By the time I was in the final year of medical school, I had survived so many moments of anguish, hurt, tears, pain, and fear that I was least worried about any outcome of medical school other than being purged out of the system.
"Do you think we should pass him?" I overheard two of my lecturers examine me during the practical examination. Hearing this, I felt my heart cut asunder, as though a laser had struck down a tree.
Studying for the final examination in medical school was a herculean task; I read even while brushing and easting, all for the purpose of passing the examination. History, they say, repeats itself. I had occasion to repeat a year in medical school during the fourth year, which destabilized me and further knitted our bonds as friends due to the fate that enveloped us. We were five in number, and thankfully, we scaled through that hustle during the fourth year.
"The questions seemed to have emanated from the depths of hell; I could barely answer any of them confidently." Akin had lamented bitterly with a sorrowful look. I could very much relate to what he said because I had encountered similar questions in the examination hall. It was as though the lecturers scripted questions where we least expected them. It was not unusual for the majority of our colleagues to fret over the possible outcomes of the examination, as uncertainty was the only certain factor.
The result of the final-year medical examination came out negative. I had hoped it would be otherwise, even though I knew the chance was slim. However, we had an alternative: a resit of the examination three months after my colleagues had graduated and become medical doctors. Failing that second chance would mean an outright repeat of the final year.
Akin, David, Femi, and Kemi (the only female in our midst) practically relocated to my one-bedroom apartment, which was situated outside the campus. The room had a thick blue rug on the floor other than the mattress, which made it comfortable for us to take different reading positions. Each segment of the room had past questions and textbooks littered around. Those three months we had to prepare for the resit examination were such that they brought us closer to date. We studied hard, slept in the room, showered, ate, and continued our group discussion. We took breaks most often at the same time, just to relax our working brains. Being together during that discussion was a strong motivation for us.
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We eventually wrote the examination, and we came out of the hall smiling and hopeful. Waiting for the result was tensive as we prayed and hoped none of us would be left behind. Thankfully, we all passed and got inducted a few months later. The time we bonded for a purpose even as friends further united us to this day, and we communicate occasionally. We had a WhatsApp group we named "FOCUS" which still exists to this day, with the intention of helping us achieve our aim, which was to pass the resit examination.
