After closing the failed venture of his shop, my father got offered work as a security officer. My father was studying an accountancy course, but due to the responsibilities at the time, he gave it up to look for a source of steady income for the family. And so he worked through the nights, and even at times two jobs to make a living, whilst my mum would receive an early pension due to her work accident years before. This continued for many years. Month after month, and bill after bill. As a kid, I didn’t really take notice much of the sacrifices made and the persistence required for my parents to rise up to another day.

Even though our life circumstances can challenge us, and with no certainty of what may lay ahead, all of us can’t help but dream. It may be the smallest of dreams, or they may be the wildest. For my parents, their dream was to live on top of a hill that overlooked Melbourne. Every now and then, my parents and I would take the car up to this one area in Melbourne, and gaze at the beautiful houses that sit up top as beautiful beacons that towered over the below lying roads. But it remained just that, a dream. We would never dare imagine ourselves living in such a place or such a house. These houses were built for the rich. And we were not. Still, it was nice to drive up and admire the beauty that existed around us, even if it meant we could not have it ourselves.

When the year 2000 came along, new policies were introduced by the government in Australia. These policies would impact the costs of how houses were bought and built. So this prompted my father to look at perhaps buying another house that was a bit bigger and newer than the one we were living in at the time.

My parents are interesting characters. You could say that their personalities had developed from the way they were brought up. From my father’s experiences of life, when he sees an opportunity, he pounces on it before he fears losing it. My mother on the other hand, is someone who waits until the time feels right. And when these policies began to ring in, my father looked for the next property that was available before the policies took effect. So one day my father came home telling my mother, “I found a place, I’ve put a deposit on it.” This didn’t go down very well with her. My mother still believed it was possible to live in a place that she felt she deserved. She wasn’t willing to settle for something just because the circumstances warranted it. In her mind, she was content to stay where we were because she believed God or the universe had something greater in store.

My father could not see any logic to this reasoning. And you can understand why. Some things just don’t seem realistic and other things do. After a lengthy quarrel, my parents decided to go back to that place they once dreamed of. The hill that overlooked everything down below. As they drove, they found a piece of land that had a sign on it, “For Sale”. The chances were that this land would have been way out of what my parents could afford. But my mother suggested we ring up the real estate agent anyway. And what transpired was that the seller was in a hurry to get rid of it. My parents made a modest bid and got it.

My father removed the deposit from the first house he saw, and transferred it over. Yet, it was only land and now the task became a mission in figuring out how to finance building a home. It seemed the affordable option was to build it themselves. To build a house with no knowledge of construction. But my father backed himself and my mother believed in him, this time. There were many risks involved in building this house. It was on a hill and needed excavation. He needed to find the right contractors for creating a plan, laying the foundations, organising the carpenters and brick layers. After 3-4 years of challenges and perseverance, my parents built the home of their dreams. This is where my story truly begins.