As far as I’m concerned, mental health is more important than the physical kind. Why you may ask, it’s pretty obvious. If you’re not okay upstairs, every other thing becomes an issue.

So, where were we?

Finally, admission came after so many trials but it didn’t come just like that. On that fateful day, I was in my house with my mum, big sis and her fiancé. When the list came out, my name wasn’t on it. Suddenly a bat came into my room, hovering around. Fortunately for me, I was not in the room at the time, my sister’s fiancé was.

We were heartbroken at first but something prompted us to keep checking. We continued until something interesting happened.

The moment my sister’s fiancé hit that bat and it fell dead, my name showed on the list. Now you’re getting the gist right? You can now visualize where we’re headed.

You see 2Peter 1:3–4 says, His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.

Hold that scripture.

I finally got into the University. Before then, I had written the mandatory post-UTME twice with both of my cousins. Each of them gained admission the first and second time and then I came in the third time.

The first year was tough, I didn’t have a fantastic CGPA. The second year came; same old story. In the first semester of my third year, I recorded the same unpleasantness. The only time luck shone on me was during the second semester of my third year. That was the semester everybody was getting the ultimate 4.0 GPA for successfully completing their Industrial Training (IT). As you already guessed, my final year was terrible, plus I had an extra year.

Was it any fun? Nope. Did I flunk? I was barely above water and yes, I still had another year.

The good thing that happened was that I managed to get a job, or rather, God gave me a job amid all the “wahala”.

When I thought I had it all sorted out, the result was out and I still had one carryover.

Did my department offer to help? No, they were just difficult. To think that the course that came back was not even a departmental course was frustrating enough and they didn’t want to get to the bottom of it. What else did they want to remove from the little CGPA that was left?

I know what you’re going to say but in my country, things work differently in the educational system and trust me, you don’t want to know the story.

It took the intervention of two professors before they let me go.

My life was basically a struggle.

Nothing good came easy, heck, nothing good came to me but in all, I stayed dedicated to the things of God, just like every other person who indulges in other things but is a dedicated worker. Don’t get me wrong, I was always disciplined and principled so I still drew the line on so many things.

In church, I was shining bright but that was not the story in my academics. My spiritual life did not reflect in my academics but you know what they say, “not everyone who excels in school makes it in life.”

That shouldn’t be anything anybody should hold on to. You should try to make your first class, second class upper and maybe second class lower in peace. Third-class or pass shouldn’t be an option.

Anyway, God was with me. I got a job. It didn’t come with the best working condition but for someone who was waiting to serve their fatherland, my pay was good until it happened. For reasons I cannot disclose, I had to resign one year later. Months after that, I made the National Youth Service Corps(NYSC) list. It was an awesome experience, plus I only had to show up once a week to my place of primary attachment(PPA).

Before then, I had to get accommodation. I was asked to leave the house just like that. Oh, the pain I felt. Again, that’s a story for another day.

Halfway into my NYSC, I had to look for where to stay. My mum relocated to another part of the state and because of the distance to my PPA, I had to look for options.

It wasn’t easy but God came through.

My first boss while he was away with his wife, was kind enough to allow me to stay in his house. Oh, the trauma I went through. Living in a rich man’s house in a high-class environment meant I had to pay bills. Did I have the funds? No. I was struggling, living from hand to mouth, putting up appearances. What’s worse is that a lot was going on that I can’t even begin to mention.

I sunk into depression too. I was so worried I wouldn’t get a job when I finished my service year. It bothered me so much that I lost so much weight. Then the worst happened, one morning, I was asked to leave. Just like that another phase of my life began.

Please note that for time’s sake, I can’t narrate all the horrible experiences I went through at each time of my life. Not that it is insignificant but I’ve chosen not. Also, the reason why I’m writing this is not to tell you about my past but I have to mention it just so you can understand where I’m taking you to.

I moved to a friend’s “face me I slap you” apartment. It wasn’t a jolly good ride. Imagine waiting in line to shower or poo in a bathroom and toilet you’re sharing with maybe 50 people.

Everyone does what they can to survive but with me, I knew where to draw the line. So, in the company of like minds, I was the odd one. I just couldn’t compromise myself and my principles just because I needed to fit in and thrive.

I later reconnected with my family and moved in with them. I was working but the pay was small. I took it because I just needed to leave the house. I was offered training in IT but I couldn’t deal with the thought of failing again because the same person sponsored my university education. I already had a poor result that made it look like money went down the drain so all I wanted was to work, earn something and contribute my quota; you won’t blame me. I needed to prove I could be useful.

When it was time to be confirmed a full staff, my superior decided to play a fast one on me. I resigned. My family was furious and had every right to feel that way especially because my sibling had just resigned too and it didn’t make sense that we were both at home. Now imagine the frustration and tension.

That year I turned 30 and left.

Guess whose house I went to? that same friend who took me in after NYSC. It wasn’t a rosy experience. I had to tolerate a lot but life is a teacher. I learned, unlearned and understood a lot.

One day I visited a church and the pastor called me out. He said my friend was planning to kill me. Before then, one of the roomies said she had a dream where I was shot mistakenly in the house. Then the prophecy came. I RAN.

That same day I visited my cousin and I was so fortunate to discover that his fiancé’s apartment was vacant and I was willing to stay. She had just a few months left, enough time for me to move, get a job and renew the rent. It was a decent self-contain apartment but the environment was whack. I didn’t care because I was away from the many traps set automatically just because I was in the wrong environment.

Long story short, I moved again. I had nothing save the things I used while on campus back in my university days.

Later that year, I moved in and God was faithful enough to give me a nice contract with the company I resigned from. I was now earning three times my salary when I was with them. I managed to save and buy electronics and put some other things in place. I was happy in my small place. Family came around, all was well until…