It had been five years since I graduated from medical school and up until today, I had nothing grand to show for it. Not the dream job, not one admission into my preferred residency program, and certainly not a stable life. I had failed PLAB three times. Three whole times. If you know how expensive the journey to becoming a licensed international doctor in the UK is, you would understand why failing that many times feels depressing.
Some days, like today, I sit quietly and wonder what would have become of me if I weren't privileged. I imagine that I would have to take a loan to be able to write PLAB even once because the pathway costs millions. Yet, here I was, with my father funding everything, and I still couldn't prove myself.
Every year I wrote the exam, my family went with me to the venue and sat patiently in the waiting room, hoping they would be the first to hear me say, “I'm getting called back for step 2.” But every chance ended with disappointment.
I sometimes wondered if they were suffering from disappointment fatigue just as I did, but they never gave me reasons to believe so. My family loved and supported me exactly as I was. They never used anyone's success as a lesson against my failures. To them, it was already a great achievement that I graduated from medical school without resits and obtained my full license to practice medicine in our country.
Still, every time I failed, there was always that one person who would approach me to offer some unsolicited advices.
I remember one comment from a family friend the previous year. They said to me:
“If you have this much money to write PLAB again and again, why not just commit to a job at a government facility while you wait for your parents to open a hospital in your name? They can afford it.”
When I got home that day, I cried terribly because that advice was an indication that people were slowly giving up on my own dreams without my consent. But I was also tired of trying and failing, especially with the near success syndrome I experienced. I wanted to become that girl everyone once celebrated for acing her exams.
I held my study book close to my chest and stood up to pray for God's intervention. I cried and asked for his help in a way I had never done before. I had spent months burning the midnight oil, and even stealing an hour or two from my busy schedule to study a little more. But just like the previous years, my dedication never felt like it was enough. Maybe it was time for God to help me.
My next exam was only a few hours away and my parents were already preparing to leave with me. My mom packed all my exam essentials into my leather bag, and brought in my outfit for the day, the one she helped me iron. My dad warmed the car and made sure to remind my siblings to get ready on time.
Shortly after, they all gathered in my room and we prayed together.
Something was different during that prayer. I felt the kind of confidence that I hadn't felt in a long time. I didn't mention a word about it to anyone. I just thanked my family and we drove to the venue.
When we arrived at the venue, the waiting room looked almost empty.
“Could it be that there are not many doctors writing PLAB this year?” I wondered.
“I wonder why many people are not here today,” my mom said, almost as if she had read my thoughts.
“Maybe it is the economy. How many people can afford to spend millions trying to relocate every year? We will probably see the numbers after the exam season.” My brother, Tega said.
My dad looked around the quiet room and smiled.
“I do not know about the rest of you but this environment looks like it was prepared for the success of one person today. And that person is my daughter.”
We all laughed and I hugged him.
“Number twenty six, Ejiro Okeremute.”
“Present,” I answered, knowing it was almost time to go in.
“Mummy, Daddy, Efe, Tega, thank you for standing by me through all of this. I cannot wait to make you proud someday.”
“Someday?” my dad asked in a playful tone of disbelief.
“Sweetie, someday is today.“Do not postpone success with your mouth. Declare it the moment you feel it.” My mom said.
Her words felt like the final push I needed to fully embrace my strength.
I hugged them one more time and walked into the exam hall.
The moment I logged into my dashboard and pressed “Start Exam,” something in me knew I was going to ace it. My heart burst with relief. Every question felt familiar and easy. For the first time in years, I was not fighting confusion, panic and forgetfulness.
I answered each question with certainty and when I was done, I was left with more time to review my work.
Two hours and thirty eight minutes later, I pressed submit and exited the exam site.
My parents rushed towards me the moment they saw me walk out of the exam hall with a wide smile across my face. My siblings jumped on me, shouting congratulations before I even spoke.
My family had been right all along. All I needed was a strong belief in God, confidence in myself and in everything I had studied. My success was not about the failures but the patience, the continuous dedication and the people who never stopped believing in me when I struggled to hold myself down.
But more than that, I could finally see my dreams beginning to take shape. I knew, deep inside me, that I was going to pass the physical part of the exam as well because clinicals was my greatest strength. And for the first time in years, I truly believed that the future I had been fighting for was finally within reach. Success was finally at my door again.
"Thank you, Jesus." I said with a smile as my family and I walked towards the car to go find an eatry where we could have lunch and celebrate this huge feat.
THANK YOU FOR READING MY SHORT STORY!🤗
