning environment and invite only qualified teachers.
If you turn your home to a bar, you will produce drunkards.
Make it brothel, flirts will emerge.
A boxing ring will produce fighters.