@HappyBoy 13 January 2025 more from that month

13th of January 2015 13th of January 2015 I was a young, hopeful boy, ready to take on the world. I remember telling myself, “The first step begins today.” Last year, I made several attempts to register at CITM, but they didn’t pan out. Determined to make it happen this time, January 13, 2015, felt like the right day. I woke up early, took a refreshing bath, and popped a delicious hot puff puff into my mouth as I dashed out. My mum’s voice echoed in my ears as I reached the bus stop: “Damola o tun ni jeun lo school leni!” I couldn't help but smile as I chewed, then hopped on a bike to the train station. Once I arrived, I found the ticket booth, purchased my ticket, and hopped onto the train. I found a seat near the window, eager to enjoy the view—even if it was still dark outside. Around 7:45-8:00, we rolled into Yaba station. As I approached the doorway with my file in hand, I noticed a few women struggling to get off. I sympathized with them since our coach had a broken step and the exit was crowded. I decided to wait for them despite it taking longer than I expected. Once they finally alighted, I thought it was my turn to get off. Suddenly, the train jolted back into motion while I was still holding onto the rail, trying to step down. Panic surged through me as several thoughts raced through my mind: - “Should I hold on until the next station?” That definitely didn’t seem like a good idea. I was small and skinny; the wind could easily sweep me away. Plus, with a folder in one hand, hanging onto a moving train just wasn’t practical—especially since I was just a young guy, still hopeful about college. - “Should I jump down now, before it speeds up?” This option felt risky, but it seemed better than the first one. So, I took a leap of faith and jumped. In a flash, I found myself on the ground with my legs on the train track, and I can hardly remember how it all happened. The train was moving slowly, but one of its wheels was alarmingly close to my leg. Fear gripped me, and I quickly pulled my legs away. The market around me went silent, and I could hear some women saying my parents must be prayerful while others hissed and muttered unkind things. I couldn’t blame them; they probably thought I was one of those daredevil kids who hung onto trains. If something happened to me, they might not have cared. I was shaken to the core and walked to school like a ghost. While other students rushed to register, I stood frozen, still reeling from the horror of almost losing my life. For over a year, I dealt with PTSD. Just the sound of a train made me shiver, and I avoided the train station until I decided it was time to confront my fear. **13th of January 2025** Fast forward ten years to January 13, 2025. I am alive and grateful—whole in spirit and body. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I truly appreciate every experience along the way. I completed my ND program, faced some hiccups with my Siwes, and had to make a tough choice: wait a year for direct entry or try my luck with JAMB again. I chose the latter, which certainly came with its own set of challenges: a five-year course stretched to seven due to staff strikes, COVID-19, and long breaks in the school calendar. Sometimes, I forget how fortunate I am. I focus too much on what I lack rather than celebrating the blessings I have and trusting in God. Despite my complaints and shortcomings, His grace has been ever-present. Today, I rode the train to school for our Hooding ceremony and convocation (Tomorrow). I can't help but feel thankful for the gift of life. Thanks for reading!