We all have problems in life. At times we cannot solve them on our own. That is why we publish the letters of our readers to get your help. You might have been in a similar situation. You may know the solution. Share your opinion with those, who really need it.
File photo of a sad black woman (not real photo).
Here is the story our reader wants to share with us and get your opinions:
“It wasn’t real because I have never given it a real thought, well until three days ago, when I just blurted it out to Babe. It had been nagging in my chest, slowly becoming a nuisance, but until I actually said the words to Babe, the idea of dropping out had never been a real thing.
Dropping out of school isn’t the sort of thing a girl like me would/should consider. A girl brought up in a good home with everything catered for and stuffs stuffs stuffs. But more reasonably, a girl with so much academic excellence and promise. My secondary school was filled with the same phrases from everyone when I told them I wanted to be a writer, “you want to waste your brains” they would half say, half question.
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My Papa hammered, drummed and sang the medicine thing – you will be a doctor. They so much believed in me, the girl with her face always buried inside a book. I still wonder why they didn’t see it then, why they still can’t see it now. Or maybe they can, they are just ignoring it, labeling it insignificant, a child that doesn’t know any better.
I grew up reading my Papa’s newspapers (with much encouragement from him), then I shifted to novels, history books, documentaries – different sizes, hundreds to thousands of pages. I was so immersed in books (still am) and writing only followed naturally. One time Papa called me into his bedroom and told me he didn’t want me to do medicine just because it was what he wanted. That day, he asked me what I really wanted – I said medicine.
Maybe then I didn’t know (who the eff am I kidding, I’ve always known!), but all I’ve ever wanted to do is write. Nobody was just listening because they felt self assured that someone with brains like mine should automatically choose medicine.
Only Babe has ever looked at me with eyes full of genuine understanding when I say I just want to write. I did physics for a year, then pursued Nursing, got into medicine and surgery, and now switched to pharm sciences. And I finally realized the truth that I would not rest if it’s not writing. It goes deeper than this, the uncertainty, the shallow feeling of emptiness, it’s all irregular and just too depressing. I do not possess the elaborate vocabulary or literary prowess to put into words, how it really feels, the reality of the weight it puts on me.
I told Babe I wanted to drop out. This time, do it my own way. Fill out my jamb form by myself and perhaps go for English and literary studies even if it means rewriting waec. And until now, when I finally voiced it out to Babe, and now typing it, the prospects of dropping out has never felt so real. It seems reckless and foolish but my spirit wouldn’t be still.“
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If you have been in a similar situation or know the solution, please share your experience with this young lady.
If you also want to share your story in order to get other people’s view about it, you can send the story to info@corp.zenithblog.com. Do not forget to type “My story” as the subject. We will reply you immediately and publish the story as soon as we can
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