“WHY! WHY! Ughh!”
My lips curve upward as I watch Sanni grab a fistful of her hair and tug at it. I lean back in my chair, watching the murderous glint in her eyes as she glares at the screen.
She’s frustrated. Deeply so.
And just like that, I’m dragged back to where I began my Python course, my very first programming language. Yeah. I was just like Sanni back then.
_
What the hell am I doing wrong?_
Sometimes those blood-red lines in my editor made my heart race, like something serious had shattered inside the machine. Other times, there wasn’t any red at all, yet my well-written code, at least in my eyes, returned a completely wrong result.
_How?
How could I give the computer one instruction and get something else entirely?_
Many times, I just slumped in my chair, staring at the screen, dumbfounded. To be honest, my thoughts back then were simple and bitter.
_The computer is cruel.
Just one tiny mistake breaks everything.
_
I see that same question written all over Sanni’s face now.
She exhales sharply and slams her laptop shut.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Why?” I tilt my head.
She looks at me, guilt creeping into her eyes. I know that look. She’s thinking of quitting, and she hates herself for even thinking it.
Just last night, she was inspired. She woke up with a spark, rushed to her desk this morning, and dove straight into her programming lesson. JavaScript.
_But now?
Where did that spark go?_
She stares down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Listen…” I gently place the mug I’m holding on the small table in front of me. “Programming doesn’t run on inspiration. It runs on resilience.”
She looks up, chewing on her bottom lip.
“It’s going to test your patience. Your intelligence. Only the stubborn ones stick with it.”
That’s why whenever I see someone excited to start programming, I ask them why.
You need a tangible reason.
A reason that sits heavy in your chest.
If you have that, then you’re ready.
Now we only need to solve one mystery: why the computer doesn’t seem to love you. Why that asshole Python, or JavaScript, or whatever language you’re learning keeps throwing errors in your face.
“You know what?” I lean forward, rubbing my palms together. “There’s a genius master and his servant. The servant is efficient, incredibly fast, but dumbly obedient. He does only what his master tells him to do. Nothing less. Nothing more.” A small smile forms on my face. “He can do a thousand math problems in a second, but if you tell him to ‘add the numbers’ without telling him which numbers, he’ll just stare at you and scream.”
“Throw an error,” I add.
Sanni shifts in her chair, her eyes glued to me now, curiosity glinting in her jade-brown gaze.
I lean back. “Nothing can make him betray his master,” I continue. “He’s a reflection of his master. If you see him doing something stupid, then his master was careless. If you see something smart, then his master was smart.”
Sanni blinks, amusement creeping onto her face. “How come?” She folds her arms, squinting at me.
I smile. “Because he does exactly what his master instructs him to do. Exactly. He won’t take a single step that wasn’t written for him.”
“Wow,” she laughs. “But why?”
I shrug. “That’s just how the servant is built.”
Her lips curve into a smile.
“And that master is you.”
Her brows jump. She tilts her head. “Meaning?”
“That computer…” I point at her laptop. She follows my hand. “That’s your servant.”
“Every error it throws is because of the instructions you gave it.”
I pause, letting that sink in.
“I’m not accusing you, and don’t be scared,” I pat her shoulder. “You can’t damage the laptop by making mistakes. Yes, the computer has scary ways of telling you something went wrong, but it’s not trying to intimidate you. It’s trying to help you fix the instruction.”
Sanni exhales heavily, her shoulders slumping.
“Listen. Everything the computer does, it follows exactly what you told it. It won’t add anything. It won’t remove anything.” I smile, lifting my mug again. “That’s why I love it. It’s the only thing in this world you can trust with your life. It will never betray you.”
She buries her face in her palms, then drags her hands back over her neck.
“How can we be friends? I don’t even understand him.”
“And that’s why you need to learn his language,” I say softly. “Just like you wouldn’t understand French without learning it, you and the computer misunderstand each other because you’re still learning his language.”
“You need to understand it well enough to pass your instructions clearly. To make him do exactly what you want, exactly how you want it done.”
“What if I don’t even know the steps myself?”
A sly smile creeps onto my face.
“That’s what makes you a programmer. Knowing the steps is your job. The language is just how you communicate those steps.”
I nod. “You can write the same steps in different programming languages, and they’ll all do the same thing. It’s like saying ‘Play the movie’ in different human languages.”
Sanni’s eyes widen. “That’s interesting!”
Energy creeps back into her face.
“But you don’t need to know every programming language,” I wag my finger, shaking my head. “Just learn the ones that fit your purpose.”
Silence settles between us, broken only by the ticking clock on her desk.
“The servant reflects the master, so…”
“I need to be smart?” Sanni asks quietly. “What if I’m not smart?”
I smile.
I was once like that too. I thought I was stupid. That programming wasn’t for me.
I cried. I wanted to quit.
But I had worked almost a year just to buy that laptop. My brother and family strongly believed in me. How could I tell them I gave up?
Then one day, I stumbled upon a video I’ll never forget. It came exactly when I needed it. That day, I told myself: If I can learn programming, anyone can.
I take Sanni’s hands gently, rubbing her fingers.
“There were people who started with me. They were smarter than me, but they weren’t resilient.” I squeeze her hands softly. “It’s not about how smart you are. It’s about how hungry you are.”
Her eyes shimmer with tears.
“Programming sharpens your mind. It forces you to think deeply. Most problems you’ll solve are things you could do yourself with pen and paper. The computer just does them faster.” My hands tighten slightly on hers.
“You don’t need to be a genius to give orders. You just need to be specific. If the servant gets lost, it’s not because you’re dumb. It’s because the map you drew had a missing turn.”
She smiles, tears drying. I release her hands and lean back.
She swivels to her desk and opens her laptop slowly, like it might bite her.
A soft laugh escapes me.
She turns, smiling at me now, color returning to her face.
“Thanks, Oyin.”
I lift my mug and wink. “Go use that computer,” I say. “Don’t let him intimidate you. The power is in your fingers.”
I hope this story helps beginners see programming in a clearer, less intimidating way. A video that deeply influenced my own journey and mindset while learning is this one: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6BtbIiJ_rc]
I’m sharing it here in case it helps you too.
If you notice anything that could be corrected or improved, I’d truly appreciate your feedback in the comments.
This is my first programming article written as a story, and I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Thank you for taking the time to read.
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