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I was still running a course on graduate school applications when Frank and I became close. A few days before I wrapped up the program, Frank and I were having a conversation via WhatsApp, and I noticed his dull replies.
Having known Frank to be the life of the party, I was amazed. And perturbed, too. Probably because I didn't know how to ask him what was wrong, seeing that we had just got acquainted, and I didn't want to pry.
But when I summoned the courage to ask him, his reply was simple.
“I was denied a visa.”
It felt like a dagger was suddenly poked through my chest. I could feel the pain in that sentence. He had been denied a visa to further his studies in the US. I remembered my graduate course, I remembered that I hadn't even started my applications, and here was someone with like-passion denied a visa. It was as though I was before the consular officer and the words were said to my face.
My head was blank, and I stayed long on my keyboard, thinking of the right words to say. Eventually, I typed him a reply.
“May I ask why?”
It took him about five minutes to respond. I was about to tell him it was fine if he didn't want to talk at that point, when my phone buzzed.
“For some baseless reasons. I know how hard I worked for this. And to think that among about a hundred of us that came in for the interview, only two or three persons were granted visas.”
Throughout that day, nothing else interested me. My body, soul and spirit felt the weight of Frank's pain. He'd told me he was travelling to Lagos, although he didn't state the reason for the journey. So, this was it? Sometimes I would pause in the middle of an activity to imagine the efforts he put into his studies to come out with a first class. Other times, I would try to imagine the amount of money that went into that course.
My mind remained unsettled. Why was Frank denied his visa?
The thoughts lingered throughout. And after that night's virtual class, I asked my tutor.
“Sir, why are prospective graduate students denied visas?”
I relaxed a bit when I noticed the smile he let out at that question. I fixed my gaze on his face like a teenager about to receive quality advice from her mother.
He said, “You see, there are a thousand reasons why people are denied visas. But one major reason is if the scholarship applicant has not yet received funding.”
The next day, I asked Frank if he had received funding before travelling for the visa application. To my surprise, he said yes. The scholarship had been given, his documents were ready, the only thing left was the visa and here he was, back to square zero.
To be sincere, it kind of discouraged me, especially when Frank admitted that most young people from Nigeria planning to further abroad are held back at the embassy.
A few months later, Frank did his passing out parade and he told me he was set to go pursue other things. I was glad that at least, my friend had gotten over the denied visa dilemma. I was glad it didn't make it pause his life anyway.
But just two days ago, he resumed a dull mood. It was past six p.m. We were seated on a concrete slab in my school. When I asked what was wrong, he averted his gaze into the space, absentminded, as if I didn't ask him a question.
“Can I be sincere, Delight?” he soon spoke up.
I nodded affirmatively before realising his gaze was still away, so I added. “I mean, yes.”
“I want to reapply for another visa...” he hesitated for a while. “...but I'm scared.”
Frank has always been a goal-getter. I know how career-driven he is. But while he spoke, I realised it wasn't just him who was scared; I was also scared for him. For myself. What if...
But then I tossed the fears aside and advised him to try again.
Within me, I asked: ‘Would I have the courage to try again if it happens to me?’
‘What if he used up his last money like he said and it doesn't work out?’
So I let the silence stretch between us, each of us consumed with our thoughts.
Frank concluded that he would go for it, not just because he wanted to, but also because I was there to give him the moral support. And he said that while he works on that, he would try out other ventures. If either works, it would be a win-win, but by all means, he won't lose on both sides.
I smiled at his bravery. Yes, I could add that I wasn't just seated next to Frank, but to a determined chap. A winner right from his university days, a winner forever.
