MORE THAN MY MOMENT

<h3>EPISODE ONE: THE BOY WHO WASN'T SURE UNIVERSITY WAS POSSIBLE</h3>Some journeys begin with a dream. Mine began with a question I was too young to understand.There are parts of my life I do not usually talk about, not because I am ashamed of where I come from, and not because I believe my story is more important than anyone else's. I have always kept certain things to myself. Some experiences happen quietly; some things are hard to explain, and some moments stay with you for years without your ever telling anyone the whole story. But as my graduation from the University of Ilorin, Nigeria, approaches, I have found myself thinking about the person I was before this journey began. I have been thinking about the boy who did not know what life had in store for him. The boy who wanted to make something out of himself but did not have a clear picture of what that would look like. The boy who had dreams, even when he could not always see a realistic path to achieving them. I am writing this with tears in my eyes. Even as I put these words together, I am emotional. It is a strange feeling to look back at something you once struggled to survive and realise that you are now standing at the end of that chapter. This is more than a graduation story to me. It is a record of where I started, what happened along the way, and the person I am still trying to become. <h2>WHERE I COME FROM</h2>My family is not the kind of family where, whenever something goes wrong, you can easily call an uncle, an aunt or another relative to come to your rescue. It was basically my father, my mother, me, my siblings, and perhaps one or two other people. We did not have an extended family network we could readily depend on for emergency financial support. I grew up understanding, in my own way, that some things would have to be figured out with the little we had. When you come from a background like that, you learn that wanting something and being able to afford it are two different things. You can have an ambition, but the money to pursue it may not be there. You can see an opportunity, but you may not know how you are going to get through the door. During my primary and secondary school years, I was often sent out of school when the fees had not been paid. That was part of my reality. Still, I tried to do well academically. At that age, I did not have a grand plan for my future. I was young, and I did not understand life as I understand some parts of it now. I just wanted to be myself, do what I could, and keep moving. University was not something I had confidently pictured for myself. In fact, after secondary school, my father said something to me that I have never forgotten. He said, "My son, I don't think you'll be able to go to university."I did not argue with him, because I understood the circumstances we were facing. I knew what things looked like, and I could see why he felt that way. There is an expression I remember: the way a bird flies is the way you throw the stone at it. Sometimes, what people believe is possible for you is shaped by what they can see around you. My father was looking at our circumstances. And, at that time, I could not blame him for seeing things the way he did. But my mother insisted that I had to go to university. In her words, no, her boy must go to university. That decision meant something because university was not going to happen just because she wished for it. There were examinations to pay for, forms to process, and admission expenses to cover. Money had to come from somewhere. My mother raised money for my JAMB examination, NECO, and the expenses associated with seeking admission. She did what she could to give me the opportunity to earn a degree. When I look back now, I understand that I was not the only person making a sacrifice. My mother was making one too. Before I ever stepped into a university classroom, somebody had already invested in the possibility of me getting there. I cannot tell my story honestly without acknowledging that. <h3>THE COURSE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO STUDY</h3>When it was time to apply for university, I chose Linguistics. I had an Arts background, and I was interested in language. I wanted to understand languages, how they relate to one another, and how they shape the way people communicate and understand the world. I was particularly interested in exploring African and European languages, including Arabic, Spanish, and French, and the role language could play in community development. For me, Linguistics was not just a course to study. It was something I had begun to imagine myself doing. I sat for JAMB and scored around 205. Eventually, I received admission letter to study Linguistics at the University of Ilorin, Nigeria. I was happy. I called my parents and shared the news with them. I appreciated them for what they had done to make that opportunity possible. For a family that had struggled to make education happen, getting admission was a significant moment. I thought I knew what the next chapter of my life would look like. I started preparing. There was an ASUU strike that affected university activities in 2021, and the delay meant I had time before resumption. Instead of waiting, I began researching Linguistics. I gathered textbooks and learning materials, explored online resources and looked at the kind of courses students studied in Linguistics, including materials connected to the University of Ilorin's curriculum. I wanted to be ready before the semester began. I was already preparing myself for a course I believed I was going to study. Then something happened. When I was printing information relating to my admission from the university portal, I saw a message indicating that I had been moved from Linguistics to History and International Studies. I had never imagined that course for myself. I had not applied to study it as my first choice, and I had never studied History as a subject in the way that would have helped me understand what a university History degree involved. JAMB had given me admission to study Linguistics. Now, the university was telling me something different. I thought there had been a mistake. I contacted support desks. I sent messages and emails. I tried to reach people who might explain what had happened. I wanted to know why my course had changed and whether there was a way to correct it. I kept explaining that Linguistics was what I wanted to study. I did not receive the clarity I was looking for. At that point, I was not thinking about becoming a historian. I was trying to understand why the future I had prepared for suddenly looked different. I had spent time gathering materials and imagining myself in one department. Now, I was expected to begin another journey without really understanding why. The university eventually resumed after the strike, around the end of 2021. I was going to campus with questions I had not been able to resolve. I did not know it then, but this was the first major disappointment of my university experience. I had gained admission, but the course I had been admitted to study was no longer the course I was expected to pursue. And I had to decide what to do with that reality. A word about the people who make the journey possible: I think about my mother a lot when I tell this part of the story. She did not have the luxury of guaranteeing me a perfect university experience. She could not remove every obstacle or make every bill disappear. But she pushed for an opportunity that we had once thought might be out of reach. I would later go through experiences that made me question whether I should continue. There would be times when I was disappointed, times when I struggled financially, and times when I was not sure I could finish. But before all those experiences, there was a mother who insisted that her son should have the opportunity to go to university. That matters to me. I am not telling this story to portray my family as helpless or to make my background an excuse for everything that happened afterwards. I am telling it because the beginning of a person's story often explains why certain things matter so much to them. For me, getting into university was about a possibility my family had worked to create. And once I arrived at the University of Ilorin, I was going to find out that getting through the door was only the beginning. <h4>To be continued in Episode Two: The Course I Never Chose.</h4>This is where my university journey truly began, not with certainty, but with a change I did not understand and a future I had not planned for.

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