The white envelope sat on the table. Like a prized possession, waiting to be revealed. Finally, Tobe turned it over in his hand. His father and sisters eyes followed him from the cane chair.
“Read it aloud, let's hear,” his Papa said.
Tobe sighed. He took a long, deep breath and read
***“We are pleased to inform you that you have been offered admission to study Medicine at the University of Lagos.” ***
Papa smiled. The lines on his wrinkled face deepened on his cheeks. “Doctor Tobe. Your mother would have been so happy.”
But Tobe barely smiled. He hesitated instead and spoke. “Papa, but… medicine is seven years. And the school fees, textbooks, and everything is so costly.”
Papa leaned forward. “Just leave the fees to me. Let me worry about that. Worry about how you will study to be the best in your class.”
But Tobe was still not happy. His face was blank with expression.
“What is it?’ his sister asked. “You don’t look happy.”
Tobe swallowed hard. He brought out the second letter folded in his pocket. “I also got a letter from Uncle Nnamdi. He says I should come to Lagos to join him in the shop. He said I can buy my own car in one year.”
Papa’s face darkened. “Which Nnamdi? So, the measure of a man to him is a car? He wants you to end up like him, running after spare parts all your life? I am not against his work; he is a millionaire, but I want you to be educated, even if you later choose to become a businessman later in life.”
“But Papa, he’s doing well,” Tobe countered quietly. “In a few years, I will be able to pay our rent, but with school, we will struggle to pay for school fees, and when I am done, I am not sure of securing a job immediately.”
Papa slammed the table. “Enough! I am a teacher, not a trader. And you?” He pointed at Tobe. “You will be educated. You will be a doctor.”
Everywhere was silent. Papa got up and walked inside.
Later that night, before we slept, Bella walked into my room.
“Brother, are you really going to Lagos for school?”
“I don’t know yet,” Tobe said. “I want to make money and get us out of poverty.”
Bella sighed, “But everyone is calling you Doctor Tobe already.”
“Who’s everyone?” “I heard Papa telling the neighbors. They were happy calling you Dr already.”
He rubbed his face. “Uncle Nnamdi promised to change my life. He said school is too slow.”
Bella tilted her head. “Mama used to say choices are like planting seeds. If you plant yams, you eat yams. If you plant weed, you suffer.”
Tobe looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. I used to ask her that too.” Bella got up and walked out.
The next few weeks were filled with thinking for Tobe. He spoke to a lot of friends, asking for their advice on what to do. A few of them, already in business, advised him to join them. While others asked, he accepted the university admission.
But on particular friend's advice stood out.
“Tobe, to be a businessman is great. I am successful, but if I had gone to school and added my knowledge from school to my business, I would be better than where I am today. Go to school, you can still do business as a side hustle.”
He was stuck on the fence.
A week later, Tobe parked his and headed for Upper Iweka park. He had in his pockets the two letters.
At the park, conductors were shouting, “Lagos! Lagos straight! Enter with your load!”
His father’s words before he left home kept replaying in his mind.
*“My son, don’t look back. No matter the struggle, remember who you are. You will make us proud.” *
“Where to, Oga?” a conductor asked him as Tobe stood before the bus entrance. He brought out the letters again and stared at them for the very last time. Whichever choice he makes would be a tough one for him.
Just then, his phone buzzed. A message from Uncle Nnamdi: Where are you? The shop is waiting. The money is waiting. Your life is waiting.
The conductor shouted at him. “Young man, are you entering or not? Leave the door if you’re not going!”
Tobe quickly climbed the bus steps, bag slung over his back. For a moment, his mind was frozen. The two letters in his hand kept staring at him like his conscience. His friends’ words replayed in his mind again
''…. if I had gone to school and added my knowledge from school to my business, I would be better than where I am today. Go to school, you can still do business as a side hustle.”
He tore Uncle Nnamdi’s note into pieces and deleted the messages. Then he stepped out of the bus, holding his admission letter tight against his chest.
‘Where can I enter a bus going to UNN?” He asked the conductor, who pointed him in the direction.
“I choose the seed of education. I will plant it and it will grow.” He muttered under his breath.
