In the dim glow of my humble beginnings, amidst the echoes of scarcity, I embarked on a journey destined for boardrooms, risk-laden corridors, and the relentless pursuit of justice for the marginalized. My autobiography opens with a whisper from the past, a revelation born in the crucible of struggle and resilience: “From Poverty to Power, a Psychologist’s Unfinished Symphony.”

Growing up with empty pockets but brimming dreams, I navigated the labyrinth of elite institutions, where societal divides blurred into a mosaic of possibilities. Life, a precarious dance of loss and triumph, took me through the halls of opulence, yet it was the pulse of the downtrodden that became my heartbeat.

In the symphony of my existence, the crescendo was not the titles I earned or the laurels bestowed but the transformative cadence of turning around organizations and rewriting destinies. The penultimate chapter unfolded as my soulmate departed at fifty, leaving me with the poignant lesson that every moment is an irreplaceable note in life’s grand composition.

As my mother, a sage of stories, taught me the art of narrative, I wove tales not only of personal conquests but of lifting others from the margins. Even when betrayed or discounted, the rhythm of resilience pulsates within me, a testament to the indomitable spirit that refuses to surrender.

The ink of my autobiography is not merely a tale of triumphs but a stained memoir, imprinted with the ink of grief over a mother’s departure in her sixties. Yet, like a phoenix from the ashes, I rose from the mourning to amplify the voices of those silenced by society’s callous whispers.

Age, a relentless companion, has not wearied my resolve; instead, it fuels a fire that burns brighter for the forgotten souls. With each turning page, my storied life unfolds – a narrative of triumphs, losses, and the unwavering commitment to weaving a tapestry where every thread, no matter its origin, contributes to the magnificent mosaic of humanity.