By Frank Ijege
After completing my secondary school, I ‘hustled’ to gain admission into the university for about five or six years, before luck smiled on me. In fact during those trying days, I dared God and wondered why he would let luck shine on those with lower scores, while my higher scores are worth nothing! Alas, mother luck finally smiled on me and I found my self in a university!
One day, in my first year, I was sitting under the London bridge. Those who attended Benue State University will recall that we had a London bridge where admission list used to be pasted. So, I was sitting there this Saturday morning, still in reminiscence of the that fact that I was in school at last, and was going to have ‘juniors’, because the admission list for the set after mine had just been released.
Then a young man walked past me, straight to where the list was pasted. He checked, cross-checked and checked again. Sadly his name wasn’t there. Then he burst into tears. Ah, he didn’t do the manly cry. He cried it all out! I just sat there wondering; na so this thing dey be? Why people no dey get admission sef? Is it that difficult to get admission? I heard myself asking. I couldn’t believe that people were dyingly looking for admission. After crying it all, he got himself together and decided to leave. I just told him bros, sorry o.
It is the same I, that trekked from Barnawa to Jos Road in town (if you’re conversant with Kaduna) because ABU denied me admission. This same me that nearly went into depression. Yes, me that till date, I still recall the voice of that man that called me a nonentity; just because university admission kept eluding me. Me that after learning that my father had dropped some money at home that I should go and buy another JAMB form, in annoyance I called him on phone and told me not to bother; as I am no longer going to school. Maybe God wants me to do business (hehe).
Will you blame me? After I secured admission, my brain was formatted. Every stress, pain and tears was completely erased. When you are not suffering, you won’t know if other are suffering. That is the conclusion I draw whenever I recall that day.
And that is why I just laughed when I read Femi Adesina say ‘it is not true that Nigerians are suffering’. Like me, now that he is no longer in the crowd struggling to climb, he has forgotten what he used to be. He has forgotten what it was like squatting in that tiny room. He has forgotten the days he went without food. Those inglorious days when he trekked and prayed for the blessing of a rickety car. Those days he ranted about the suffering in the land in his column. All that have been formatted from his brain, simply because he is in a position of means today.
Like Femi, most of our political leaders suffer from this ‘conditioned forgetfulness’. That is why they act and behave they way they do. Once you’re initiated into luxury, you do everything you can, to throw your past into the dustbin of your past. Unfortunately while doing that, we throw our conscience too, and live in a world of lies and delusion.
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