Tough times don’t last but tough people do. This is something we tell ourselves, but then, if one is not strong enough they’ll be swallowed up by the tough times and not be able to do anything at all. At one time or the other of our lives, we’ve found ourselves in difficult situations and the only way we can get out of it is to either give up or forge ahead.
But then, it’s in moments like these that we find out just how strong we are. Or how weak. Whether we choose to keep fighting or we choose to run, our decisions will be instrumental in shaping the rest of our lives because every other thing about us from then on will be built on that very decision. This was something I learned more than a decade ago.
You see, in December of 2012, I lost my eldest brother. This was a tough time for the family and coping with the death was not easy at all. But still, there were things that had to be done, like burials and whatnot. However, since this was in December and I was still in secondary school at the time, we were preparing for First term exams. I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me that I was going to miss it.
However, I feel that there was a way to circumvent this. I felt that if I informed the principal of my brother’s passing and my having to go to the burial, he could let me write the exams when I returned. That was my thought, but I was wrong. I first of all went to my class teacher and she shared the same opinion with me. I tried to make it as official as possible, even my mom was the one to write the letter. I simply needed permission to be allowed to travel for my brother’s burial, that’s all.
However, things didn’t go as planned. The principal refused to take the letter from me, even though I was there with my teacher. He asked what I was there for, and we told him. The teacher even spoke on my behalf, so the delivery was top-notch. However, this man wasn’t moved. To this day, I still remember what he said to me, “Well, you’re failing then.”
That discouraged me so bad, I didn’t even have the heart to beg. The moment he said that I simply turned and returned to my class. I already made up my mind that I was not writing the exam, and if I failed that term, then good and fine. So, my family and I traveled down to our hometown for the burial and when we returned in January, I resumed school in the second term.
When the results for the first term came out, I didn’t even bother going to pick it up because I knew it was all going to be red. But somehow, what happened in the first term affected my mentality for the rest of the session and I no longer cared. All through the rest of the session, I had already given up hope of passing. I knew that missing the first term exams was going to draw me back and thus prevent me from passing. So, I just stopped trying.
When second term exams rolled by, I did it halfheartedly as well and I also didn’t bother to collect the result. Back then, my class teacher would call for me, ordering me to come take it but I wasn’t interested. I just didn’t care anymore. The third term came and went in the same fashion. And when the new session started, I found out I had repeated the class.
I wasn’t shocked by this, due to how I had acted all through the session. However, I was shocked when I realized that I only failed the class because of maths. I was unable to get even the least credit. However, for all the other compulsory subjects, I had credits in them. That was when I realized that I could probably have passed if I had decided to be more serious and I didn’t allow what the principal did to me to put me down.
You see, I only missed the exams. But I still had test scores, I still had marks for assignments and for my notes. I still had at least 30 marks in all the subjects, so it was not as if I had nothing. So, if I had been more serious and gotten high marks in the second and third terms, everything would have been added together and divided by three and I would have made it through. I realized this too late, and it made everything worse.
I never told anyone this though, everyone assumed I repeated because I missed my exams for my brother’s funeral, and I never tried to correct them. I knew I could have made it work regardless, but I gave up simply because of what one man said to me. Anyway, I repeated the class, and it was quite the experience.
A lot of my friends who also repeated like me changed schools, but many others stayed on to fight like me as well. I was still friends with my former classmates that got promoted, I even used to go to their class from time to time. But I made new friends with my new classmates, and we made lasting memories. I thank God every day for them because I had a lot of fun. Many of the stories I’ve shared here from my school days happened after I repeated the class.
And did this teach me anything? Yeah, it taught me the smart way to do things. Prior to that, I used to believe that exams were the alpha and omega of school life, and failing at it meant total failure. But thanks to everything that happened to me, I realized that if I’m diligent enough through the term with my tests, notes, and projects, I won’t have to aim high during exams. A simple 20 marks out of the allotted 60 would suffice for me. And that was how I scaled through. And to date, I still use that tactic. And it’s working for me.
In higher institutions, it’s no different. Pay attention to your tests, assignments, practicals, and attendance and your exam will be a walk in the park. In things like this, the little details matter. The exams are seen as the big bad, but here the little details that you miss can end up being the very thing destroying you. This is why some people, even though they’re highly intelligent end up getting carry-overs. It’s because they believed the exams were the last bus stop.
Also, the experience taught me the value of not giving up. I saw first-hand what giving up cost me, an extra year in school. But then, it also turned me into a resilient fighter. And today, I’m happy that I repeated that class. I have no idea where I would be now if I hadn’t repeated that year. I have no idea the choices I would have made and the path life would have chosen for me. Hell, would I even be here making this post?
But thankfully, more than a decade later, I’m happy with the man I’ve become and I know for a fact that my repeating that year played a vital role in that.
And it was also good for me because it made remembering my late brother less painful for me. Everything that came after that fateful December has simply been things working out for my own good. And I will always be grateful for that.
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