The Things I Never Talk About

My name is Mickyas Tesfaye, though some people know me as MickyCodes in the Telegram developer community. I'm a software engineer, and I love building things. But before the projects, the repositories, and all the ideas I keep chasing, there is a story I don't talk about very often.

It's a story about trying to learn, trying to keep up, and sometimes not even having enough money to get where I needed to go.

When I was at university, I didn't have my own computer. I had to borrow one from a friend just to do the work I wanted to do. Whenever I needed it, I would go to my friend's house, and that became part of my routine.

I was trying to learn programming, understand new concepts, and improve my skills, but I had to do it under circumstances that weren't always easy. Imagine being interested in something so much that you want to spend hours practicing it, only to realize that even accessing the machine you need depends on someone else's availability.

And there was another part of it.

Every time I went to my friend's house, I would see their family. There is nothing wrong with that, of course. They were simply living their lives in their own home. But for me, having to keep going there just to borrow a computer sometimes made me uncomfortable. I was grateful to my friend, but I also wished I could have a computer of my own, somewhere I could sit down and work without having to depend on anybody.

This went on until my third year at university.

People sometimes talk about learning programming as if all you need is motivation, an internet connection, and a good tutorial. But they don't always talk about what happens when you don't have the equipment, the money, or the freedom to practice whenever you want.

I wasn't just trying to understand programming. I was trying to find a way to learn it with what I had.

There were things I wanted to experiment with, things I wanted to build, and concepts I needed time to understand. And learning itself was already difficult enough. When you're studying something new, you make mistakes, get stuck, read the same explanation several times, and sometimes feel like everyone else understands something you don't.

Now imagine doing all that while also worrying about how and when you'll get access to a computer again.

It was exhausting.

Eventually, I decided I needed to buy my own PC. The problem was that I didn't have enough money to buy one outright, so I took a loan.

It wasn't the kind of purchase you make simply because you want a better machine. For me, it was a way to take control of my learning. I wanted to stop depending on someone else to practice what I was studying.

When I finally got that computer, something changed.

The programming didn't suddenly become easy. I still had plenty to learn, and there were still days when I couldn't understand why something wasn't working. But at least I could sit down whenever I wanted and try again. I could experiment, break things, fix them, and continue without worrying about whether I was inconveniencing someone.

That computer reduced so much of the anxiety I had been carrying.

I still had a loan to repay, and buying the PC didn't magically solve all my problems. But I had something that belonged to me, something I could rely on. For the first time, I had more freedom to learn at my own pace.

Looking back, I think that was one of the most important things I did for myself during university.

Not because the computer was extraordinary, but because of what it made possible.

It gave me room to grow.

And it was worth it.

The transportation problem

Now, let me tell you another story.

There was a time when I didn't have transportation money, and I needed to get somewhere. I didn't want to ask my mother because I knew she didn't have the money either.

Sometimes, when you know someone is already doing everything they can, asking them for something they cannot provide feels harder than going without it yourself.

So I made a decision.

I once walked from Mexico to Megenagna 😂.

Yes. On foot.

If you're familiar with it, you know that's not exactly a short walk. And if you're wondering why I didn't just take a taxi or a minibus, well, that was precisely the problem. I didn't have the money.

At the time, it wasn't some motivational challenge I had signed up for. I wasn't trying to prove that I could walk a long distance. I simply needed to get there, and walking was what I could do.

When I think about it now, I actually laugh😂.

Imagine deciding that the best solution to your transportation problem is to turn yourself into public transportation. No ticket, no waiting for a minibus, just you and the road.

But behind that funny memory was a real situation. I needed something I couldn't afford, and I had to figure out another way.

I remember that part of my life because it reminds me how ordinary things can become difficult when money is tight. Getting somewhere, buying something you need, or finding the resources to learn can take far more effort than people realize.

And that wasn't even the only time transportation became a problem.

During my internship, there were days when I didn't have transportation money to get to work.

Think about that for a moment. You have an internship, an opportunity to gain experience and move closer to the career you've been working toward, but getting yourself to the workplace is a challenge.

You want to show up. You want to learn. You want to make the most of the opportunity. Yet you can find yourself worrying about something as basic as how you're going to get there.

Even writing this now makes me laugh a little. What was I supposed to do, tell the company that I had the willingness to work but my transportation budget had decided to resign?😂

Of course, it wasn't always funny when it was happening. But time changes the way some memories feel. Things that once caused genuine stress can eventually become stories you tell with a smile.

I'm not writing about these experiences because I want anyone to feel sorry for me. I'm writing about them because they happened, and they are part of the story of how I got here.

Where I am now

I am graduated, when I look back at my university years, I see more than lectures, exams, and academic results.

I remember the friend who lent me a laptop. I remember going to their house to borrow the laptop. I remember wanting a machine of my own badly enough to take a loan to buy one. I remember the relief of finally being able to learn and work without depending on somebody else's computer.

And, of course, I remember walking long distances, because I didn't have transportation money.

These experiences don't define my entire life, but they are part of it. They remind me that my journey wasn't simply about learning to write code. It was also about finding ways to keep learning when the conditions weren't ideal.

Today, when I work on my projects, explore new technologies, or think about the things I want to build next, I sometimes remember the person who had to borrow a computer just to practice.

I don't think that person knew exactly where he would end up. I certainly didn't have everything figured out. I was just trying to learn, trying to make progress, and trying to create opportunities for myself.

There were things I couldn't afford, things I struggled to understand, and situations I had no perfect solution for. I dealt with them as best I could at the time.

Some problems eventually passed. Others taught me to be resourceful. And some have become memories that make me laugh today.

I still have a lot I want to accomplish. I still have projects to finish, ideas to explore, and goals that are waiting for me. Graduating wasn't the end of the journey; it was another step in it.

But I think it's important to remember where you started, especially when the difficult parts become distant memories.

Not to keep yourself trapped in the past, and not to convince yourself that you had it worse than someone else. Just to remember that the life you're building today is connected to all those ordinary days when you were doing your best with what you had.

Sometimes progress looks like launching a project or graduating from university.

Sometimes it looks like taking out a loan to buy a computer because you need one to learn.

And sometimes, apparently, it looks like walking all the way from Mexico to Megenagna.

At least I got a story out of it.

And if nothing else, I can say this: I didn't always have the resources I needed, but I kept finding ways to move forward.

These are some of the things I never talk about.

Not because I'm ashamed of them, and not because I need anyone's sympathy.

They're simply part of my story.

And now, I can finally tell them with a smile.

Mickyas Tesfaye