That carryover followed me from 100 till final year, getting to final year the course was no longer in our curriculum as a department. I forgot to tell you that then it was a borrowed course, now we have returned it to the owners 🤣. I walked from office to office, filled forms that were thrown into the trash bin either by me or those in the office, I was broken just because of one course, just one. I almost gave up because the process that followed picking another course to substitute the one I needed to write was hectic 😭.
That was when I met "my father." I call him my father; Winnie calls him my second husband. I call him my father because my last name is his middle name. He taught me everything I needed to know, he was a corporal in my school then, he drafted out time tables for me, gave me reading hours and play hours (he was really strict). How did we meet? I went to my faculty to do registration and he just saw my name and then ......... It wasn't easy but I did it. Normally, I can't read on my own; it has to be a question-and-answer section for me to understand perfectly. He stopped me from going for group reading and asked that I read alone for long hours, while in the background he was looking for ways to help with the registration of the course, and he did.
I wrote the exams and then passed, which I have been battling with since year one. God used him.
I would have loved to mention his full name but I'll just say ## Chukwuemeka Nnam ## God bless you. While writing this post his message just popped up on my screen 😁.
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