"Gooooaaaalllllllll!", Screams filled the air, with many fists pumping in joy. I jumped up and down a few times, the happiness threatening to burst out of me. Ademola Lookman, the number 18 forward just sealed Nigeria's place in the quarter-finals in the AFCON tournament, handing us a 2-0 win against longtime rivals, Cameroon. One particular Nigerian player stood out during the game. He commanded the ball like it was an extension of himself in fluid, graceful movements, cut through the opponent's defense like a hot knife through butter. His reputation as the "king of goals" precedes him. The most expensive African player of all time with a club-record fee of $92million, according to a reputable Nigerian news outlet. He has achieved international fame and recognition, awarded the 2023 African player of the year award after various exploits at club level. He is none other than Victor Osimhen, bearer of number 9 jersey, Nigeria's golden boy.  His success has eclipsed his traumatic upbringing, marred by poverty and gruelling laborious work. He used to live in a makeshift house near a dumpsite and lost his mother at an early age. His father, saddled with the responsibility of raising and providing for 7 young children lost his job all of a sudden. Throwing the entire family into an unending cycle of hunger, uncertainty, and extreme poverty. He and his siblings had to take on menial jobs and hawking, surviving on daily wages, unsure of when their next meal would be. He risked his life severally while selling sachet water in traffic, often chasing after moving vehicles. In spite of the bleak situation, he didn't give up on his passion, football.  The day he was selected for the 2015 U-17 FIFA world cup marked a turning point for him. He showcased raw talent and led the team to victory, winning the golden boot and silver ball awards for his exemplary performance. He would later win the CAF young player of the year for 2015. It was not all rosy as he experienced some challenges along the way that threatened to bring his budding career to an abrupt halt.  He sustained injuries and had to undergo multiple surgeries with a subsequent decline in his performances. Rejected by clubs that had at first showed keen interest, he refused to be weighed down and continued training. By a stroke of luck and hardwork, he was signed by Sporting Charleroi where his career effectively took off. Currently, he plays for Napoli and earns £10.9million annually. Everytime I come across him on the news, internet or watch him perform magic on the pitch, I am reminded of someone who vehemently refused to let his background impact his life. I am inspired by his goal-getter attitude and cheerful outlook on life generally , in spite of obvious limitations. I think the saying, "you can achieve anything you put your mind to", is cliche but he embodies it in every sense.

I see myself in a white coat, stethoscope around the neck, easing a patient's pain and improving their quality of life. I see myself in scrubs, gloves donned and scalpel in hand, about to perform a life changing surgery. I see myself in the wards, assessing a patient's response to treatment and modifying accordingly. I see myself on an awareness walk, educating and screening people of endemic blood borne diseases. I see myself assuring a labouring mother to be, catching the baby as she gives a victorious growl. I blink and come back to reality, a 16 year old girl about to make one of the most important decisions of her life. I am filling a JAMB form, a qualifying exam which will determine my course of study and university for my undergraduate education. I have always imagined myself as a doctor, helping people with my medical knowledge. And now that my dream is within achievable reach, my palms are cold and my heart beating faster than usual. I cast my mind through the various professions that have piqued my interest over time, coming up short. I fill in medicine and surgery alongside choice university and submit the form, heart beats coming to a crescendo. I am 17 and in first year of university studying medicine. There is a latent feeling of euphoria and trepidation. There is a minimum CGPA we must achieve at the end of first year in order to proceed with 2nd year. I am not worried though, the new courses are familiar concepts from high school. I am confident in my abilities. I make new friends from various departments but I still feel homesick sometimes. My hostel is a horror so I go to my friend's place frequently. We read, play, read some more and play harder. I am having a blast. I am 18 and in 2nd year, the courses have become a bit complex, we have been introduced to anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. My dream is gradually being actualized. I quickly learn that the courses are more voluminous and the exams are structured differently. We have blocks instead of semesters and incourses are held at the end of each block. A professional MBBS exam will be held when we have gone through all the blocks. There is some fear and anxiety, the incourses are not as simple as I expected and I experience my first failure. I quickly shrug it off, when the going gets tough, the tough gets going.  I am 19 and the MBBS exams are fast approaching. I cry sometimes while reading, the information simply refuses to stick. My parents are a huge source of strength and I double my efforts, pulling all-nighter several times a week. Exam timetable is posted and the tension is palpable. I pull through exam weeks feeling wrung out, but hoping for the best. While we await exam results, I am plagued with feelings of inadequacy. I wonder if I made the right career choice. The results are finally released and I pass with credits. Some of my coursemates got distinctions and a small percentage failed, they are to retake the exams in 3 months. My happiness at passing masks my growing resentment at the whole system. Then COVID happens, and there is widespread panic and misinformation. The government issues directives and guidelines, my school is shut and I go home. The whole country is on lockdown and the health care workers don their PPEs. I am reminded of the reasons why I chose medicine, the selfless acts and caring attitude, never turning away patients despite being stretched to the brim.I feel proud to have picked such a noble profession. 

She cradled the remote in her palm, pushing the buttons lightly and settled for her favourite channel. Her ebony skin is radiant in the low lighting. She notices me looking at her and the corner of her lips lift without much effort, settling into the familiar creases and folds that were gained from a lifetime of smiling and laughing as if she had no care in the world. The look in her eyes is one that I know very well, it's how she has looked at me for the most part of my life that I can remember, like I could do no wrong. She has a calming aura that is comforting. I marvel at her resilience and indomitable spirit, her ability to thrive even in the midst of challenges. This was particularly evident during the COVID lockdown periods. Even before the first index case was discovered in Nigeria, we had seen reports of a new strange illness spreading rapidly with a high mortality rate on the internet. It was worrying that the medical professionals had no specific cure or vaccines for it at the time and that it was highly contagious.  It took a new turn when it was discovered that it could be spread to other countries and across continents by travellers. That was very scary and then countries started locking borders in a bid to contain the spread and prevent a global pandemic.    There was widespread panic when our country announced its first COVID-19 case. Some used this opportunity to perpetuate fake news and peddle certain medications and supplements as the 'cure' and surefire way to prevent covid. It felt like Armageddon, people started preparing for the worse. In the midst of all this, my mother started gathering information about this illness and how best to prevent it. She enforced the use of face masks and put a curfew in place at home, limiting any unnecessary outing. She was particularly scared for me, I was more likely to be exposed to the virus in the hospital. The government tried to mitigate the spread of the virus by issuing guidelines and directives. Eventually, a lockdown was put in place and schools were shut down.  Our reunion was a bittersweet moment, her arms reflexively opened in readiness for a hug and quickly snap shut. Physical contact was restricted in this new reality. I couldn't risk transmitting this disease to my family in case I was already infected, so I was isolated for 7 days. That didn't dampen my mom, she tried as much to include me in family activities and would speak with me for long hours. Asides the strain this period put on one's mental health, the economy also took a downturn. People lost their jobs and feeding became somewhat difficult. Mom would pack some fruits and other consumables to share to the community people.  The COVID period was a difficult time but my family was able to pull through by staying together and due to the efforts of my superwoman, my mother.

When I was younger, I had this mental image of my dad as a huge rock, able to withstand whatever life threw on his path. Now older me simply marvel at the extraordinary man that my dad is. I have watched him navigate through very difficult situations with his head held up high. When I was in junior secondary school, my eldest brother gained admission into the university. The added tuition put my father into some kind of financial constraint and for the first time, our school fees were delayed. It was in the midst of this that his workshop was demolished by a gas pipeline rigging company where he lost everything. How he managed to stay sane during this period is something to be studied. Interestingly, I don't remember him complaining once about the situation, instead, he quietly and determinedly picked up the pieces and started afresh. I once failed an important examination and I was mad at the exam body. I thought I deserved better at first and with that thinking came doubts about my intelligence. I eventually spiraled down a black hole of anger, negative self-esteem, and shame. My dad helped me overcome this by continually encouraging me, sharing experiences of similar things he faced, and how he was able to defeat these feelings. In the not-so-distant past, my favorite time of the day was the late evenings when we would gather in front of the house and just converse. My dad usually told stories, sometimes he shared the experiences he had growing up, other times he told riddles and folklores. It didn't matter which though, we were sure to gain a moral lesson that resonated deeply within us. It would set us thinking and we would gaze at the stars, imagining things we would have done differently if we were the characters in the story. The days he shared his life stories always had me feeling a myriad of emotions; sadness that he experienced these things, happiness that he overcame the challenges, and hope that no challenge is insurmountable. He had a tough life growing up and had to do odd jobs to survive, he had to drop out of school at some point but didn't let his lack of formal education deter him from accomplishing his dreams. I think back to these times anytime I have challenges and feel like quitting, drawing strength from him to remind myself that I am the daughter of a man who simply refused to quit. One evening, we took our seats in the compound as usual when the orange glow of the sun had faded, leaving luxuriant darkness in its wake. I can't remember how the conversation got around to this but something my dad said that night struck me deeply and has stayed with me ever since. He said he ran into a relative who marveled at his appearance and told him that If he had known that he(my dad) would turn out this way, he would have supported him while he was growing up. I could tell these words hurt my dad. I know he said it to encourage us that while people may not always think our dreams are valid, it's entirely up to us to turn them into reality. I couldn't help but think of how easier his journey could have been having he received support. As a grown-up now, I finally understand the message he passed that night, that absolutely nobody owes me anything. #writingcontest