The letter came some three months ago; I was glad and scared at the same time. I opened it with trembling hands and with some form of smile on my face. Inside of me, I was praying that my name would be there this time around. I read the first part of the letter, and it says, "We regret to inform you...." That was all I needed to feel dejected and sad. There's no point in reading the remaining part of the letter; I already know what it will contain. This is my fourth year of receiving such a letter.
I sat down on the floor, staring at the letter and feeling worse than I've ever felt. I could not tell anyone about it again, not after all I've tried and how my parents had thought this is my time. They had watched me pay close attention to my studies; they had seen me pray and all. Even my friends and family had high hopes in me, including my neighbors, who knew I had been sitting at home after four years of finishing secondary school.
So, I lied. I picked myself up, dusted my trousers, and went to the living room, where my mom and dad were sitting and discussing. I told them I had been accepted into the higher institution. They felt very happy, and my mom won't stop shouting, "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah." I told my friends the same too, and in no time the news circulated around our neighborhood.
And that was how I began to leave home early every morning, pretending I was leaving for school. My parents aren't rich, so I know there's very little they would want to do about accommodations and the like. I would spend most of my time in the cyber cafe, using what they had given to me as transport to school to browse the Internet for opportunities and various scholarships I might never get, or to research more and get to know a few things myself about the course of study I was never studying. I became a student in my neighborhood and a failure in truth.
Not only that, but I even grew in the lie. There was a day I reached out to my mom....
"Mum, lectures are taking longer than usual, and I'll be home late." I would imagine the smile on her face on the other end of the phone, believing in my words and trusting that her child is doing very well in school, while I on the other end would only delay myself in the cafe till they are almost closing for the day.
But the weight of the lie on me was too much; it felt like I was being caged. It was overwhelming; it made my heart not only beat but race as if something huge and bigger than me was closing in on me. And in no time, I was already talking to myself....
"You can't keep this up." "How long will you continue like this, guy? Think."
But even with all of that, I would still dress up, smile, and leave again.
And that was how I was living, or so I thought. And weeks turn into months. Relatives as well got to know me and kept wishing me well. Some chatted me up, asking how I was doing and all of that. Some even went as far as asking about my timetable, my lecturers, and when exams will be starting. And somehow, with the help of the internet and my browsing, I was able to provide them with answers, even though there are certain names and subjects I invented a name for myself.
So, it happened one afternoon, and one of my uncles traveled over. I thought he only came to visit, but while he was discussing things with my parents in the living room, I overheard them saying he just got employment as a lecturer at my school—the school I claimed to have gained admission into. I froze immediately when I heard that. Not long after, my mom called out to me as my uncle needed my presence.
He asked me a few things about the school, and I tried my best to give him a response. Then he asked me, "Your results were great; which course did you finally opt for?"
"Accounting sir." I replied.
"Wow, that's the department I'm in too." He said.
At that moment, my heart skipped a beat. There's no point continuing with the lie; the truth will be out in a matter of days now. So, I said it. The truth.
"I didn't get... didn't get admitted. I lied." I said, not speaking to anyone in particular.
Then silence followed, a kind that even words can't comprehend. I was still processing what could come at me, but I was surprised when my mom sighed, stood up, and put her hands on my shoulders.
"Why, why didn't you tell us?" She asked.
I wasn't expecting nor did I even think of such a reaction or question; I was imagining worse.
"I just didn't want to disappoint anyone anymore. And I've been trying to find ways around it, thinking I can get it fixed and handle it alone." I said with a cracking voice.
Tears ran down my mom's face, and she held me tighter. My father didn't utter a word; he just sat there and shook his head. My uncle kept looking from one person to the other, then rested his gaze on me.
In the weeks that followed, my parents kept doing the little they could and reaching out to people they knew for other schools that still had their admission open, while my uncle, on his part, was doing his best to help me secure admission to the school I claimed to be admitted to and he's now working at.
Being honest and coming out plain didn't ruin me; it set me free. The lie had been heavy, very heavy for me, but the truth, even though it hurt, brought about understanding and hope.
I remember that night the truth came out as if it was yesterday. That night I slept peacefully without doubt or fear of pretending and having to sneak around. And for the first time in a long while, I was myself again.
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