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..and a lot
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HAPPY DEMOCRACY DAY, NIGERIA!

We pray that God's wisdom, peace, and prosperity will continue to abound in our nation, Nigeria.

We pray for fair leadership and equitable distribution of resources.

We also pray for our leaders, that God will grant them wisdom, integrity, and a sincere heart to govern and promote peace in our nation.

We pray for all citizens who have been affected by hardship, insecurity, or loss in one way or another, that God will comfort them and grant them peace.

We also pray that all those who seek to harm our nation will be brought to justice.

Amen. 🙏🇳🇬

Yesterday, my son came back from his WAEC examination, but something was different.

Normally, when he returns from school, there's always something to talk about, how the paper went, which questions were difficult, who forgot their calculator, or even the usual laughter that comes with being a teenager.

But yesterday, he was quiet.
Too quiet.
As a mother, I immediately knew something was wrong.

I asked him, "How was your Physics paper?"
He looked at me and said, "It wasn't fine."
Ahhh!!I was confused.

My son had prepared for this exam. I had watched him stay up late reading. I had seen him sacrifice his playtime, endure power outages, and study under conditions many adults would struggle with.

So I asked again, "What happened?"
The answer shattered me.
"Mummy, the invigilators said we should pay ₦5,000 each or our papers would not get to the marking centre."

For a moment, I thought I heard him wrongly.
"What do you mean?"
He explained that the students were told to contribute money. Their principal reportedly had to beg for the amount to be reduced to ₦3,000. Some students had no money and had to borrow from friends. Others were frightened that refusing to pay would affect their results.

Then came the statement that left me speechless:
"They said for Mathematics and English, there will be no negotiation."

I felt sick.
Imagine being a child.
You spend months preparing for one of the most important examinations of your life. You wake up before dawn to read. You attend extra lessons. Your parents struggle to pay school fees and buy textbooks.

Then, on the day of the examination, instead of being encouraged to believe in your abilities, you are made to believe that money matters more than preparation.

What exactly are we teaching these children?
That hard work is useless?
That success is for sale?
That corruption is the real examination they must pass?
I was furious and asked what the school authorities were doing about it.

My son said their proprietor claimed he had already paid over ₦350,000 since the examinations began and could no longer continue carrying the burden alone.
And that's when the reality hit me.
This problem is bigger than one student.
Bigger than one school.
Bigger than one examination centre.

We are witnessing the gradual destruction of the values we should be teaching the next generation.
We tell our children to study hard.
We tell them honesty pays.
We tell them integrity matters.

But the system keeps showing them the opposite.
How do you convince a child that education is the key to success when the adults in charge of education appear to be selling the lock?

How do you tell a student to believe in merit when corruption is staring them in the face inside an examination hall?

Today, my heart aches not only for my son but for every child sitting in those examination rooms.
For the brilliant student whose parents cannot afford extra money.

For the honest student who just wants to pass through hard work.

For the child who may eventually conclude that reading is pointless because everything has a price.

This is how dreams die.
Not always through failure.
Sometimes through disappointment.
Sometimes through the moment a young person realizes that the adults entrusted with their future are the very ones teaching them that integrity doesn't matter.

And perhaps the saddest part is that when I shared this experience, another parent simply shrugged and said:
"That's normal."

Normal?

Since when did exploiting children become normal?
Since when did intimidating students become normal?
Since when did corruption in an examination hall become normal?

If this story is true across many centres, then we should all be worried.
Because the greatest tragedy is not the money being collected.
The greatest tragedy is the message being passed to an entire generation.

A generation that is watching.
A generation that is learning.
A generation that may one day become exactly what we are teaching them to be.

The Ministry of Education, WAEC, and every relevant authority must investigate these allegations and take decisive action.

Our children deserve examination halls where their knowledge is tested, not their ability to pay.

Nigeria cannot build a better future while teaching its young people that corruption is the price of opportunity.

Our children deserve better.

And we must stop pretending that this is normal.

Last Thursday night I ran out of fuel on Third Mainland Bridge.
11pm.
Phone at 2%.
No powerbank.
I want to tell you what happened next.

I pushed the hazard lights on and sat in the car.
Trying to think.
Cars were flying past me.
Nobody slowed down.
Not one person.
Lagos at night on that bridge is a different kind of alone.After about 15 minutes I saw headlights slow down behind me.
A danfo bus.
Old. Battered. One headlight slightly dim.
The driver came down.
Big man. Rough looking. Dirty shirt. Chewing something.
My first thought was fear.
My second thought was I had no choice.He looked at my car.
Looked at me.
Said "fuel?"
I nodded.
He didn't say anything else.
Just went back to his bus.
I thought he was leaving.
He wasn't.He came back with a small gallon.
Maybe two liters.
Old plastic container with a rubber pipe attached.
Like he kept it specifically for situations like this.
He poured it into my tank without being asked.
Without negotiating.
Without even looking at me for approval.I started the car.
It came on.
I came down immediately and opened my wallet.
I had ₦15,000 on me.
I held it out to him.
He looked at the money.
Then looked at me.
And shook his head.I thought he wanted more.
I told him it was all I had.
He said "keep am."
Just like that.
Keep am.
I stood there confused.
This man just helped a stranger on a bridge at 11pm and didn't want anything.I asked him why.
He leaned against his bus.
Took a long breath.
And said something I have not stopped thinking about since.He said in 1998 he broke down on that same bridge.
Night time.
Pregnant wife in the passenger seat.
No phone. No money. No fuel.
He said he sat there for almost an hour crying and praying.Then a man in a big car stopped.
Suit and tie.
Looked like someone who had no business stopping for a danfo driver.
But he stopped.
Bought fuel from somewhere.
Came back.
Filled his tank.
Refused every kobo he offered.
Said only one thing before he drove off."Pass am forward."
That was it.
Pass am forward.
The man in the suit drove away and he never saw him again.
25 years he carried those three words.
Third Mainland Bridge.
Waiting for his own turn to use them.I stood on that bridge and didn't know what to say.
This man had been holding onto someone else's kindness for 25 years.
And he chose me to give it to.
A stranger in a car he had never seen before.He got back into his danfo.
Gave me one nod.
And drove off into the night.
I stood there watching his one dim headlight disappear.
Holding ₦15,000 I couldn't give away.I sat back in my car for a long time before I drove off.
Thinking about the man in the suit in 1998.
Who had no idea what he started.
A chain of kindness that crossed 25 years and found me on the same bridge.I don't know who that danfo driver is.
I don't know his name.
But somewhere in Lagos tonight he is driving that old bus.
With one dim headlight.
And a heart that has been quietly changing lives since 1998.
Pass am forward.

*What are you passing forward today*?

Karma!!!!!

You will definitely reap something some day.
Depends on what you have been sowing!!!!

Connect with us and be open to academic success

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