At the tender age of 23, I found myself working as a volunteer for an NGO. My role was to mobilise school teachers to organise a study trip to the National Museum of Science and Technology before the summer vocation. On sweltring day, June 5, 1991, I sought permission to meet the head teacher of the corporation school. The head teacher, a man of about 58 years with only two years left until his retirment, was seated in his chair. As I began to explain the purpose of my visit, he interrupted me. "Oh, young man," he began, "I pity your youth. Nothing will change here. Why are you wasting your youth?" Go back, try for the civil services, find a good job. Leave this volunteer work....? His words left me embarrassed, confused, and shocked. Gathering my courage, I addressed him, "My dear teacher, someone once asked a football why people kick it?" The football replied, "I was hanging in a sports shop. Someone came in, pumped air into me, and then people st...