It was a cold evening, the sun had already made its way westward across the sky, oozing a soothing breeze. The sun's golden rays splashed through the window as I jumped into my bed, about to tackle Mr. Chijioke's Mathematics assi.alignment.“Kufre come on, your dinner is ready.” That was my mom, the only family I had left. My father died two days after my birthday, one year ago.
“My son, believe me, you'll fly, and I'll personally see to that.” That was my father's parting words. He’d always been impressed with my brilliance and smartness. He promised to send me to school, “until you become a star that will lead nations,” he'll always tell me."My star boy, I promise you, where I stopped will be your starting point in life.” That was his mission.__________I jumped off the bed and hurried to get my food downstairs. Then suddenly, someone yanked me into the laundry room, “be quiet," she whispered, her voice trembling. “I heard that too." It was my mom… or at least, it looked like her. Her eyes-there was something off about them like she wasn't seeing me. For a moment, doubt flickered in my mind, but I pushed it away. “What's going on, Mom?” I whispered back, heart pounding.“Someone is down there," she began, her breath caught in her throat, "I don't know who he is, but whoever he is, we are not safe around him." Then she held me by the hand, leading the way, "Let's get back to your room.” She instructed.“No… I need to see who's down there.” I said quickly. “I can't just hide." Before she could raise an eyebrow, I was out of her grip and sped off. Soon, I was in the kitchen. My heart raced when I got there. My right leg was in front, while the left waited behind. The figure before me was wrong - its very presence twisted the air, making my skin prickle and my legs feel like stone. At that point, I wished I never got there. I prayed for the ground to open and swallow me. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ear, with confidence underneath terrible fear, “Who are you?" I stammered, praying he didn't pounce on me. He made a step towards me, then another, and another…__________Soon, my gloomy eyes began to unravel into fragments of light, and with a jolt, I awoke in my bed, the faint warmth of the sun still lingering in my mind. “This dream again?" I exhaled in tears.'Your father is dead, Kufre.' something keeps reminding me. “All the promises he made to me, all the vision he had for me, they are all gone." I sobbed.' That's enough Kufre. You can't keep doing this to yourself every morning.’ I wiped the tears and jumped out of bed. My mom left before the sun had fully risen, as she always did now. She was off to find another wedding job—our only lifeline since Dad passed away.
The thought of it weighed heavily on me. As I watched her leave, a knot tightened in my chest—she was doing her best to keep us afloat, but I could see the weight of my father's absence on her shoulders too. I rushed through my morning routine, the water from my bath still cold against my skin as I tried to shake off the persistent heaviness in my chest. I ate without tasting, the food barely more than fuel to get me through the day. The clock was ticking, so I hurried into my uniform, grabbed my bag, and stepped out into the day. Class 3, my senior year, loomed ahead like an insurmountable mountain. The workload, the pressure, the expectations—everything felt like it was stacked against me. I knew it would be the hardest year yet, but there was no choice but to push forward.__________I headed straight to Mr. Chijioke’s office, suddenly recalling his request from the past three weeks. Grief had clouded my mind, pushing his reminder out of reach. That morning, however, I resolved to meet him before my classes."Good morning, sir," I greeted, entering. He sat back in his chair, adjusting his glasses with a piercing gaze.“I’m sorry, sir, I completely—” Spare me the excuses," he interrupted sharply. “I’ve told you, only children are prone to forgetfulness. You might forget your name one day. What brought you here today?”“You wanted to see me…”"Yes, for the past six months?”Three weeks sir.” I objected."Do you even have the mouth to argue? Now sit down or you walk out and wait until it's three years. Rubbish!”“Thank you, sir." I uttered as I sat slightly on the visitor's chair.
"Kufre." The sound of his voice was soft, followed by a brief chuckle that danced in the air."Sir." The word escaped my lips before I even realized it, my body instinctively sitting up straighter with tension. I knew that tone too well. When Mr. Chijioke chuckles like that, it means something monumental is coming. Something that would change everything. His hands slid into the drawer with a deliberate slowness. He pulled out a piece of paper, laid it down carefully, and pushed it toward me with a slow, intentional motion. His smile was contagious, his eyes sparkling with a secret hidden behind. I took the paper, my fingers trembling as I unfolded it. My eyes rushed over the words, greedily trying to absorb them all at once. But no matter how many times I read the same lines, they never changed.“Sir?” My voice cracked, and tears began to well in my eyes. I lifted my gaze slowly, locking eyes with him, seeking some kind of explanation. “Sir… w-what is this?”He removed his glasses with a soft expression of genuine warmth. Clearing his throat, he looked at me with a gaze so steady and full of pride that it sent a chill through me.
Then he said, "Kufre, my boy, I'm so happy for you. Your resilience, your determination—it's all paid off. You've done it. Congratulations."The world seemed to slow as his words flew in my mind. Before I could fully grasp the weight of what he was saying, my body was already in motion. I shot up from my seat, my heart soaring, propelled by a force I couldn't explain. A mix of joy, disbelief, and hope carried me out of Mr. Chijioke’s office in a blur. I couldn’t wait to tell my mother, to share the news with the world—I had just won a federal scholarship. I was free to choose any university in the country, my future wide open before me like an endless horizon. In that moment, the dreams I once thought were far beyond reach unfolded right before my eyes. I could hear my father’s voice in my head, his last words before he passed: “Kufre, my son, no dream is too big, and none is too small to achieve.”The tears that slid down my cheeks now were not just for the dreams realized but for the legacy of hope my father had left behind. And as I stepped into the future, I knew—wherever he was, I had made him proud.
The image used is mine.
