THE MATRIC

She was running late!

It was her matriculation day. A day of new beginnings and exciting adventures. But looking at her, there was no sign of joy on her face as she waited in the taxi that would transport her from Naraguta hostel to Main Camp. She couldn't experience any delight. The entire process was too tedious and time-consuming.

From registration to screening, hostel accommodations, and matric gown rentals. She was quite exhausted. She had not slept a complete night in the last week. She just wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep all day. At least the procedure was coming to an end.

What a relief!

She checked her wristwatch; it was 7:45 a.m. The programme was scheduled to begin at 8:00 a.m. She wished the taxi driver could go faster but there was traffic congestion on the road leading to Main Camp due to the matriculation.

She groaned and peered out the taxi window to see what Jos city looked like. She hadn't had time to explore the city since her arrival a week earlier.

She'd been too busy.

Jos, the capital of Plateau State, was magnificent. It is well-known for its cool weather, which results from its location on a plateau, as well as its abundance of fruits and vegetables. It's a city that you can't miss in Nigeria.

As a Nigerian, she'd always wanted to visit Jos. The opportunity arose when she selected the University of Jos as her first choice in her JAMB registration, and she was accepted immediately due to her high JAMB score.

Her second choice was the University of Abuja, but she did not want to study there because it was too close to home. Her family lives in Nigeria's capital, Abuja. They could simply take a taxi to see her whenever they wanted.

No, she did not want that. She wanted to be on her own so she could have some independence from her family.

Her phone began to ring in her bag, so she unlocked the zipper and pulled it out. Her mother was calling. She rolled her eyes as she considered whether or not to pick it.

Since she left home, her mother could not go three hours without phoning her, even at night when she was sleeping.

She had no reservations about conversing with her mother; it was the length of the conversation that tired her out. The pattern was consistent: if she ate, what she ate, where she was going, how she planned to get there, if she prayed before leaving, and if she had her bible in her bag.

The phone would then be given to her father, who would order her to read her book, not to stay out late, and to avoid bad friends. Her father was tough and blunt; he stated his intentions and followed through on them.

The phone would afterwards be passed to her younger sister, Esther, who would inquired about university life. The height of the structures, the size of the halls, and whether the girls were allowed to wear short skirts.

She realized she had no choice but to answer the phone or deal with her mother's missed calls and messages all day long.

"Hello mum, good morning ma," she said after answering the phone.

"My Lawyer's Miracle! My Barrister Miracle! My Lordship Miracle!" Her enthusiastic voice shrieked down the line.

Mum will appoint me as a judge even before I finish my Matric. She thought to herself, rolling her eyes once more.

"Yes mum, how was your night?"

"Oh! It was fine, sweetheart, and I had a dream that something spectacular will happen in your life today.

"Yes, mum," she responded, extending her neck out the taxi window to see why the traffic had stopped moving. "Something exciting is already happening in my life; today is my Matric. My first step towards becoming a lawyer in the next six or seven years."

"Don't be silly," she chuckled. "I am serious, Mira; I can feel it in my belly. Something life-changing will happen to you today. Please keep your eyes and heart open, dear."

"Okay, mum. I need to go." She announced, noticing the traffic moving again. "I can see the University gate up ahead."

"Are you making a call on public transport? In an unknown city? Phone snatchers are everywhere!" She was now screeching. "Miracle, Keji Jacobs! You know better!"

"Yes, yes, mum. I know, and that's why I have to leave now. Say Hello to Dad and Esther. I'll chat to you later; I love you! Bye!"

Mira hurriedly moved to end the call. She could hear her mother shouting on the other end, "Wait! Your father wants to talk_."

She hastily hit the end button before being lured into another chat with her father, followed by her sister.

The taxi was almost at the main campus gate when Mira began packing her belongings. She stuffed her matriculation cap into her bag and held it in her right hand. She then carried her robe in the crook of her left arm, keeping her phone in her left hand.

The taxi driver was hunting for a spot to park when Mira heard her phone make the sound of an incoming message; she checked it, and it was her mum again:

I hope you ate and prayed this morning. And you should also remember to have your Bible with you everywhere you go. You could read it when you're not so busy. As your Lordship pleases!

Love you. Mum.

She rolled her eyes again as the taxi driver found a parking spot and she prepared to exit. It seemed like all she had done since leaving home was roll her eyes at her mother's theatrics.

She understood her joy; Mira was her first daughter and child. Her parents instilled in her an burning need to study law and become a Barrister from an early age.

Their dream was slowly becoming a reality. They will finally have a legal degree in the family. Mira got out of the taxi, paid the driver, looked at her wristwatch, and realized she was 20 minutes late.

She groaned, placed her phone back in her bag, zipped it, and began walking swiftly to the main campus gate. Regardless of how dramatic, her mother was, she was correct about the city. Mira was still in an unfamiliar environment, and it wouldn't be appropriate to brandish her phone. She didn't have enough money to buy a new one right now.

There were JAMBites everywhere, some holding their gowns, some proudly wearing theirs. In Nigeria, new university intakes are referred to as JAMBites. Nobody likes the name because it reflects how young and inexperienced they are, but they accept it, eagerly waiting for the next year to call new students the same name.

Mira was also a JAMBite, but she was no longer naive. Her parents had ensured that.

The JAMBites had reason to be pleased, as the University of Jos was one of Nigeria's oldest and most famous universities. Great men and women from around the world had passed through her. People come from everywhere just to educate in her.

She was truly a school to be proud of. And to get admitted into such a prestigious university was an absolute thrill.

Mira looked left and right at the old buildings that were part of the school's history and heritage as she made her way to the matriculation venue.

She wanted to walk faster, but her stilettos were starting to hurt her. Mira looked at her feet in dismay as she walked on, wondering why she hadn't packed a more comfortable pair of shoes in her bag.

She was coaxed into buying the shoe the day before by the salesperson, who convinced her that stilettos were the best for her matric because they would boost her confidence. She'd believed. She now wondered how confident she'd be after standing all day in stilettos.

Her feet ached by the time she arrived at the site. People were everywhere, including JAMBites and their relatives, who had come to celebrate with them. Lecturers, professors, and supporters.

Everywhere was filled up.

Mira noticed a large crowd at the entrance to the hall where the programme was being held. She approached a guy standing in the crowd who had his back to her.

"Hello, excuse me please." She spoke to his back, he turned, and Mira realized that her stilettos made her taller than him, causing her to look down at him and him to look up at her, literally.

At the very least, the excruciating stilettos flattered her petite physique. She was never taller than anyone, save children. Her sister described her as 'down to earth'.

Good morning. What is going on, please? Why is there so many people outside?"

Oh!" He replied, staring at the crowd as if he was seeing them for the first time, "The hall is full, so we are standing out here hoping we can at least hear what's being said inside".

"Okay, thanks," she responded, turning away. She'd have to find somewhere to sit and rest her aching feet; whatever was going on inside could wait a while.

Mira finally found a large root to sit on under an ancient-looking tree. She was tempted to take off her stilettos, but she had never liked putting her bare feet on unclean soil.

She'd just have to wait here until the event ended and then take some photos to send home to her family. Her mother would love to frame some of them. Then she'd return to the hostel and sleep for the rest of the day.

She just couldn't wait.

Her phone rang again in her bag, the ringing ended before she could get it out. Mira recognized her best friend Sara from home. She and Sara attended the same primary and secondary school in Abuja. They even lived in the same neighborhood. They'd been great friends since they were little.

Sara was also accepted into a school in the East the same year, but her school was on strike, so she couldn't begin her registration procedure.

Mira smiled, Sara call always pleased her. She was the only person Mira could be honest with, no matter what the scenario was. You couldn't lie to Sara; she'd detect it right away. Her middle name should have been 'practical and observant.' She was Mira's go-to person.

Sara would only call once, not twice or three times. Just once. Regardless of how crucial the call is.

That always annoyed Mira.

Some JAMBites joined her under the tree, looking for a place to sit; they were also tired of standing around. Mira dialed Sara back and held the phone to her ear.

Then she heard voices...