THE PRICE OF SUCCESS - by Alabi Olalekan

People often say, "You're lucky. Everything worked out for you." Whenever I hear those words, I smile. Not because they're true, but because the people saying them only see the destination. They never saw the road that led me there. They never saw the nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if I had made the biggest mistake of my life. They never saw the days I pretended everything was fine while carrying burdens too heavy for anyone my age. They never saw the silent tears, the unanswered prayers, or the moments when giving up seemed easier than taking one more step. Success has a beautiful face, but it hides an ugly story. Mine began on the day I left home with a small travelling bag and dreams far bigger than my pocket. My mother hugged me tightly before I left. "Never forget why you're going," she whispered. My father didn't say much. He simply placed his hand on my shoulder and nodded. I understood that nod. It carried hope, sacrifice, and expectations that words could never express. As the bus pulled away, I looked through the window until my parents disappeared from sight. I had no idea that the journey ahead would test every part of me. The first few weeks were exciting. Everything felt new—the classrooms, the hostel, the unfamiliar faces, and the freedom of being on my own. I believed that hard work alone would be enough. I was wrong. Reality arrived faster than I expected. The money I brought from home disappeared within days. School expenses kept increasing, and every new week seemed to introduce another payment I hadn't planned for. I started skipping meals, telling myself I wasn't hungry. Sometimes I drank water just to silence the emptiness in my stomach. Whenever my parents called, I lied. "I'm fine," I would say. "The school is going well." "I have everything I need." The truth was the exact opposite. I knew they were already doing everything they could. Telling them how much I was struggling would only add to their worries. So I carried my battles alone. During the day, I attended lectures with a smile on my face. At night, I wondered how long I could continue living like this. One evening, after returning from class, I opened my wallet. Inside was a single worn-out note. I stared at it for a long time. That was all the money I had left. My next meal, my transport, my handouts, and even my survival depended on that one note. For the first time since I arrived at school, fear took the place of hope. I sat quietly on my bed and asked myself a question I had been avoiding for weeks. Was my dream really worth this much pain? Little did I know that this was only the beginning. The greatest challenge of my life was still waiting for me.

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