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When I got my first admission to study Computer Science, I didn’t really research the course deeply. I had already picked an interest in Artificial Intelligence, so I felt I would figure everything out along the way. While I was still at home, my secondary school mathematics teacher sent me some Artificial Intelligence PDFs. But you know the student mindset I told myself, there’s time. I believed that once I got to school, everything would make sense. Before all the AI talk, I was always curious about how websites were created. At some point, I even believed you had to be part of the Illuminati to build websites. I kept seeing posts about Mark and Elon, and even though I didn’t know how true it was, I believed it back then. I don’t anymore. When I finally got to school, I started hearing people talk about coding. I remember asking myself, what is coding? That question was what pulled me into web development. I started researching, asking “stupid” questions, making friends with the top programmers in my department, and even interrogating people just to understand syntax and programming terms. That was when I began hearing names like HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. Then Python, C, C++, C#, Java, Swift, Fortran, COBOL, Kotlin, Flutter, React Native, Rust, Solidity, Move, QBasic, Go… and many more. Asking questions and doing research opened my eyes. I didn’t know everything, but I was learning. Today, I have an appreciable knowledge of HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Python, Rust, TypeScript, C, C++, and Java. And honestly, learning new things is fun.When I got my first admission to study Computer Science, I didn’t really research the course deeply. I had already picked an interest in Artificial Intelligence, so I felt I would figure everything out along the way. While I was still at home, my secondary school mathematics teacher sent me some Artificial Intelligence PDFs. But you know the student mindset I told myself, there’s time. I believed that once I got to school, everything would make sense. Before all the AI talk, I was always curious about how websites were created. At some point, I even believed you had to be part of the Illuminati to build websites. I kept seeing posts about Mark and Elon, and even though I didn’t know how true it was, I believed it back then. I don’t anymore. When I finally got to school, I started hearing people talk about coding. I remember asking myself, what is coding? That question was what pulled me into web development. I started researching, asking “stupid” questions, making friends with the top programmers in my department, and even interrogating people just to understand syntax and programming terms. That was when I began hearing names like HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. Then Python, C, C++, C#, Java, Swift, Fortran, COBOL, Kotlin, Flutter, React Native, Rust, Solidity, Move, QBasic, Go… and many more. Asking questions and doing research opened my eyes. I didn’t know everything, but I was learning. Today, I have an appreciable knowledge of HTML, CSS, JavaScript, Python, Rust, TypeScript, C, C++, and Java. And honestly, learning new things is fun.

Not Yet My Time After the school switch, my dad said I would have to be going to school from home until he could get money to rent a place closer to campus. From my house to school wasn’t very far, but with the heavy hold-up, it was always stressful. Normally, I take a taxi from my school route every day. This particular day was a Tuesday. I was very tired, and the traffic was much worse than usual. It was during Ramadan period, last year March. They were renewing the road from Abuja to my state capital, so the construction workers had blocked one lane. That alone made the traffic unbearable. When I got close to my bus stop, the road became free, so I took a tricycle to my junction. When I dropped, I noticed something strange the tricycle driver had used the lane they were still working on. Not just tricycles, other cars were also using that lane. I crossed the first lane safely. While crossing the second lane, I made one mistake I didn’t check left and right. I only checked the right side and entered the road with the mindset that once the tricycle coming from that direction passed, I would cross. I was walking slowly. The next thing I heard was people shouting. Before I could fully understand what was happening, a speeding truck was coming from my left. I froze immediately. At that moment, I started praying because I believed I would die that day. Then something hit me. I told myself, I can’t let this truck hit me. If it hits me, how will my parents recognise my body? My mum won’t bid farewell to her daughter. My dad will cry. Everything rushed through my head at once. The only option I had was to run forward and let the tricycle hit me instead. If I tried to go back, I wouldn’t make it. I started running and jumping. I remember flying and hitting the tricycle glass. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor. People were around me. I could hear them talking, but in my head I thought, I’m already dead. They say dead people can hear sounds. Then I realised I could open my eyes. I stood up immediately and ran home. By the time I got there, someone had already told my dad that he almost lost his daughter that day. From that experience, I remembered a quote from Emotional Intelligence 2 where the author said you have the choice to make things work out for you. If not for African myths and religious beliefs, I would have said you can fight death especially when it’s not yet your time. Many young people are no more today, not because they had no chance, but because they didn’t resist when they could. That day, I did. And it wasn’t yet my time.

Between education and hope: the non existing hope During our journey back to school, the coordinator gave us directions to his office. He told us he would call us to come and collect our reward. That call never came. Instead, the scholarship coordinators created a group and added all of us there. Days passed. No message. No update. Then suddenly, we heard new information: we would be moving to a different school, and there would be no reward anymore. Still, we were happy. Life continued. Later, they said they would take care of our tuition fees and that we would only need to sort out accommodation. At that point, I told myself I wasn’t going anywhere—but my parents insisted I should try. Then another update came: they would pay for other departmental fees that were not part of tuition. We agreed again. Later, they said they would handle accommodation as well. Hope was given. Then taken. Then given again. Some students went back to their former schools. Some never showed up because they were already studying good courses in other states. Only a few of us decided to continue. At some point, I completely gave up on going. My state coordinator stopped picking our calls. When he finally picked a parent’s call, he said the government would not assist us anymore. That was it. My dad bought me a new laptop in exchange for the scholarship school. I was excited and sad at the same time. What if that scholarship was my only opportunity? What if I had just lost my chance forever? I prayed and asked God to choose the best option for me. By Monday, my dad told me to prepare we were going to town. When we arrived, I completed my registration in less than 30 minutes. A registration that took me over one month in my former school. I started classes that same day. I fell in love with the school environment. I made new friends. But that was in second semester. I was scared at first because most of the students were very intelligent. But from where I was coming from, giving up was never an option. This was how I began a new life in a new university. I believe it was the right choice. But is the hope still there? The hope disappeared but I keep believing it’s on its way back. Maybe someday. But not now.

Between education and hope After we left the villa, we began our journey back to school. That same day, a protest was ongoing, and many major roads were blocked. We had no choice but to take unfamiliar local roads. Not long after, our car started misbehaving. We would move a little, then stop. Move again, then stop. Still, our supervisor insisted we continue. At some point, my dad even suggested that I should drop off and try to find my way home on my own. But the supervisor kept reassuring us, saying everything would be fine and that we should keep moving. A journey that was not supposed to take up to three hours ended up taking more than eight. The car kept stopping. Parents kept calling. Even the governor’s wife was calling to check on us. Through it all, the supervisor kept giving us hope. We finally arrived at the state capital the next day. When I got to where I stay, I stood outside knocking for a long time. When they finally opened the gate, I walked in and slept off immediately exhausted in every sense of the word. Later that same day, I still had a practical class in school.

Between Education and Hope (Part 4): Inside the Villa Honestly speaking, I didn’t sleep that night. It was my first time sleeping in a hotel. The room was big, the bed was big too. There was a television, chair, drawer, and even a fridge. Though, if I think about it well, it wasn’t that different from my mum’s room but you know that feeling. The toilet even had a heater and a bathtub. It felt like I was in a more developed version of my mum’s room. My body hardly adjusts when I enter a new environment, so sleep didn’t come at all. The next morning, I had a slight headache. I called my dad and told him we would be going to the State House. I even asked him, “Where exactly is State House?” He said it’s inside the Presidential Villa. Presidential Villa. That’s where the president lives. Immediately, I became happy. Even if I didn’t pass any exam, I was still entering the villa. Later that morning, the girl I shared the room with said she was hungry. I called the coordinator, and he said he would get back to us in a minute which he did. But this time, he told us to pack all our things because we would be checking out of the hotel. He took us to a roadside food seller and bought beans for us. We weren’t happy, but we didn’t really have a choice. When we got to the first gate of the villa, security told us to park the car before entering. We stayed there for nothing less than 30 minutes. They only allowed us in after receiving a call from inside. We couldn’t stop admiring the environment. The villa looked like another state inside Abuja. At the second gate, the same thing happened. Park the car. Wait. Phone calls. Then finally, we were allowed in. Inside was beautiful. We were given tags, T-shirts, and face caps. We wrote our names and were led into the hall. There were many students wearing the same cap and T-shirt. We were directed to sit. Everyone was looking at everyone. But no one was talking. We were all nervous. After some minutes, the President’s wife entered. We all stood up. Many dignitaries were present governors’ wives, ministers, and important people. But honestly, the cold was too much. The English they were speaking was plenty. The promises were plenty too. At some point, I even started dozing off. But they fed us well https://image.nostr.build/d9482922740907560fb49513ec95b1e6d1432251aa5d4e90609cffc86b25068b.jpgfood with big meat. When the program ended, we stood again as the President’s wife left. Our coordinator told us we should get ready to leave. As we left Abuja, I thought everything was finally falling into place. I didn’t know that another story was waiting for us.

Between Education and Hope (Part 3): The Call That Changed Everything When I finally picked my coordinator’s call, the first question he asked was if I had received a phone call the previous day. I said no at first but immediately he said “congratulations”, and everything came back to me. I quickly told him that yes, someone had called me and congratulated me. He then told me to prepare because on Monday, we would be going to town to collect our reward. That Monday, I wore my favorite gown well ironed. I went to school, waiting for his call. He didn’t call. Hours passed. Around 2pm, I decided to call him instead. He said there was a possibility that we might not be going again because of an upcoming protest scheduled for Thursday, 1st August. I went back home disappointed but I told myself it was fine. On Wednesday, I was supposed to have a class. I trekked to school because I didn’t want to spend transport money. My parents had sent me money, but my dad had already said he was broke, so I wanted to manage what I had till the following week. Just as I got to the entrance of the lecture hall, my phone rang. It was my coordinator. He asked if my credentials were with me. I said no. He immediately told me to go back home, get them, and meet him at the State Ministry of Works. He said he would be there in the next 30 minutes. I rushed home on a bike. I packed my credentials and added one extra shirt because the one I was wearing was looking somehow, and anything could happen. Then I headed straight to the ministry. When I arrived, I sat under a mango tree outside the office. I waited there for more than two hours. I was hungry too, because I hadn’t eaten before leaving the house. About 30 minutes later, I saw a familiar face. I asked what he was doing there, and he told me he was also going for the scholarship. I was relieved at least I wasn’t alone. We checked his credentials together and realized something was missing, so he went back home to get it. When the coordinator finally arrived, he complained about the remaining students that hadn’t shown up. After that, we entered a small cafeteria inside the ministry and ate. Later, more students joined us. Then our journey to Abuja began. Throughout the journey, I was anxious and extremely excited. I didn’t even know what to expect or what questions might come next. When we arrived in Abuja, we lodged in a hotel and bought food from roadside table sellers. That night, the coordinator told us to prepare. The next day, we would be going to the State House.

Between Education and Hope (Part 2): The Waiting Season In my last write up, I shared a summary of everything that happened during my scholarship journey. This time, I want to tell the story of what happened after the exam and how I even got there. That same night, the scholarship coordinator told me to meet him in my faculty before 8am the next day. Like a serious student and from all the advice older students usually give I believed that if you have an important program, you should always arrive early. So I got to school around 6:30am, telling myself I would revise properly before the exam. In my mind, I was already imagining a future where I could take the burden of my education off my father’s shoulders. My parents were happy too believing their daughter was about to make them proud. I waited. And waited. By 8am, nothing. By 9am, still nothing. By the time it was past 10am, hunger had set in, and hope was slowly slipping away. When the coordinator finally arrived, he didn’t say much. He spoke in bits and pieces, then handed me a paper and asked me to copy what was written on it. As I read through it, I realized the real task wasn’t copying it was answering a simple but heavy question: “Why are you the ideal candidate for this scholarship?” I dropped the paper. I told myself, I just have to be myself. I can’t remember everything I wrote, but I know I wrote honestly from my heart. When I submitted it, the coordinator told me to keep my phone on at all times because I would be receiving a call soon. This was around late February or early March. From that day on, I made sure my phone never ran out of battery. Every ring made my heart jump. But the call never came. Weeks passed. The semester ended. I gave up. I told myself, Maybe they’ve already given it to someone else. Maybe it just wasn’t my luck. Life moved on. Second semester came and it was one of the hardest periods of my life. I even forgot to write one exam. I was extremely broke and slowly sinking into depression. Things became so difficult that there was a week I didn’t eat for three straight days. On that Friday, out of pure necessity, I went to my cousin’s house to get food. While there, I received a call from a new number. The caller mentioned my full name. I wasn’t surprised but I assumed it was probably a scam. The person said, “Congratulations.” I smiled weakly. I was hungry. After eating, I completely forgot about the call. The next day Saturday I received another call. This time, it was my scholarship coordinator. That was when everything came rushing back. I immediately called my parents. They were happy. And in that moment, I realized that sometimes, hope doesn’t come when you’re strong https://image.nostr.build/62fd6f6dadc333156a2ead95965e8eaab33ad33a76924984bc666191e1e79b91.jpgit comes when you’re almost empty.

Thank you @Olaoluwa Ezekiel Michael for the call