Flashback 😂—my friends saw it; I didn’t give a damn. I just wanted to read my ass off 😂. Like, just imagine this video was taken in the middle of the night. I was reading like it was more than just a common exam. I can’t forget Olamide. He was always like, “Guy, try dey rest.” Many people thought I was no longer normal. I read for three days straight with little to no sleep.
I remember those days when I didn’t even take a good night wrapper or cloth. Everything was like a disaster. Every single mosquito bite meant a lot. I read myself almost to death.
Now here comes the hardest part—I was an exco in church and a project leader, and I needed to read for exams. Additionally, I ran tutorials to survive. Every tutorial missed meant no food that day. It was the hardest life. I couldn’t survive—I could only watch as I became uneasy. I started to lose myself.
400L was the worst. I smelt death. My legs hurt, but I took upon myself the duty of a leader—choosing not to eat rather than fail God or fail academically. You know how church excos are... Some will even say you read more than you take God seriously.
Soon, I left my tutorial job. I knew that teaching meant food, but I just had to balance it all. Eventually, I paid for it. I became a living vibrator. Every single moment around people felt like hell. Walking from home to school was hard, but I persisted. I told myself, “I don’t care about me anymore.”
Supervisor calls. Project colleagues cry. Every time I told them how uneasy it was for me, others would say, “It’s the same for us.” In fact, every single day from 6–7, I tried my best to be in school by 7–8. At some point, I collapsed. I knew something was wrong. My project colleagues began to notice abnormalities in the way I spoke.
People around me would say, “Joseph, your sleep is abnormal. If you die, no one will know.” They kept peeping at my window. Faruk and Olamide—those guys really watched over me. I miss them. Olamide once said, “You’re in the manic state of schizophrenia.” My dressing no longer mattered to me. I didn’t even have the strength to cook anymore. Sometimes I would go to my parents at home for rest and freshness, but even then, when I returned...
Omo! Life was hard.
I knew I had to fight. Soon, what I was reading stopped entering. Elijah assisted somehow. Olamide could survive 2–3 days without food. I knew I hadn’t been eating well—it affected me and my project. Soon, food came, and I no longer cared. I ate so well. My lecturer gave me food, and later, my parents too.
Psychologically, my brain wasn’t okay. No one except me knew.
No headaches—just shaking hands and legs. I had constant angina... Chest pain. Still... Every homo sapiens say that I am not doing enough.😂.
I almost lost my reason to live. I felt drained and pained.
The task ahead was great, but I managed—not by my strength—to finish well. I thank God.
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