Nerves And Surprises

As I scroll through my contacts, my thumb pauses on her number. I take a deep breath and dial, putting the call on speaker since it's noisy around us.

"Hello?" she answers.

"Uhm, hello... we've arrived," I say, trying to sound calmer than I feel.

"Okay, where are you?"

"We just came through the gate. We're under a tree," I reply, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Okay, I'm coming," she says, and I hang up, feeling a mix of emotions, excitement, nervousness, and a dash of anxiety.

I turn to face my mom, who's watching me with a smile. "She's coming," I tell her.

My stomach starts to feel queasy again, more intensely than before. I take another deep breath and gulp my saliva, reminding myself that I can do this. As long as I have the Lord by my side, my anxiety will fade away.

I watch as people walk by, some of them glancing our way. Most of the girls I see are dressed in trendy outfits, crop tops, off-shoulder tops, and fashionable styles that make me feel a bit out of place. I usually feel awkward dressing like that outside, but at home, it's a different story.

Just then, my phone rings and then stops, "Who was that?" my mom asks, curious.

"I don't know, let me check," I reply, glancing at the screen. "It was Chisom. Why did she call and cut it off?"

Before I can speculate further, a girl approaches us, her golden braids packed behind her head, and her multicolored shirt and black jeans making her light brown skin glow. I recognize her instantly, it's been a while since we last saw each other in person, but she looks a lot like her dad, and I can tell who she is.

"Ah, Chisom, you've grown really well, o!" my mom exclaims, opening her arms for a warm hug.

Chisom chuckles and returns the hug. "Thank you, aunty," she says, smiling.

"How did you even know it was us?" My mom asks as they pull away.

She turns to me, her eyes squinting slightly as she smiles."I saw you, and you look a lot like your dad."

"You're now a big girl, o!" my mom compliments her.

"Thank you!" Chisom responds.

I just smile and watch, unsure of what to say, or rather because I don't know what to say.

"Let me take you to the place where your exam is at," she says, turning to face me again.

Her small black purse hangs from her right shoulder, and I nod, feeling extremely nervous. I shouldn't be nervous, I'm not the only one writing this exam, many people are too.

I take a deep breath and follow her, walking beside her with my mom right behind us.

"You're prepared for this exam, right?" she asks, her eyes fixed on my hair edges. I wonder if she thinks they're pretty.

I nod, facing forward again. "Your exam is at 12, right?" she asks.

"Yeah, it is."

We approach a road and she stops to watch for incoming vehicles before crossing. I follow her lead, with my mom behind us.

"Your dad called me earlier and said if you need anything, you can just ask me," she mentions again. 

"Uhm, okay, thanks."

We continue walking straight, surrounded by people heading in the same direction. The tarred road looks beautiful, but it seems smaller compared to FUTO, which is huge!

After a few minutes of walking, she stops beside a building, "We've arrived," she says.

A sea of people is gathered here, and there's an umbrella behind us that appears to be a photocopying and printing spot.

"That is where you'll be writing your exam. Let's go forward," she says, leading the way.

She stops next to another building, with people sitting on the ledge of the building. There's a building straight ahead, some people lining up to enter, and others walking around.

"Wait a minute," she says to me, then walks over to a girl sitting nearby and starts talking to her. I can't hear what they're saying, but it's clearly about me.

She returns to me, "Sit here, it's not yet time for your exam. You'll wait until they call you."

I notice a vacant space behind me and take a seat next to a lady who embodies the definition of black beauty. Her hair is full and low, looking very soft, and her lip gloss makes her lips glint. She doesn't seem to mind that I've sat next to her, which is a relief. My mom sits down beside me, pulling off her bag.

"When it's your turn, you'll go in, so just wait, okay?" She says, standing in front of me.

I nod, still feeling extremely nervous.

"Okay, bye," she says with a smile.

"Aunty, bye," she waves at my mom.

"Take care, dear," my mom responds as she walks away.

I rummage through my bag, searching for my book, but it's buried beneath my clothes. Instead, I'll just pull out my reprinted slip, just in case it's my turn soon.

I zip open a compartment in my bag and retrieve my red file containing my main examination slip. As I open it, I notice many others holding theirs in hand.

A passing conversation between two girls catches my attention,

"Omo, that exam ehn, e no easy at all." I glance up, wondering what she meant. Is the exam tough?.

I double-check my slip, everything looks fine, but my palms are still cold and shaking. I return the slip to my file and put it back in my bag, feeling anxious.

Please, Lord, let me pass this exam. I take a deep breath, gaze up at the sky, and quickly look away, blinded by the sun.

"Hey," I hear someone say. Could he/she be addressing me?

A tap on my shoulder makes me turn to my right, and it's the girl sitting next to me. She looks stunning.

"Yeah?" I respond.

"What course are you applying for?" she asks in a Lagos-tinted accent, not even a pinch of igbo.

"Journalism and media studies," I reply softly.

"Me too," she says with a smile.

"Uhm, okay." I slowly turn back to face forward.

"Haven't you gone in yet?" she asks again.

I turn to face her once more. "Yeah, mine is at 12 pm. What about you?"

"I've already taken mine," she replies, her happy expression turning slightly somber.

"What's wrong?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I'm not doing great," she says, folding her arms and gazing at the grass.

"I didn't finish on time."

"Why was that?"

"It's tough, especially literature. I saw words I've never seen before," she turns to face me, her eyes concerned.

"The other sections are easy, but literature is holding me back."

Oh Lord, please make the questions easy for me!

"What kind of questions are they asking?"

"I can't remember. Nothing I read seems to be on the exam," she says, shaking her head.

My eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"

She nods, releasing her arms. "Wow," I turn back to face forward. Really? Is that how it is here?

"What's wrong?" I hear my mom asking me.

"I'm worried about the exam. I heard it's tough," I reply.

"Tough? Don't worry too much. Just do your best and leave the rest to God."

I take a deep breath, nodding in agreement.

As I wait, I overhear some girls conversing as they pass by.

"Nothing came out at all!"

"As in, I just dey pick any answer wey make sense." (For real, I just picked random answers)

"Lol, and the time sef wasn't enough!"

"True, my body just dey shake!"

"No be only you oh!"

Is the exam really tough?I hope not. I've been studying for days, and the thought of all my efforts going to waste is disheartening.

I sigh, checking the time on my phone, it's  9:45, still a long wait ahead.

"Yes, they said we should come with our JAMB result," I hear a female voice says.

My head jerks up, concerned.  Were we supposed to bring our JAMB results?

"Some people didn't bring theirs, I'm so lucky I brought mine," she continues.

My heart races with anxiety, what of people that didn't bring theirs?

"Did you bring your JAMB result?" My mom asks.

I shake my head, feeling a sense of dread.

"What are we going to do now?" she asks, sounding worried.

I'm terrified, my heart pounding. I turn to the girl beside me, "Did you bring your JAMB result?" I ask her.

"Yes, they mentioned it in the group," she replies.

"Group? Which group?" I'm confused.

"The WhatsApp group and also on Facebook, they announced it there. Didn't you join any group?"

I feel even more lost, "I didn't even know a group existed!"

"Ah, then you have to print it directly from your CAPS."

I instantly turn to my mom, relaying the message, "She says I need to print it from my CAPS."

"Go quickly! I saw a place nearby that offers printing services. Hurry up!"

I stand up, leaving my bag behind, and walk away.

"Do you have money with you?" My mom calls out.

I return to her, "It's in my bag, but I'm not sure if I'll need it."

"Take it, just in case. Go fast, be quick!" She hands me a thousand naira note.

I take the money and hurry away, clutching my phone and the cash tightly. My fear seems to override my anxiety, and I no longer care if people are watching me.

I finally spot the umbrella and quickly walk towards it. A few people are already there.

"Hello," a light brown skinned man with beards, who is much taller than me, greets me.

"I want to print my JAMB result," I get straight to the point, no time for small talk, I just want to get this done.

"Alright," he replies.

"I need your email address and JAMB password," he says, typing away on a laptop.

"Okay," I recite them from memory, "Amandaeze342@gmail.com" and "Candrec4g8" as my password.

"Okay, just wait a minute," he says.

I hope he finishes soon. I'm still confused about this group and how I missed the information. Maybe I'll ask him to add me later.

As I wait, I fold my arms and look around. There are a few other people here, operating the systems. The big umbrella provides shade for a few laptops and a singular printer on a big plastic table, and also for the few people being attended to.

I try to distract myself from the wait by turning the other way, but my heart won't calm down until I get my result slip.

Just then, my eyes land on him. He's wearing a big black shirt and baggy pants, with his hair packed behind him, and a few strands falling across his face.

I feel a pang of jealousy as he walks alongside a girl, and they're not too far from me. The girl has on a tight, long-sleeved black gown that reveals her laps, and long black braids that cascade down her back, sweeping past her knees. I wonder how she manages to carry that long hair and how long she spent in the salon.

I quickly look away, noticing him turning his head in my direction.

Seeing him with that girl brings me a sense of relief, realizing he doesn't have feelings for me and revealing his type, a girl who's "fully packaged" with qualities men often admire.

Just then, the man hands me my JAMB result slip. "Here you go." It looks sleek and pretty, I like it.

"How much is it?" I ask.

"One thousand naira," he replies.

I hand over the money and turn to leave, accidentally bumping into someone. Their scent floods my senses, and I step back, apologizing, "Sorry, so..."

My eyes widen in surprise, it's him! How did I not notice him standing there? I take a few steps back, feeling flustered.

The girl he was walking with is still beside him, and I furrow my brows, feeling slightly annoyed for some reason.

"Uhm, sorry," I say, trying to compose myself.

"It's fine," he replies, his voice sending shivers down my spine. Oh my gosh!

"Are you done with your exam?" he asks me.

"No, I-it's not my turn yet."

He turns his head to the girl beside him. "We'll catch up another time," he says.

"Okay, goodbye then, take care," she replies, looking slightly disappointed before walking away.

"Uhm..." I'm unsure what to say.

"I'll..." I start to say, but he interrupts.

"How's your mom doin'?" he asks.

"Uhm, she's fine, she's waiting for me. I'll be leaving now," I force a smile.

"I'll come with," he says, and my eyes widen in surprise. "I wanna say hi."