My father. He taught me how to solve my own problems. When I was in primary school, I remember going to him with Math problems I did not know how to solve. What did he do? He took a long look at it and asked me for the textbook. When I brought it to him, he asked me to search for the answers myself. He said the answer must be in there, somewhere. Growing up, our house was a constant work in progress. Things needed fixing. Like I believe all houses do. When he fixed a light bulb, he got me to hold the ladder. Trim the wires for a faulty power cord, I was asked to watch. The roof needed fixing, I was his assistant tasked to pass him all the tools he needed. He once demonstrated how to suck out the gunk from the AC pipe. Mom stopped him before he could ask if we wanted to try. He let us squat at the back of the lorry while he drove around the neighbourhood. Then, it was just me and my sister. Mind you, we were still in our diapers. He dabbled into ...