My journey

The Email that changed Everything ,my Admission to NUL

It was an ordinary cold day in July, and I was just going about my usual routine. I had woken up, made my bed, and helped with chores at home. I hadn’t checked my emails in a while because, honestly, a part of me was scared of being disappointed. I had applied to the National University of Lesotho (NUL) with so much hope, but I knew there were many others applying too, and the waiting game had started to mess with my thoughts.

That morning, something nudged me ,maybe it was a whisper from God or just a random urge but I decided to check my emails.

There it was.

The subject line that made my heart race and my hands tremble.

“Congratulations! You have been admitted for Diploma in Adult Education at the National University of Lesotho.”

I blinked. Read it again. And again.

My heart jumped , not in small beats, but in fireworks. I screamed before I even read the full message. My mom came rushing in, asking what had happened. I couldn’t even speak properly. I handed her the phone with shaky hands and said, “Look, Mama!”I kept reading the email over and over, afraid it would disappear. I started imagining myself walking around the NUL campus in Roma ,wearing my backpack, holding books, attending lectures, and meeting people with the same dreams.

I began to think deeply about what Adult Education really means. I realized I wasn’t just going to school for myself. I would soon be equipped to help adults who never had the chance to complete their schooling to change lives, uplift communities, and offer second chances.

That thought filled me with pride.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was already on campus, wondering what I’d wear on my first day, who I would meet, where I’d stay, what my lecturers would be like. But most of all, I was planning how I would walk into that university, head held high , not as someone who had it easy, but as someone who had fought through storms to arrive there.

The next day, I told my dad I had to go collect my admission letter. He was so proud, and promised to take me there. He kept saying, “Now you’re going to be a big girl. A university girl.” I laughed, but deep inside, I was truly proud of myself.She read it slowly, then looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “God is faithful.” That’s when I knew it was real. I wasn’t dreaming. I had been accepted. I was going to university. Not just any university, but the National University of Lesotho, the most respected university in the country.

A few minutes later, another message followed.

“Kindly visit the campus to collect your official admission letter.”

That made it even more real. I had a place. A space waiting for me. A future unfolding.

I sat down and cried not because I was sad, but because I had fought so many silent battles to reach this moment. I remembered how I had once used a wheelchair, and how I slowly learned to walk again. I thought about how I rewrote my matric, filled with anxiety and fear, wondering if I would ever pass.

And here I was… officially admitted.

My phone didn’t stop buzzing that day. I sent screenshots to my siblings and closest friends. “I made it!” I texted them, followed by crying emojis, hearts, and firecrackers. Everyone was happy for me. People started posting me on their w******p statuses saying, “NUL girl,” “Our very own future teacher,” “Proud moment.”Getting admitted wasn’t just about academics for me. It was about winning over doubt. It was about seeing how far I’d come from hospitals, tears, and fear to healing, confidence, and purpose.

I kept that admission email safe. I printed it. I read it like it was a poem written just for me. Because it was. It was a letter saying: “Welcome to your future, Ithabeleng.”

And I was ready.