jess in the mundane

It’s a new month and I have nothing saved in my drafts. So I searched my Drive for a write-up I put together for a friend a few years ago. It’s a memoir of a sort, summarizing events leading up to my university admission, struggles, and other experiences. Reading it back to myself again today made me laugh. Also, seeing as the fall semester is in full swing, I figured it’s a good time to share this on here. Maybe it’ll help someone, or maybe it’ll make you laugh too :)).

I came into uni as a bright eyed fifteen-year-old in 2014. I did not struggle with admissions drama, nor set high post-UTME goals. From the get-go, it was a given. I was not going to make it into a federal/state college. I had turned fifteen right after WASSCE ended, and quite evidently, did not meet the age requirement for any university……well, except private ones….you know, those bedazzled, glorified secondary schools, as they were sometimes teased. I didn’t care though, BSc. is BSc., whether it is obtained in the forest or a fortress. I had my sights set on the number one private university, Covenant University.

Even though I originally chose CU, my beloved CU did not choose me. I missed the entrance exams for the year, which I quite foolishly argued was no fault of mine. I had sent emails to admissions asking when I could come in for my exam but got no reply. In hindsight, after about a day or two, I should have gotten off my lazy behind and travelled to the school to find out for myself. When I eventually decided to go up to Canaan-land a couple of weeks later, I learnt that I had missed every single entrance exam for the year. In fact, I just happened to get there a day after the last exam was concluded. “ONE SINGLE DAY? Ah ahnnnnn, what is the difference between today and yesterday? They should open computer for me joor let me write this exam and be going”.

Aha, but there is indeed a difference between yesterday and today. Yesterday is past, and today is present; and presently, I had entered the zone of OYO. This zone was one that no man or woman exits. It is impassable, and no amount of begging could grant me any form of reconsideration from the admissions team. Brethren, when it finally registered in my brain that this school will not be my school, and that I should try again next year, your girl was demolished. It felt as though a knife had been thrust into my chest and I was about to die.

My mind began to spiral into numerous scenarios: Me getting home and telling my dad that I will not be entering school that year- first palpitation. Seeing all my classmates going off to college and me sitting at home for a whole year doing nothing- second palpitation. A continuous reminder ringing in my ears that this was actually my fault. All this utterly avoidable, had I just come to this yeye school a month, a week, heck a day earlier- third, fourth, fifth palpitation. My breath sped up and tears welled. I did not care that I was in a building full of people, all I knew was that my life felt like it was ending, and the appropriate response for me was to cry a proper cry.

I hadn’t cried a proper cry probably since primary school. You know, the one where you wail like a baby and tears fall like Niagara. The ones that make you double-breathe (hyperventilate) and right after you sleep so soundly. Indeed, that day, I cried a proper cry. I don’t remember much afterward, but I do recall getting into my mom’s car and prepping my mind for her to eviscerate me with reprimands. Instead, she shut the door, looked up, and with a soft sigh said, “why does this school like breaking my heart?” An outsider may not have understood her words, but she was referring to this school, CU, now rejecting two of her kids.

A little context: my older brother had also wanted to go to CU. Long story short, he didn’t make a certain grade for his desired course and had to withdraw. I knew it was an emotional experience for my mom at the time. My brother however, hard guy as he is, wasn’t the slightest bit shaken. He just went home, opened his laptop and applied to another school; Babcock University.

I was not my older brother, and I made up my mind a long time ago that I did not want to go to Babcock. That school had SO MANY RULES and would have me looking like a boy (my brother had told me that girls in his school didn’t wear earrings, and without earrings, I thought I looked like a boy). My mom looked back at my sorry face and said something along the lines of, “They really don’t know what they lost today. Don’t worry, we’ll go to a better school”. In my head, there was no ‘better school’, but I found her words very comforting and clung to them.

As the saying goes, one man’s trash is another’s treasure. I got into Babcock University, a school I formerly loathed, because of happenstance. Looking back however, I realize that it was meant to be. CU’s rejection was one of the best I have ever received in my life so far. My four years in BU, though very challenging, brought with it the gift of quality friendships, unexpected achievements, accelerated character development and closeness to God. And I honestly would not have it any other way.

to be continued….