It was a beautiful Tuesday morning, everything seemed alright, I had just finished reading the remaining part of Dr Hasan's lecture topic on medical prosthesis.
"Up Steve, what do we have today?" I said to myself while peeping to see the tiny writings of my personal time table plastered perfectly on the wall.
It was just a week to the long awaited professional exam, we've all been reading and seriously preparing. "I really have a lot to do today" I said again, remembering how occupied and busy my day was inevitably going to be.
I still had discussion with class mates, I still had to attend fellowship in the evening and make sure that all preparations for getting the diesel and putting on the hostel generator at night were all concluded. that's my duty as the welfare coordinator of the Nnamdi Azikiwe hostel, popularly referred to as Zik's hostel, named after the first indigenous president of the federal republic of Nigeria.
It was a tall gigantic building that has lasted since the eighty's and really looks eighty. You could easily tell from the washed painting over the wall and even the rusty and leaky roofs.
My room was located well above on the fifth floor and I enjoyed watching the birds, and squirrels run around the tall trees while they chase one another around, in what seemed like lovers having a really good time.
The movement of the trees dancing gently to the inaudible drums of the wind always brought such soothing feeling. My room was just the best spot, and I really enjoyed the view.
Enugu is a very big city, and my hostel was located in the heart of the town. I really enjoyed the view from the hostel rooftop, everything was just perfect; I didn't want those moments to ever end, but little did I know that turbulence was knocking, determined to steal the peace I once experienced.
"What happened Steve?" Emmanuel asked, looking too serious for my liking. I just knew all wasn't well. He hardly ever sounds or acts like that.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"The list for the professional exam is out and your name is not there!"
At first it sounded like a joke, maybe an expensive joke.
"I don't understand you" I replied, looking rather surprised and bewildered.
We all knew the implication of being disqualified from writing a professional exam, the implications were really grave, and seriously speaking, that was the last thing I thought would happen to me in medical school.
I've heard stories of people being disqualified, and I never get bothered because I always made sure I attended classes and didn't miss ward rounds.
"How come!" I exclaimed looking at the list I just collected from Emmanuel's phone.
Without delay, I put a call through to Angela, our class rep.
"I'm sure there's a mistake somewhere" I said, frantically pacing around in my room.
"Yeah I understand Steve, we'll rectify it, I promise." She reassured me.
It felt as though my whole world were about crumbling.
"six months of clinical rotation and consistent attendance to lectures is all about counted as nothing because of mere human errors," I thought to myself.
"Don't worry Steve, you'll be fine, I promise. Dreams don't fade" Sochi always reminded me whenever fears and doubt arises. She's been a very good friend and reading partner. She was also part of my discussion group— I guess they were the only people that could relate to the emotional breakdown I was going through.
Weeks had gone by, all pleas to Dr Hasan proved abortive. The mock exams were already being conducted and it became very clear to me that I'd been disqualified from writing an exam I've been preparing to write for the past six months.
"The rules are clear, college demands that you must have up to 75 percent attendance before you can sit for the exam."
"But I've been coming for lectures" I replied, with tears rolling down my eyes, while I looked down to the floor, standing helplessly in Dr. Hassan's office. My mind was flooded with regret with a tinge of extreme rage.
"Well, the list for the exam has already been compiled, I can't tamper with them." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "That's it!" He added, I could sense he had made up his mind.
Four months after the incident, I wrote and passed the exams after re-attending the lectures and doing additional 4 months of clinical rotation and laboratory work.
I still don't cease to worry about the effects of inconsistent leadership and lack of reputation and character on the part of those who were supposed to uphold and stand by the truth in a dying educational system.
"Steve I know you attended lectures more than me, but you know the world is not fair and can never be fair" said Hillary, my coursemate, who was also part of my reading group.
"I know there's a reason for all this, especially someone like me who's interested in leadership. I know there's something life want's to teach me". I replied to him, accepting everything in good fate.
"Thank you for being there, and supporting all through." I said, wearing a smile on my face.
"Dreams don't fade" — these were Sochi's words. They kept me through that turbulent period of my academic journey.
I guess there's nothing like having the right friends around you, friends that can give you the strength to stand the storms of life.
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It's true that life is not fair, but it's especially difficult when something completely senseless and unexplained happens. If you attended all the classes, why did they punish you? At least you found a way to work past that hurdle. And thankfully you had the support of a good friend!
Some of the classes were online, I believe the class rep didn't keep accurate attendance, and she did agree and apologized for that.
I wasn't the only one affected. But I was expecting a proper investigation to be made at least.