jess in the mundane

Two posts in a month? Who do I think I am, right? Well, this is part 2 of the prior post, University, a memoir, and I again thank my stars that I do not have to write this from scratch.

Let’s jump right in, shall we?

Here are three challenges I faced in University:

Challenge 1: Lethargy and Lecturers.
I never regarded age as a disadvantage. For some reason, I had been given the motivation of a thousand suns. I was one of those, ‘if you believe, you will achieve’ dreamers. I attribute this trait to teachings from my parents and Sunday-school teachers. As a child, I believed that there wasn’t anything I couldn’t accomplish if I put my mind to it, so I always performed well academically. Ironically, I never put commensurate effort into studying. As a gifted crammer and serial procrastinator, I had the ability to coast through an entire school term with an empty head, then, a day before exams, magnificently fill my brain and ace exams. This method had worked remarkably well for me, and I managed to fool everyone into thinking I was a brainiac. Truth was, even I was amazed at how well I performed. I was the embodiment of an oxymoron, the lazy successful student.

Sadly, my cozy bubble instantly burst in freshman year. I had met a few mighty adversaries. The first was impromptu tests. I was not aware that such a thing existed. “How on earth could a lecturer call for a test without previously informing students? This is absurd!”. It took a little over two weeks for me to wake up from my delusion and adapt to how things were done, that is, if I didn’t want to fail. The second hurdle was difficult lecturers. There exists a league of demonic spawn unsuspecting freshmen must collide with in Uni, whom I think have made an oath to frustrate student’s lives. You know those lecturers that teach A+B-C=D in class and in exams set Precisely.

The third obstacle was class size. My class was ginormous. We were over 300 students, divided across two cohorts. My cohort had over a hundred students. Coming from a high school with an average class size of 40 to this, there was no way of getting my head above water, especially considering how sad my continuous assessment scores were. I initially felt very intimidated. Yet, for some reason, when I got back my mediocre mid-terms, I had this deep annoyance brewing in me. I remember once sitting in my room alone, looking at a 7/15 score and audibly scolding myself, “What is this? What is actually wrong with you, Jessica? This is not you”. And just like that, your girl vexed, used her remaining pocket money to purchase the annoyingly expensive textbooks lecturers supposedly used, and determined never again to see such ridiculous scores. “If it is efiko they want to see, they will see it in 3D”. I crammed intensely for finals, determined to squeeze every percentage I could. “Sir, you will pass me, …no, you must pass me well.”

Challenge 2: Impostor Syndrome.
The following semester, I remember this very ordinary day in class. As the lecturer lectured, yours truly was head down, punching figures into her calculator, trying to guesstimate her scores in the last exams. I had a friend, s/o to you Toni :), who showed me how GPAs worked, and we figured it would be best to prep our minds for our grades sooner, rather than later. There were a few subjects I was sure of swiping an A in. Still, I sensed some dreaded B’s in my near future. My C.A scores weren’t great, and I wasn’t certain how exam would turn out. But, avoiding over-optimism and leaving large error margins I knew failure was not my portion. My analysis was abruptly interrupted when a student from the student association walked into class and asked for a someone. I believe the name he mentioned was Chinaza.

Truth be told, and as ridiculous as this may sound, I had no idea that was me. I never use my Igbo name, not that I have anything against it, on the contrary, I love it. Thing is, I have never been called by that name in school, so I don’t respond it. I just wondered, “huh? who is that? Maybe he can check the other class since it appears the person isn’t here.” Well, long story short, the full name was called, and I freaked out when I learned it was me. My brain immediately went into panic mode. Was I being suspended? Was I being called in to the disciplinary panel? What did I do? Another classmate’s name was also called, making me feel a little bit better, and then, we were escorted to a meeting at student association building.

Brethren, at this point, I re-commence freaking out. Putting two and two together, I assume I may be in much deeper crap. The kind of crap where a student association rep needs to summon me. We got to the meeting and learnt that we received the highest scores in our department in the last exams. I literally wanted to pass out. The rest of the meeting was a blur owing to the fact that adrenaline was coursing through my veins, but I remember there were other students summoned and congratulated for their performances. I also remember trying to calm myself down by thinking haha, okay I know what’s happening here. There’s definitely some sort of grading or collation error. Such a pity that y’all believe you have the right person. I will believe it only when I see it.

The next few weeks felt like a dream. Grades were posted and I saw my scores with my own eyes. There was no denying now. It was almost like an out of body experience. I was very surprised, but not happy. I genuinely felt I did not earn those scores. I barely participated in class and knew there were others who deserved it more. I actually remember being lowkey angry with God. I felt He went overboard. I just wanted to pass my exams, and instead ended up in the top 1%. I didn’t pray for this; I didn’t want it. I didn’t like the attention, and I didn’t want people befriend me simply because I was smart, because even I didn’t think I was smart! I wasn’t special, just great at memorizing, had decent comprehension skills, and tons of luck.

It took me a while to learn that this was in fact imposter syndrome. I had traces of it in high school, but it got worse in college. Many times, I felt like I didn’t deserve my grades. I felt like a fraud, and sometimes wished someone would just surpass me in the rankings so I could relax. I was also worried my teachers would start to expect so much from me. Thank God they didn’t, and I managed to remain invisible for the most part.

I did end up graduating top of my class, but at that point, I was coming to terms with the fact that in a way, my grades reflected me. They are not me entirely, but they are reflection of a part of me. And if my grades reflected intelligence, who was I to argue. I also realized that there was no harm in people wanting to befriend me because I had good grades; heck, I would befriend me if I was them! I think I always just thought they wouldn’t care to know me apart from my grades. I assumed I would be very one dimensional in their eyes- “the nerdy friend who helps with homework and study”. Luckily, I was blessed with an amazing friend group. Looking back, I realize they cared about who I was long before grades were released, and even after, never took advantage of me. I ended up learning so much from them and I appreciate them wholeheartedly even now (s/o to y’all- I love you guys <3).

Challenge 3: Professional exams.
University is not beans. More specifically, obtaining a Bachelor of Science in Accountancy is not beans. At my Uni, accounting is a professional course, meaning, regular schoolwork-load is often accompanied by professional exams. I understood that it was a five-year course, the fifth year reserved for studying for and taking the ICAN exams. Surprisingly, the fifth year was scrapped, beginning with my set. The intent was to eliminate the need for it by instead having students write professional exams every semester. Let me explain….

Gaining ICAN membership (Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria), requires the intending party pass exams. Registering for these exams, and determining exam eligibility usually required a degree i.e., a bachelor’s in a related course as a pre-requisite. If a degree is not present, then a professional certification may be presented. e.g., ACCA, CITN, CIBN, AAT, etc. My department decided to go with the latter and suggested the AAT-ICAN route (Associate Accounting Technician). All things being very equal, it became possible to pass all exams (both AAT and ICAN) in four years, instead of five.

You see, all ideas sound so delightful when they are being simulated, but implementation is often something resembling the act of chewing Garri mixed with stone (granulated cassava). Having to simultaneously take regular school classes on weekdays, and professional classes on weekends was physically and mentally draining. And having to stay back in school or enroll in tutorial centers for professional classes during the long summer breaks was soul-draining. Wake up, attend classes, study for exams, write said exams, rinse, repeat. E be like say na only we come school, because we dey chop book morning, noon and night.

Writing professional exams made me doubt myself immensely. Many times, I feared I wasn’t smart enough to attempt them, and the times when I did pass, I felt I wasn’t worthy of a passing grade. Still, one thing I learnt from the entire process was that done is better than perfect. I learned I didn’t have to have a 100% certainty around an exam. Merely having the courage to sit for and attempt them in the first place was half the mountain. Over the years, a sizeable number in my class discontinued, postponing till after graduation. Reasonably so, it was a burden, and affected regular semester GPAs. However, others who kept at it inspired me tremendously. I’ll let you know that I did not have an entirely smooth journey and failed two exams. But I didn’t give up. When I looked at those that kept going, I was sure that if they could do it, I could too. There was a sense of comradery, especially in the final year. It was like although we may be extremely stressed and totally over it, we go dey alright! Because we’re doing it together. Eventually, through blood, sweat and tears, we did overcome.

So, brethren, when you see ACA at the back of anyone’s names, I beseech you, acknowledge their past struggles. Maybe even give them a hug or silent nod, because again, B.Sc. Accounting is not beans!

to be continued…..