Do you remember the EndSARS protest in Lagos, Nigeria? Well planned and well created — but I don't know, the government really tried. Many youths died, while many got injured. I call it a **debilitating catastrophe** that changed nothing within our system.

**Fast forward to my academic journey from 100 level to 400 level… I laughed at last.**

**Ha!!**
Let me begin with the *silent cry*.


I had **314 in JAMB UTME** and applied for **Medicine and Surgery** at **Olabisi Onabanjo University**. But during that period of COVID-19 pandemic, there were restrictions to movement. We were told to take an online Post-UTME exam through an app called **SABOSI**. That app used a camera and detection system but, everything was fucked up. 

![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmf2MyfadofULsGWWMzrBd4YLuWkMqT6dpcp5nGe9ULyNc/1754338231318.png)
From day 1... 
We all knew that exam was a setup. 😂😂😂🤌🤌🤌

The school mandated that we must have a strong internet connection, despite knowing how unreliable Nigerian networks are. During the exam, everything was messed up. Clicking “Next” would load endlessly. I couldn’t even finish.😂

Several people complained, but the school still used those results. 

When we met the admission officer, he told us bluntly:

> *“We can’t use our state money to sponsor non-indigenes for free.”*

My **314** was a waste. Such a high score… gone.

I complained — no response. My once-guarded joy became a **sad burden**.

Admission list was broadcasted  and I wasn’t on the list.

By week four of oou academic calendar, my principal, **Mrs. Itiolu**, asked,

> “Haven’t you gotten admission yet?”

I said, “No.”

Everyone believed I would be admitted — after all, it takes a scholar to score that high. She called someone at the admission office, and finally, I was placed among the **Anatomy** students — by **week 5**!

>In Nigeria, it is who knows who.  😞😔

Week 5 of the academic calendar, guys! I was still parabulating — torn between choosing **Medicine or nothing else**. But eventually, I chose **Anatomy**.

Despite the late admission, I didn’t give up. I missed many tests, but I pulled myself up.

**OOU sun!!**
Guys, the stress — **trekking**, it’s so tiring. Taking a bus? That was a tug of war. Exam time? Even worse.

Still, I finished 100 level with an **Upper Credit**.

Determined, I focused on a **First Class** — aiming for a **Direct Entry** into another university while still taking new JAMB exams.

Next JAMB: I scored **280**, and had **80** in Post-UTME. Still, I wasn’t given admission — because I was a **non-indigene**.

So now I was chasing two things: **school** and **JAMB**.

During the strike period, I worked to make money. But then came a devastating accident in my second semester, leading to a **fracture** that nearly cost me my leg.


![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmQPb4Y1o2TziNAZhB78PHgzFSodjHwpFS7uXVsD5JTyjk/1754338334765.gif)



But that didn't steal my joy.

While on the hospital bed, I was reading about the **lower limb anatomy**. At the end of that semester, I finished with a **First Class**.


![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmSHwUSGZCR4UxVZr4fuhTAdaAdDPLWjaJajZMCfgPcMZ8/1754338923586.png)


My senior told me, “Joseph, keep it up.”

He even taught me about the arteries and veins of the upper and lower limbs.

Then, I was someone with a focus and ambition. 
I don't quit... I had faith  in my heart. 

![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmTKZTiXwUJTvzu9jHYEkCSVoVszCG8erjam7wB7J99LGT/1754338334838.png)

Moving on to **300 level** — second semester, we were barely lectured. We had to look for materials ourselves. A mandatory **IT program** was introduced, but it didn’t align with the academic calendar. This affected my GPA. Thankfully, the department later extended **Anatomy to 5 years** to properly include IT for the Jambites at that time. 



**400 level came** — the dreaded **project year**.

I fed **rats** like I was feeding a human infant. 😩
I was made **project group leader**, and I worked so hard that I could barely do anything else. Life became hard. I spent unnecessary amounts of money. It drained me,  physically, emotionally, and financially.


My colleagues made things worse. The project was overwhelming — it nearly broke me. At one point, I even **trended on TikTok** for calling them out on their wrongdoing. That moment damaged my reputation. It was **brutal**.
I was unhappy. I felt sad, dejected and tired. I knew what hunger was. There was a day that I was to present, can you believe that I was vibrating. Every time I move, I was also vibrating. Initially, I thought that it was normal stage fright; but it was due hunger strike. 

Hunger became real, and I knew how to package it. 😂
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![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmRk9uNdrXbWqkuPFeDyMXeABdSCVSBBPwiNdzK7V3e9rX/1754338820520.png)

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![](https://images.ecency.com/DQmbMcNy6KLBhBPJwi4WkJ57RcUdyfQVvhv7HgG8hEtgfV3/1754340087738.jpg)



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But at the **end**, my **lecturers**, **family**, and **friends** all celebrated with me — because **I graduated with a First Class**.

I also got a special recognition award. Though, the university promised to give us a certain amount of money which we didn't receive.😂




That joy erased the sadness, the pain, the tears.





**Hallelujah. Glory.** 🎉

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