The Story Behind My First “Hello, World!” Program

Mohamed Bouhsina
5 min readMar 6, 2021
The Connection Age

The Social Network

In my teenage years, the video store was one of my favorite places to hang out. The thrill of wandering the aisles without anything specific in mind was truly unique. Unlike today, where it only takes minutes online to find something good to watch without the burden of commitment, picking up a movie at the store on a Friday night had the power to either make or break the weekend.

In the early 2010s, I was a massive fan of action movies. The clerk at my regular shop was well acquainted with my preference and knew that other genres weren’t exactly my cup of tea. I will never forget the night I picked up The Social Network from the “new releases” shelf. I could tell by the look on his face that he was reluctant to recommend it. Nonetheless, it caught my attention because the name reminded me of something very familiar.

I asked him what the movie was about. “The founding of Facebook,” he replied, clarifying the meaning behind the title. The dormant nerd inside of me was instantly hooked, but he went on to explain that the story was at times hard to follow. On any other day, I would have considered his advice, but in that particular instance, overcome by curiosity, I took a leap of faith.

After I got home, I inserted the movie into my laptop and took it to bed. The song Ball and Biscuit started playing over the opening credits immediately after I hit the play button. From the black, I was introduced to lightning fast-talking Jesse Eisenberg — my signal to turn on subtitles. Several minutes into the movie and confused by half the dialogue exchanged, the story started dealing with two different lawsuits. By that point, exhausted and tucked up in bed, I was just looking for an excuse to drop off. The opportunity soon presented itself in the form of an administrative board hearing, which I grabbed with both hands, and then fell asleep.

Bicycle for the Mind

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been the go-to guy my family relied on to fix their computer “issues.” They used to have the utmost gratitude for the most basic assistance. My uncle once called me a lifesaver for bringing back his missing taskbar on Windows. My life-saving skills earned me the title of “young technician” among my family, which, if anything, made me feel like a fraud.

I’ve been around computers and the internet since I was nine. I spent the better part of my childhood bothering my friends with Nudges on MSN Messenger, overflowing my hard drive with programs whose trial periods had expired, and reinstalling Windows XP on the odd occasion. I was somewhat comfortable behind the screen, albeit nothing more than a casual user.

However, the process by which a computer comes to life has always fascinated me. A conglomerate of plastic, metal, and glass can be turned into a machine capable of receiving complicated instructions and returning comprehensible feedback on-the-spot. For years, I had never given much thought to what makes this elemental marriage possible. To some extent, I was aware of the differences between hardware and software, but I was ignorant of anything remotely related to programming — the missing piece of the puzzle that combines the two together.

The Connection Age

I finished watching The Social Network the next morning, with little hope of enjoying the rest of the story after it put me to sleep the night before. Yet, by the time the movie cut to black, I was lost for words and feeling something akin to a spiritual revelation.

Here’s a rundown of everything I felt but couldn’t express until now.

My eyes have been opened to the fact that the internet transcends the concept of borders. Whether you live in a nation that has been independent for centuries, or whose borderlines have been drawn with a ruler in the break of decolonization, access to the internet has allowed for the same head start to all of us. In a bizarre kind of way, it’s as if we were all born in the same place at the right time.

The internet has put an end to gatekeepers — the number one obstacle standing between our voices and the world. Today, the cost of entry to virtually anything is at an all-time low. This has led people from all around the world to ditch their nine-to-fives in pursuit of their dreams, achieving professional satisfaction and earning financial freedom along the way.

We have entered a new age. Long gone are the days when success was measured by the industrial ruler. For the past hundred years or so, the path to success was practically carved in stone — it was the college diploma, the house in the suburbs, and the car in the driveway. Today, the connection age has shaken up that status quo. For the first time since the dawn of man, gathering a following has become democratized. As a result, leadership is growing into the new status by which social standing is measured, which is a good thing because leadership, in essence, breeds progress.

Long story short, the internet is a place that defies the tyranny of precedent. We have been empowered to a degree never seen before. We are witnesses to the greatest revolution of all time, and it’s ours for the taking.

Hello, World!

The reverberations of having seen The Social Network echo still. As for that momentous morning, after The Beatles wrapped up the film, it inspired in me a sense of curiosity to explore what was long overdue.

At fourteen years old, I searched the Web for a way to learn how to code. I stumbled across a website that went by the name of Site du Zéro. Among the many courses listed on the site, I settled on Learn Programming With C. I was instantly captivated, and the author did a great job of building up the course to the most exciting part.

Having installed all the necessary software, I was at long last about to write my first program ever; in an effort to preserve the unwritten tradition, I learned how to print Hello, World! on the screen, thereby closing the gap between the “young technician” and me.

--

--

Mohamed Bouhsina

Words are a very lossy compression of thought. I try my best to write things.