My mum was well-travelled, well-educated and made me understand

“My mum was well-travelled, well-educated and made me understand from books, from my imagination and from just taking me away on holiday once a year, wherever she could, that the world was bigger than Peckham.” — so spoke Ashley Walters, and in his words lies not merely a memory, but a map of wisdom for all who would rise beyond the borders of their birth. This quote is a hymn of gratitude, a song of awakening, and a testament to the power of education, imagination, and a mother’s love. It reminds us that greatness is not born from wealth, nor from place, but from the mind’s ability to see beyond what is near. Peckham, in this tale, is not just a district — it is a symbol of every small world we are born into, and of the courage it takes to dream beyond its walls.

In the ancient way, this is the lesson of the horizon. Every soul begins its journey in a narrow place, surrounded by the familiar — the streets of home, the voices of kin, the customs of the tribe. Yet within each of us there burns a restless fire that whispers, there is more. Walters’ mother kindled that flame in him. Through books, she gave him windows to worlds unseen. Through imagination, she taught him to walk roads that his feet had not yet touched. And through travel, even if modest and rare, she opened the gate of experience, showing him that the earth was wide, and that his place within it could change.

This is the same spirit that stirred the heart of Marco Polo, the Venetian who journeyed beyond the edges of Europe to the courts of the East. Though his neighbors mocked his tales, calling them fantasies, Polo had seen what they had not — the vastness of the world and the boundless ingenuity of humankind. He returned home not only as a traveler, but as a man awakened, his imagination forever enlarged. What Walters’ mother did for him in spirit, Marco Polo’s voyage did in body: both discovered that knowledge begins when we realize how little of the world we truly know.

The quote also speaks to the sacred duty of parenthood and mentorship. A wise parent, like a gardener, does not merely feed the child — they plant within them a longing for growth. Walters’ mother, with limited means, still gave him riches greater than gold: curiosity, wonder, and the courage to see beyond the fences of circumstance. She proved that to expand the mind is to free the soul. Even one journey, even one good book, even one inspired conversation can shatter the illusion that the world ends where your street begins.

Yet, there is also a warning beneath the beauty: many live and die within their own “Peckham,” never knowing there is more. Some are imprisoned not by poverty but by fear, habit, or smallness of vision. To them, the world remains a single room, and life becomes repetition rather than discovery. Walters’ words remind us that we must fight against this confinement — that imagination and education are wings meant to lift us above the boundaries of our beginnings.

The teaching is clear: seek always to widen your world. Read not only for knowledge but for awakening. Travel not merely for pleasure but for perspective. Listen to those unlike yourself, and let their words carve new paths in your mind. Even if your body cannot journey far, let your mind travel without limit, for the greatest voyages are often those made in thought. To imagine is to journey inward; to learn is to travel outward — both are sacred acts of becoming.

And so, the wisdom of Ashley Walters’ remembrance becomes a call to all who hear it: honor those who opened your eyes, and then open the eyes of others. Be the teacher, the storyteller, the one who whispers to the young, “The world is bigger than this.” For when we awaken imagination in another, we pass on the eternal flame of human progress. The world is always larger than our beginnings — and it is through courage, curiosity, and compassion that we learn to walk its endless roads.