Life Of A Finalist

For the first time, I sat down at midnight, staring blankly at the books scattered over my reading table.  **Image Source: ChatGPT** I was drained! My brain felt choked. You know that feeling when reading or studying isn't flowing as planned? That was the state of things. Well, I think it was beyond that. Plus, the whole school process? Nobody told me it would be this difficult. I still remember when I gained admission into the higher institution. I was the happiest in my house. That day, nobody had a breath of peace. I was either jubilating over the phone with a friend, or dancing aimlessly in the house. If I were that buoyant financially, I would trust myself to plan a surprise dinner for my family. Then the time came for me to leave for school. The hugs, the cries, the prayers... everything remained stuck in my head as the vehicle rode away from their sight. A memory I'll forever cherish. I thought I had everything all figured out — from lecture halls to the hostel, then to fellowship and to the library. Little friends. Just me and my books and goals as besties. And in a few years, I will be a degree holder. They said it would be easy. They said I would finish my first degree before I knew it. Registration time came and it went well. Then the big blow: ASUU strike for eight months. I used that period to work and save up for school. And yes, I was ‘balling’ that period, because I was working. But what nobody told me was that I would soon start handling responsibilities at a tender age. When the strike was called off, reality set in. My savings started swirling in different directions, meeting different needs. I still had to meet up with demanding lectures. Cumbersome assignments. Numerous activities. It was a lot to bear at that point, but I held strongly to the pieces of advice from home: ‘It's as easy as ABC.’ ‘You'd be through with school before you know it.’ ‘It just takes determination and everything will turn out well.’ What they never failed to tell me was that there would be times I'd feel so lonely. And times when making tough decisions on my own would seem like the most difficult thing to do. I wasn't told of the mental, physical, psychological, and emotional stress. And that I wouldn't only burn midnight candles, but would also soak midnight pillows in pain and anxiety. That midnight, as I sat on my chair for another routine of midnight candles, I knew that there was something loud in my heart — a confession I was scared to make — I was tired! Tired of 400-level? Who does that? Who gives up in the middle of a battle? Well, yours truly. I didn't care what anyone said. I was done with school. I picked up my phone and texted my bosom friend. Luckily for me, he was still awake. He called me. I ignored the call. The call came in again. And again. I rose to my feet and slumped into my bed, rolling the duvet over my head. He sent a text this time around. “Please, Delight, hang in there. You can't give up at this time. Just try to stay strong. I'll see you tomorrow.” Early in the morning, he was in my house before the first cockcrow, like a town crier set for an early morning assignment. When I heard the soft knock on my door, I knew it was Jethro. The moment I unbolted the door and it creaked open, Jethro pulled me into a hug. “My friend...” “My strong friend...” In his arms, I broke into tears. When we pulled away, he held my hand and without a word, led me outside for a walk. The chirping birds took over the silence that stretched between us as we walked. Then the cockcrow from a distance. And the masculine voice of a morning preacher booming through a public address system from a distance. The mosque beside us did not spare us, either, as a man stood outside to call for morning prayer. All that passed one message to me. The birds, the cock, the preacher, even my quiet friend. It spoke clearly that regardless of what happened yesterday and the day before, people would still live, still hope, and still face the new day. Jethro led me to a moulded block and we sat there. “Delight, you've come this far, and I must say you're the strongest girl I've ever met. You've handled responsibilities on your own and still maintain excellent grades. I'm proud of you.” Tears stood in my eyes as I spoke. “Not anymore. I've lost my strength. I can't seem to assimilate...” “Because you are bothered. Dee, find rest. It's just a matter of months and you'll be over this phase. How will you handle the next if you break down here?” Jethro didn't speak any further and I knew he was done talking. Immediately, something shifted in me. I knew I would embrace courage again. Not because I'm strong in myself, but because I have people who love me, and will keep holding me every time.