Woke up by 7:45am, my heart in my mouth as I jumped out of a sweat drenched bed like a hare being smoked out of its bosom by hungry hunters, ignoring the battle scars from bedbugs below and aerial attacks of the infamous mosquitoes.
“You can’t be late for your first class in final year. You have to do better Ema”, I told myself as I groped for my towel and hastily made my way to the hallway.
I have been told by my senior colleagues that this year would be a different ball game, it would be like no other, and cumulatively, it would either make or break me. Well, to be honest, I didn’t doubt the words for a second. I had witnessed a lot of friends and not-so-serious-friends and foes alike lose their sanity in this unfulfilling rat race to clinch the “MBBS” as we all put it.
Darting into the bathroom, I started my facial and pubic cleansing ritual allowing the shower wash away my anxiety as I felt a trickle of nostalgia. Remembering my SS3 days, the growing impatience of the same routine for 6 years, the incessant spectrum of waking up, going to school, eating, reading and sleeping
It was all the sad life that is existing at the edge of tomorrow. I remembered the fateful morning of my rude awakening, when my Jamb form was dropped on my lap. I had to make a decision, one I would be bound to for the rest of my life. There was no turning back now and I knew I wasn’t prepared for this kind of responsibility but it is said that the birds fly when pushed out of their nest. My friends told their stories about how some of us reclined to the wisdom of our parents to make this life long decision for us while others like me feeling wise in our own eyes believed we were up to the task. I keep wondering what in the world I was thinking.
I remember saying to myself back then,
Ques: What do you want in this life?
Ans: To be wealthy and have a wide circle of influence.
Ques: Can you do engineering?
Ans: No, to be great in that field I have to know how to invent and tweak wires plus I don’t like math.
Ques: How about medicine?
Ans: If I study medicine there would be less competition and I wouldn’t have to solve math. Win-win!
And this was how I used my right hand to sell my soul to the fiend called Medicine and Surgery at a subsidized rate.
The horrendous smell of the hostel toilet brought me back to reality. I felt the coolness of the water on my body and realized how beautiful life could have been without the smell. I jumped out of the showers and into my clinical coat. Hastily, I headed down the road “frequently” traveled by 7:58am. I know Doctor Kehlani locks her door by 8:01am, Maleek at the door when I came out. His straight dark passive face exposed his dread of the coming day. We made our way to the slaughterhouse and my only solace was that I was not alone in this ordeal.