The Dream They Paid For

EP(3)::200

Episode Three : 200

I had always believed that hard work had a reward.

If I studied hard enough, prayed hard enough, and stayed focused long enough, something good would eventually happen.

That was what I told myself when I registered for JAMB.

It was my first real step toward becoming a Doctor of Pharmacy.

And for the first time in my life, I felt like my future was sitting in my own hands.

I couldn’t afford to drop it.

Every morning, I woke up early to study.

Mathematics.

Chemistry.

Biology.

Physics.

I filled notebooks with questions and answers until my fingers hurt.

Sometimes, Deborah studied with me.

Sometimes, she would look at my notes and laugh.

“You’ve written the same thing three times.”

“Because I want to remember it.”

“You already know it.”

“I don’t want to take chances.”

She smiled.

“You’ll be fine.”

I wanted to believe her.

I really did.

But there was something different about this examination.

It wasn’t just an examination to me.

It was a door.

And I desperately needed that door to open.

The morning of the examination came faster than I expected.

I woke up before my alarm.

For several minutes, I stared at the ceiling.

My heart was beating faster than usual.

I got out of bed and knelt beside it.

“God, please.”

That was all I could say.

Daddy was already awake.

He sat outside, drinking a cup of tea.

When he saw me, he smiled.

“Today is the day.”

I nodded.

He stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.”

He smiled.

“You’re lying.”

I laughed.

Maybe he was right.

I was afraid.

Not because I hadn’t prepared.

I was afraid because I knew what this meant.

If I failed, I would have to start again.

And I didn’t know if my family could afford another attempt.

Daddy seemed to read my mind.

“Daniel.”

I looked at him.

“Whatever happens today, you have already made me proud.”

I nodded.

“Thank you.”

He pulled me into a hug.

“Go and do your best.”

I left home carrying my examination slip and a heart full of hope.

The examination hall was crowded.

Students stood outside, talking nervously.

Some were reading their notes one last time.

Others were praying.

Some were already discussing questions from previous years.

I stood quietly.

I didn’t want to hear anything.

I had prepared.

I wanted to trust my preparation.

When they finally allowed us inside, I found my computer and sat down.

My hands were cold.

The instructions appeared on the screen.

I read them twice.

Then the examination began.

The first few questions were manageable.

I relaxed.

Then I reached the harder ones.

My confidence began disappearing.

I stared at one question for what felt like forever.

I calculated.

Recalculated.

Still nothing.

I moved on.

Another difficult question.

Then another.

My heart started racing.

“Calm down,” I whispered to myself.

I kept going.

I answered everything I could.

When the timer finally reached the end, I submitted.

For a moment, I simply stared at the screen.

It was over.

I walked outside.

The sunlight felt strangely bright.

Tunde was waiting near the gate.

“How was it?”

I forced a smile.

“Fine.”

He looked at me.

“Just fine?”

“I did what I could.”

He nodded.

“That’s what matters.”

I smiled.

But deep inside, I wasn’t convinced.

The days after the examination were harder than the examination itself.

Waiting was t*****e.

Every time my phone rang, my heart jumped.

Every time someone mentioned JAMB, I became nervous.

At home, Daddy tried not to pressure me.

He didn’t ask about the result.

Neither did Ada.

But I knew they were waiting too.

One afternoon, I found Daddy sitting outside.

He was repairing his bicycle.

I sat beside him.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I don’t get the score?”

He stopped what he was doing.

“Then you try again.”

I looked at him.

“What if we don’t have the money?”

He looked at me.

“Leave tomorrow to tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Daniel.”

He smiled.

“We will find a way.”

I nodded.

I wanted to believe him.

A few days later, I went to a cyber café with Deborah.

The place was small and crowded.

Computers filled almost every table.

People were checking results, printing documents, filling forms.

My palms were sweating.

The attendant looked at me.

“Result?”

I nodded.

He entered my details.

Then he turned the monitor slightly toward me.

“Wait for it.”

The page loaded.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

I held my breath.

Then the result appeared.

200.

I stared at the screen.

I couldn’t move.

200.

That was it.

Two hundred.

I blinked several times.

Maybe I had read it wrongly.

I looked again.

Still 200.

Deborah placed her hand on my shoulder.

“Daniel…”

I didn’t answer.

The attendant looked at me.

“Is everything okay?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

But I wasn’t.

Not even close.

I stood up and walked outside.

I needed air.

The street was busy.

Cars passed.

People shouted.

Motorcycles moved through traffic.

Life continued as if nothing had happened.

But my world had stopped.

I sat on a concrete pavement and stared at the result on my phone.

Two hundred.

I had imagined something higher.

I had imagined myself celebrating.

I had imagined Daddy thanking God.

I had imagined Ada crying.

Instead, I was sitting alone, wondering how I was going to tell them.

Then I heard footsteps.

Daddy.

I looked up.

He had come with Ada.

Neither of them spoke immediately.

Daddy sat beside me.

“What did you get?”

I lowered my eyes.

“200.”

Silence.

I waited for disappointment.

I waited for anger.

I waited for someone to say I had wasted their money.

Instead, Daddy sighed.

Then he placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

I looked at him.

“Are you not angry?”

“Why would I be angry?”

“I failed.”

“You didn’t fail.”

“I got 200.”

“That’s a score.”

I looked away.

“But it isn’t enough for Pharmacy.”

Daddy nodded.

“Then we find another way.”

I swallowed.

“I don’t think I can do this again.”

Ada sat beside me.

“You can.”

I looked at her.

“How?”

She smiled.

“Because you’ve already survived worse things.”

I knew what she meant.

Mama.

Poverty.

Her sacrifice.

Daddy’s struggle.

I wiped my eyes.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Ada took my hand.

“Daniel, listen to me.”

I looked at her.

“Your result cannot erase everything you’ve done.”

“But—”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“You are allowed to be disappointed.”

Her voice softened.

“But don’t turn disappointment into a decision to give up.”

I didn’t answer.

For the first time, I understood that sometimes the people who love you don’t remove your pain.

They simply refuse to let you face it alone.

That night, I barely ate.

I went to my room and placed the result on my table.

200.

I kept staring at it.

I thought about the necklace Ada sold.

I thought about Daddy’s savings.

I thought about the countless nights I had studied.

Was all of it for nothing?

I lay on my bed.

Then I heard a knock.

“Come in.”

Daddy entered.

He sat beside me.

For a while, he said nothing.

Then he picked up the result.

“One examination cannot measure your future.”

I stared at the floor.

“But it can delay it.”

Daddy smiled.

“Yes.”

I looked at him.

“But delay is not denial.”

I swallowed.

“What if I try again and fail?”

“Then you try again.”

“And if I fail again?”

“Then you try again.”

I laughed weakly.

“You make it sound easy.”

“It isn’t easy.”

He looked at me.

“But your dream is worth fighting for.”

I looked down.

Then he said something I would remember for the rest of my life.

“Never say you are a burden.”

I looked up.

“You are my son.”

His voice became firm.

“You are not a burden.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.”

My eyes filled with tears.

I hugged him.

And for the first time since seeing that result, I allowed myself to cry.

Not because I had failed.

But because I was tired.

Tired of watching my family sacrifice.

Tired of feeling like I was running but not moving.

Tired of wondering whether my dream was too big for someone like me.

Daddy held me until I stopped crying.

Then he stood up.

“Get some sleep.”

I nodded.

He reached the door.

“Daddy?”

He turned.

“What?”

“I’m going to try again.”

He smiled.

“I know.”

The next morning, I woke up with a different kind of determination.

I took the piece of paper with my score.

I folded it.

Then I placed it inside the back of my notebook.

Not to remind myself that I had failed.

But to remind myself that I had started.

I opened a fresh page.

At the top, I wrote:

JAMB — ATTEMPT TWO.

Then I stared at those words.

I knew the road ahead would not be easy.

I knew people would tell me to choose another course.

I knew some would laugh.

Some would say I was wasting my time.

Maybe they were right.

Maybe they weren’t.

But one thing was certain.

I wasn’t ready to stop.

I had watched my sister give up her education.

I had watched my father work until his body hurt.

I had watched my mother walk away.

I couldn’t walk away from my dream too.

So I picked up my pen.

And I started studying again.

This time, I wasn’t studying because I believed success was guaranteed.

I was studying because I had decided that failure would not have the final word.

I didn’t know that my next score would be higher.

I didn’t know how many more times I would have to sit for that examination.

I didn’t know how much my dream would cost.

But I knew one thing.

200 was not the end of my story.

It was only the first battle.

TO BE CONTINUED…