By: Dr. Salihu Lukman
When I checked
in my suitcase for an air journey with two transits and three different
aircraft, I thought the only challenges ahead would be the layovers. I was
wrong. Upon arrival, I reached for my suitcase and discovered that two of its
three coded locks would not open. Somewhere in the chaos of luggage handling,
the preset codes I had chosen were mysteriously altered.
Panic was my
first companion. The suitcase was quality, expensive, and filled with valuable
items. My options? Force the locks open — which would almost certainly ruin the
case — or think my way out of this.
That’s when my
practical knowledge of mathematics came to the rescue. I recalled the
concept of permutations with repetition:
If you have n possible digits and r positions, the total possible
arrangements are n^r (n raised to the power of r).
For my 3-digit
locks:
10^3=1000 possible combinations, from
000 to 999
Let me break this point further using the probability concept. For a 3-digit
lock with codes from 000 to 999, there are 1,000 equally likely possibilities,
so the chance of hitting the correct code on your very first try is just 1
in 1,000 (0.1%). If you test codes systematically without repeating
any, the probability of success increases evenly with each attempt — after 100
unique tries, you have a 10% chance, after 500 tries it’s 50%, and by the time
you reach 999 tries you are certain to succeed on the last one.
Instead of aimlessly spinning numbers, I
approached the task with systematic precision — cycling through combinations in
an orderly sequence, ensuring no possibility was missed, and focusing on
efficiency. It was the correction permutation method in action. Within a
surprisingly short time, both altered locks clicked open.
I saved the
locks. I saved the suitcase. But more than that, I had a moment of deep
appreciation for the elegance of mathematics.
People often
see mathematics as abstract or distant from daily life, but it is the very
language of the universe. From the arrangement of petals on a flower, to
the trajectory of planets, to the decoding of a lock on a suitcase —
mathematics quietly governs the rules. The permutations I used that day are the
same principles behind encryption systems, genetic sequencing, and even the way
nature explores possibilities in its patterns.
That moment
reminded me: mathematics is not just about numbers. It is a tool for
survival, understanding, and mastery in the world around us.
So the next
time someone tells you, “I’ll never use this in real life,” tell them
about my suitcase. Tell them how numbers kept me from destroying something
precious. Tell them mathematics is not just in the classroom — it’s in the
locks we open, the journeys we take, and the universe we live in.
