Do you help the people in need or you simply ignore them?
After sitting for Joint Matriculation Examination (JAMB) two consecutive times without success, I decided to apply for Kaduna Polytechnic but still without success, then I resorted to apply for Ahmadu Bello University (ABU) School of Basic Remedial Studies (SBRS), Funtua in Katsina State. I wasn’t given admission probably because I don’t have anyone there to help me process the admission.
I got employed as a secretary in an organisation shortly after obtaining diploma in computer appreciation and data processing. When admission wasn’t forthcoming, I saved money and continued hustling for admission.
Many prominent personalities do visit our office even in the absence of my boss. Among them is one of his bosom friend by name Alhaji Suleiman (not real name) who is a medical doctor and also anchors weekly talkshow on African Independence Television (AIT). Mostly, the program is shot and recorded in my office. Any time he comes around, I am sure of going home with not less than 500 hundred naira. He is that generous.
He always meets me studying my books whenever he’s around . One day he came in and met me studying, he asked; “don’t you want to further your education again?”
I answered; “I applied for SBRS but wasn’t given admission but I have applied again.
He went on to ask if I have a copy of the application form? I replied in the affirmative. He then asked that I make a photocopy of it and bring to him the next day.
I applied for SBRS the second time without the knowledge of my parents at the same time applied for IJMB. I got admission for IJMB and quit the job.
I was in Jos when my friend called me and informed me that she saw my name on the newspaper, that I was given admission for ABU Remedial Study. I quickly went to get the newspaper and couldn’t control my hand as I went through the list and behold there was my name. I jumped up and all of a sudden lost control of myself. I unconsciously fell on the chair close to me when I saw the registration fee. I knew it will be difficult for my parents to raise such amount of money. I called home to inform my parents about the good news but my father said he has no money to pay for my registration as he was just operated upon and he spent the little money that he had on the surgery.
It was my last saving that I took to register for IJMB hence, I looked to the North, South, East and West wondering where will my help come from?
I quit the IJMB program after serious argument with my father that he has no money to pay for my registration. He said after all the information he got from school about my academic performance wasn’t bad. I stubbornly packed my luggage and went home.
I prayed and fasted and begged God to open a way where there seems to be no way to enable my parents raise the registration fee. God answered my prayers and provided my parents with the fee.
I met this dark skinned, tall and innocently looking girl on the queue. I patiently queued behind her. The queue was for screening before we will be allowed to pay the registration fee.
She went in and came out and it was my turn to go in. I went in but i wasn’t screened because the man that sat on the screening desk said I am not from Kaduna South. He said I was an Igbo girl, I asked him how can an Igbo girl bear a Hausa surname? I showed him my father’s Identity card, he asked me to speak my dialect to ascertain the fact that I am truly Atyap and from the north since that slot was purely for northerners.
I wasn’t screened, so I went and sat down with the tall lady. I asked her if she was screened, she said no and I asked her why? She said that there is issue with her indigene form but she called her father and he will come down first thing in the morning tomorrow. We got talking, she told me her name is Zugwai (not real name) and in the process I got to know that we came from the same community.
We were able to scale through the screening challenges and we were given accommodation in the same hall and the same block, we mostly go to class together.
We were not allowed to cook in the hostel, we mostly buy food from the cafeteria or boil indomie. I am from a lower class while she was from a middle class.
My temperature was high at over 103°, I was shivering and sweating furiously. All my roommates left for morning class without caring about my condition.
My provisions were finished and I only had one piece of Indomie left. I couldn’t do anything because I was weak and in addition PHCN has ceased power. Normally we used to secretly boil indomie using heater.
Zugwai came to my room straight after class when she didn’t see me in class.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Have you eaten?”
“Have you taken any drug?”
“What can I do to help?”
“Should we go to the sick bay?” All these questions she asked in a rush.