Within a few days, Herimamy began to understand that the path he had chosen was not simple. Although the initial changes he had observed brought him joy and hope, he quickly realized that many obstacles stood in his way. These obstacles were not only material or logistical, but also affected the attitudes and mentalities of the young people and adults around him. He understood that to bring about real change, it would not be enough to impart knowledge or organize activities: he had to overcome resistance, doubts, and sometimes even indifference.
One morning, Herimamy went to school, preparing a new campaign to spark young people's interest in Malagasy history and culture. He had carefully organized traditional songs, written explanations of the country's history, and planned games and interactive activities. He excitedly walked through the school gates, ready to share his passion. However, as soon as he entered the courtyard, he noticed that many students seemed indifferent. Some were talking among themselves, others were looking away, and some even seemed mocking.
— "Why should we learn something that is old and irrelevant to our present lives?" said one of the boys, his arms crossed, in a tone of mixed defiance and contempt.
Herimamy felt a mixture of sadness and determination rise within him. He bowed slightly to the young man, not out of submission, but out of respect, before responding calmly and wisely:
— "If you don't know the past, how can you know the future? History is not just a treasure trove of times gone by; it contains our lessons, our values, and our identity. Every story, every song, and every gesture of our ancestors carries lessons for today and tomorrow."
Some students turned away, visibly indifferent, while others listened with hesitant attention. Herimamy understood then that transmitting values was not immediate. It required patience, perseverance, and an ability to remain motivated even in the face of incomprehension and discouragement.
Beyond the young people's attitudes, other practical difficulties arose. Gathering materials for his activities was not easy: he lacked funds to purchase instruments, books, or even visual aids for his workshops. Finding a suitable venue to gather the young people was also a challenge. Classrooms were often full, and he had to convince both teachers and parents of the importance of his initiatives. Sometimes he received direct criticism from parents, some believing his work was pointless or that he was distracting children from their studies.
Despite all these difficulties, Herimamy did not give up. He decided to turn to the village elders, those who had preserved the wisdom of the past. He visited them, listened to their advice, shared his projects, and asked for their help in guiding the young people. He understood that the strength of a project lay not only in personal motivation, but also in cooperation with the community and the support of those with experience.
The following weeks were a series of trial and error. Herimamy organized workshops in sometimes difficult conditions, using used sheets of paper as props and improvising with rudimentary musical instruments. Each session taught him a new lesson about organization, patience, and how to capture the attention of young people. He learned to adjust his explanations, ask engaging questions, and encourage students to participate actively rather than remain passive.
One day, while leading a session on traditional songs, an incident occurred: a young boy burst out laughing when an ancient royal song was sung. Other students began to murmur and mock. Rabe took a deep breath and approached the group:
— "I understand that this may seem strange," he said softly. "But this song tells the story of our ancestors, of their courage and wisdom. If we refuse to listen, we reject a part of ourselves. Imagine a tree without roots, without memory, without the strength to grow. That is what our identity becomes if we forget our past."
Silence gradually fell over the courtyard. Some students looked down in thought, while others began to shyly sing along. This brief moment made him realize that even a modest gesture, a well-chosen word, could have a lasting impact.
Herimamy noted in his notebook at the end of the day:
The first difficulties show that patriotism is not just a concept or an abstract idea. Its true test lies in its daily practice. Patience and determination are the essential foundations for transforming words into actions.
As the weeks passed, Herimamy realized that difficulties served a dual purpose: they were both obstacles and instruments of reinforcement. Every problem he encountered, whether a lack of material, a refusal to listen, or criticism, became an opportunity to deepen his understanding, improve his methods, and strengthen his resolve.
He also understood that inspiration didn't come only from visible successes. Small victories, such as a student correctly singing an ancient hymn or another telling a traditional story to their classmates, were as valuable as major achievements. These fragile, often silent moments were the seeds of lasting change.
Herimamy began holding meetings with parents, explaining the importance of cultural and historical activities for young people. He showed them that these activities did not distract their children from school or their studies, but helped them develop their critical thinking, curiosity, and respect for their heritage. Gradually, some parents began to support him, offering materials or simply their time to supervise the activities.
However, he also encountered harsher criticism. Some adults thought his commitment was naive, that it wouldn't make a difference. Others questioned the usefulness of traditional culture in a modern world. Herimamy listened to these criticisms without anger, using them as a mirror to reflect on his methods and how to better reach the hearts of young people and adults.
Every evening, after a long day of work, Herimamy would sit on the porch, gaze at the starry sky, and write in his notebook:
Difficulties are not barriers, but silent teachers. They teach patience, humility, and creativity. True change never comes without effort or overcoming resistance.
Over time, he noticed small improvements. Some young people began to listen more, ask questions about the story, and share what they had learned with their friends and family. The workshops, though small, were slowly but surely taking shape and growing.
Herimamy realized that each difficulty he encountered built his resilience and taught him an important lesson: to transmit patriotism and cultural values, one had to combine action, patience, and heart. This was not a one-time task, but a constant and profound commitment.
He wrote in his notebook a sentence that he reread several times to motivate himself:
The true path to guiding young people is through struggle and hardship. Aspirations and values must be translated into actions, not just words.
And so, despite criticism, obstacles, and moments of discouragement, Herimamy continued his work with determination. Every small step forward, every childlike smile, or every gesture of respect for culture reminded him that his efforts were not in vain. He learned that perseverance in the face of difficulties was the key to transforming patriotism from a mere concept into a living and lasting practice.
Herimamy , the chapter of these early difficulties ended with a profound conviction: the road was arduous, but it was essential. Young people needed examples, encouragement, and concrete actions to understand the value of their history, their culture, and their identity. And if Herimamy remained firm and committed, these difficulties would become the building blocks on which the future of young people and, ultimately, the renewal of his country would be built.
