ETERNAL DEBT OF MEMORY TO SCHOOL #29 AND DEAR TEACHERS

Time is the fastest flyer. But there are moments in human memory that remain vivid for years, as if they happened yesterday. The day I, holding my mother and sister's hands, stepped into the first grade with excitement on September 2, 1995.

I can still feel the warmth of the hands of Erkinoy Zokirova, who first embraced me and led me into the world of knowledge.

The Solid Foundation of Education If we have found our place in society today, it is due to our primary school teacher Erkinoy Zokirova, and in the higher grades, our dear Umidakhan Isakova, who taught with affection,

Исақова Умидахон устоз

and the sleepless nights and hardships endured by our other teachers.

Especially Umidakhan's mastery, who with extreme gentleness, even by tricking us "rowdy and disobedient" children, made us interested in learning, was a true school of skill. They not only imparted knowledge but also exerted all their efforts for us to "fundamentally" stand on our own feet.

One of the most "extreme" moments of school life was the scrap metal collection campaign. I still remember that the Russian-owned garage cooperatives near our school were a real "treasure island" for us. We went there with our classmates to look for metal. And there, we saw a shiny, brand-new "Zaporozhets" car body! With our childish minds, we thought, "Someone must have thrown it away."

We all pushed together, sweating, and with great triumph dragged that car body to the schoolyard. But our joy was short-lived. The owner of the car body, an angry Russian man, caught up with us. That's when we saw what it was like to be reprimanded by Abdurashidova! In the face of our director's gaze and reprimand that day, the earth didn't open up for us to disappear into. It was not just a lesson in collecting scrap metal, but the harshest and most unforgettable lesson in our lives about not touching other people's property.

In those days, there was a unique discipline at School No. 29. When the name of the school director, Abdurashidova, was mentioned,

not only the "hooligan" children but the entire school would fall silent as if doused with water.

Our director had a wonderful trait: she knew the full names of thousands of students by heart. Getting on her "black list" was the biggest punishment.

However, even those who ended up on this list were not left out; they were educated under the personal supervision of the director by reading books in the library or participating in school beautification.

Behind this strictness lay the belief in our bright future.

A Painful Difference Between Two Eras

Observing today's youth and some parents, my heart aches. When we received a reprimand from a teacher, we were afraid to tell our parents about it. Because my mother would say, "If you hadn't done anything wrong, your teacher wouldn't have scolded you for no reason," and would further strengthen our upbringing.

Dear teachers! We, your students, are forever grateful to you for the education and upbringing you have given us. Please accept our gratitude for the sweat you shed to raise us as useful members of society. Your presence is our happiness. May God protect you.