The most difficult part of life after writing an important exam is waiting for the results.

Now that I had checked my results and they were exceptionally good, I could take in a deep breath, smile and eavesdrop on conversations on other people’s performances.

Some students’ results were good, others were bad and a good number in-between.

Our year batch’s performance was generally good compared to previous years.

The next shocking news we sat tight awaiting was the placement in various senior high schools. Every student has six choices. Two from top schools. Another two from schools that where neither the best in the country nor the worst. And the last two were the schools that required minimal efforts in the final exams to gain admission to.

It was every student’s dream to get his or her first choice. It came with some sort of pride. And it also meant one did well in the final exams.

We waited and waited. And one day, I heard from a friend that the school placements were in.

Instead of trekking long distances to schools to check one’s admission status, there was a code across networks one used to check the details of the admission, including boarding or day student status.

The amount charged for the verification was quite huge for me at the time. I had to inform my parents who bought some airtime and gave me a phone to check.

My heart was beating as I checked. And it took a while for that phone to sneeze the details.

There it was, my first choice! I shouted the details of my admission with joy.

“Congrats!! “ My parents and some other people in our living room that day I couldn’t remember all congratulated.

But there was something that threatened to kill my joy. Some detail in the text message I had failed to mention and hoped it wasn’t true : Day.

That word “Day” was written at the top right corner. What could it mean? I guessed it meant I wasn’t offered boarding facility, and I hoped it wasn’t true.

The day I went to my new high school to get the prospectus and other requirements for newly admitted students, it was my prayer that I will be given a place in the dormitory.

Unfortunately, my fears were confirmed when I got there. I was going to be a day student. Meaning, no boarding facility for me.

I remembered a contact one of the teachers in my basic school gave me.

“He’s called Sergeant. It’s a Nicky. It’s what everyone calls him.” my science teacher told me as he handed me the card.

Now that I was badly looking for boarding facility because of the long distance from home to the school, I hoped this contact proved useful. It seemed this friend of my science teacher was an important person in the school.

I first called him to introduce myself. He sounded very nice and welcoming on the phone. After we spoke, my hopes were very high. He was so friendly and he was in charge of one of the boarding facilities on the school’s campus.

But the day I went to see him, I felt quite disappointed. He seemed very cold in person and did not indicate any willingness to be of help.

“Admission into the boarding houses were strictly in the hands of the school management.” he explained.

But I wasn’t a child. I knew the kind of explanations given to people one didn’t want to help, and the enthusiasm with which those who offered huge sums of money to these house masters were assisted.

All the same, I thanked him and left.

He was supposed to be a good friend of my science teacher. What had changed from the time we spoke over the phone and the time of my visit at his residence?

Perhaps he expected me to come with my parents. Since I came alone, it implied his help will probably go unrewarded.

My parents too could be negligent at times. An important matter such as this should not have been left to me alone.

At this point, it was too late and I had to brace myself for the difficulty of boarding a vehicle very early in the morning everyday to school. A minimum of one hour drive to school if there were no traffic and about three solid hours if there was heavy traffic.

I kept the date for the orientation in mind as my parents started buying the tall list of items requested by the high school from freshers.

By this time, I stopped being in regular contact with my former schoolmates. One very big miscalculation of mine. I was young and didn’t see the need to stay in touch with former teachers and old friends for support and guidenace in many invaluable ways in my new journey.