Source;Pixabay
The holiday’s feasts, joy and bonds shared among families and the vacations we set out for rolled out quickly. It was quite astonishing, but indeed, there is definitely time for everything.
The semester began with me counting my regrets from the previous semester, and writing my resolutions for the new one, fighting hard to forgive myself owing to the bad results I produced from the previous one.
My dad’s voice, scolding me night after night, still echoed in my ears. I think my brain made it a core memory.
I resolved to go to class more often, listen to my lecturers and take down points which seemed overemphasized and may likely appear during a test or an examination. Reading at night for at least a duration of 6 hours or till I achieve what I wanted.
As the semester progressed, there was more stress than I had envisioned. My roommate, who dragged me through the previous semester, died without any warning to the world, leaving me completely shattered in this world.
I was not really close to the rest, but things had to take a different turn. I needed them to get through the remaining session in the sense that they had to wake me up at night, especially when my alarm fails to do so. Going for night classes at the beginning of the semester was something I definitely don’t settle for I would rather read in the hostel till towards exam period.
Getting close to them was somewhat difficult. We started by sharing our feelings based on the incident of our deceased roommate, though the closest to her never really expressed how she felt.
Her name was Ezinne, she was Igbo and never really saw the need to despite other tribes, she was a better Christian than I am and always scolded me to do better with my religious life, I promised her to, but never really kept to my promises. She was very intelligent and read so often that part of her I wanted to instill in myself. She was jovial, kind and almost perfect.
The sudden news of her demise came from my closest friend, the one who holds my hands through every session, right from my 200 level till present. She returned earlier to the hostel than I did.
‘Ezinne is dead,’ the news popped up on my screen; the sentence had just three words, but those words tore me into a thousand pieces. I read it over and over again, making sure my eyes got the right signals from my brain; it meant the same thing; the words did not change.
She had travelled and was buried immediately after her death, with none of her friends able to pay her the last respect she deserved.
My heart was heavy with different thoughts echoing through my mind. At some point, I blamed myself for her death, as she had complained to me about her symptoms. I was worried initially, but her closest friend and she shrugged it off, saying it was not the first time it had occurred. This subsided my worries, but unfortunately, it ended in her demise.
Other disturbing reasons kept tearing me over and over again.
It took me days to return to school as my anxiety of not knowing what the room would bring this time got hold of me. Nobody says it often, but our roommates play a contributing factor in our daily life; they can make us feel less burdened or more at crises, and Ezinne made life easier.
We shared our feelings as we sat in a circle, cried our lungs and promised to be there for one another. The only way we got to honor her last moment was the procession done by her department, another day we were soaked in tears with the only comforting words ‘God knows best’.
Source;Pixabay
For the rest of the semester, we tried to show up for each other academically, emotionally, financially, and what have you.
We went on different date nights, playing games together on other ends, or just anything to lift our spirits when we are not busy academically.
Academically, I tried to show up for myself as much as my friends and roommates tried. At the early stage, I kept to my resolutions, especially the one that involved me going to class often and submitting my assignments regularly, as well as preparing properly for a test, not going with the intention that it would take care of itself, as I did in the previous semester.
Moving towards my exam period, I burned the candle and calories reading aggressively, with my friend’s favorite quote ringing in my ears, ‘reading hasn’t made anyone mad before’.
I read to impress my dad, myself and my deceased friend. We were frequent at night classes as the uncomfortable bench keeps you awake, and the sight of others reading will give you a rethink of your life when you want to sleep.
This went on for the three weeks I had my exams, not until my last two papers, which were in the fourth week, I struggled to read for the paper I had on Monday, but the final paper felt more like an onus compared to the weeks I spent writing the exams.
I fought with sleep on several occasions, but it kept winning every round. My closest friend made matters worse as she claimed she could not read for her last paper and slept without regret.
My alarms kept crying in my ears, and I kept turning them off I nearly smashed my phone at some point; the rest I did not hear them ring.
The time for the exams approached faster than scheduled, and I had literally nothing to write. We did flip through the pages of our materials, trying to read, but we barely got much.
Going in for the exams, my friend and I were blank, with no one to turn to for help, and the music played louder than we expected.
I sat there remembering all the reasons I wrote my resolution and how I have failed myself in so many ways. But had I known, is the last comment of regret
I did not know how to forgive myself after my exams, but I had to at some point. I hope my results will bring me more comfort than regrets.
I am dedicating this post to Ezinne. You were loved on earth regardless of the little time you spent. Keep resting dear one 🤍
