Despite the huddles and storms of life, my dreams of becoming a professor remain a still burning coal; unquenchable. It’s not easy as I speak. I feel the pains of trekking a long distance from home to school without any pocket money to even get myself a sachet of water. Hunger hits me hard, I yawn and yawn hopelessly, and I rejoice when I find the least meal like garri, just to drink and stay alive.
There are days when my books are almost tearing apart, yet I still manage them because I can’t afford new ones. Other times, I sit in class with an empty stomach, trying to focus while my head spins lightly from hunger. And on some really tough days, I stay awake deep into the night reading, not because I want to, but because that’s the only quiet time I have but this one problem one lack of electricity stares me in the face and with my just small lantern, i fight the darkness.
But in all these struggles, I refuse to give up. I remind myself that every step I take, every sacrifice I make, and every night I endure brings me closer to the future I dream of. I may be weak sometimes, but my hope is stronger. And as long as that inner fire continues to burn, nothing, no hunger, no lack, no distance will stop me from becoming the professor I see in my heart.
