Lantern in the Dark

Being born in Ondo State was nothing but a daily hustle for my family and me. Wealth was very far from us, and we all had to navigate the chaos of life in our tattered one-room apartment with four siblings. The compound was a big one, with every neighbor striving nonstop for a better tomorrow, but that better tomorrow was one I never believed would ever come because of the abject poverty we found ourselves in.

We lived hand to mouth. Sometimes, we had to rely on neighbors in order to feed. Life was just too hard on us, no matter how much my dad tried. My grandmother always told me one thing: "Just believe something can turn around in just seconds." It was advice I never believed for once. A little about my grandma: she's the definition of “it will happen even when there is no sign."

One of the worst moments in my life was in JSS3. It was my final year before moving to senior secondary school. It was my dad’s utmost dream for me to pass that exam after sponsoring me with the last of his money.

I knew how hard it was for my parents to fend for us. They woke up daily, striving for survival just to support us and make sure we were okay. I was never the serious type because I believed I lacked what the brilliant kids had.

With my dad's last card invested on me, I was ready to invest my energy, even though our old lantern swore it was never in support of my striving; the dim light could barely brighten my book. Despite this, I often sought solace in the school library as a better place to study.

Source

One day in my school's old library, I was with my book, my head resting on the wooden table, when my schoolmate tapped me and smiled, "Why this stress when you know finishing this school is not even sure for you? Even if you manage and pass this junior WAEC, who will sponsor your senior secondary?” Those words were like bee stings, but I chose to cling to faith.

The faith that moved the mountain was when Mr. Olu, our neighbor, returned from work. He teaches in one of the schools in our community, and he's known for his zeal and eagerness to teach, not minding whether people are interested or not. He saw me studying outside in front of our veranda. He asked me why I wasn't playing with the kids, and I told him how I wanted to have a good result.

At first, he smiled, then became serious again. He took a seat and helped me out with my learning that day. Afterward, he gave me some textbooks to aid my studying and assisted me during some of his free time. His assistance was another motivation for me. His zeal in teaching made me realize that I can become anything if I'm with the right people.

I started mingling with people who took education seriously and valued their studies. When the result was finally out, my overall grade was distinction. I was very happy, but my happiness was cut short when I realized the money for senior secondary was another headache.

My dad refused to give up after seeing my zeal and results. He tried all he could to raise the money, but to no avail. This was the time I remembered my grandma's words. I keyed into her words and refused to relent; I had faith. School resumed, and I was on two weeks' grace with the hope that my dad could raise the money before the two weeks elapsed.

The term continued with sending me home daily to barring me from even entering the gate. It was one afternoon at home when I heard a knock at the door, and opening the door, I saw Amina, my neighbor and schoolmate. "The principal asked me to tell you to come to school tomorrow with your dad or mom." I didn't know why, and my curiosity led me to ask her why, but she had no clue either.

When we got to school the next day, I was overwhelmed when the principal informed me that the proprietor had decided to offer scholarships to any student with the best results, and I was the only one who merited it. I was short of words and happy; I was able to finish my secondary school. Though I started my life with doubt, I realized that faith without works cannot move mountains.

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