By Seth Akande
A Chinese proverbs says learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere. Ten years ago, I was at the top of my class. I was a smart student within and outside the four walls of the classroom. I was full of enthusiasm, always ready to be at the top, the Lecturer’s favourite.
I gained admission to study at the University at the age of seventeen. I scored 356 in my post UTME. I was the candidate with the highest score. The high mark earned me a scholarship to study at one of the prestigious universities in Nigeria.
I had next to no time for frivolities and unproductive engagements. From school to my house and some extra curricular activities. I was a member of the institution’s Press Club. I also joined the creative writers’ club.
In my department, there was a girl named Mary. She was my rival in terms of academics. Nevertheless, she was a good friend of mine, and we topped the class always.
At the final lap of the academic calendar, we resumed for classes. It dawned on all students that no one else but I would champion the graduating set. My previous results were distinctions. I already had a CGPA of 4.85. What else could go wrong? Nothing, I told myself.
Soon it was time for the final examinations. I had prepared pretty well for the examinations. Burning the midnight candle was not a new phenomenon to me. I had visited the library to devour books and read voraciously. If a student could be over prepared, I was more than prepared to ace the examination.
With a smile on my face, I went into the examination hall. I smiled all through and wrote my exam with an inexplicable enthusiasm. In fact, the questions were much simpler than I expected.
I was the first to submit the answer booklet. Instead of the recommended two hours thirty minutes, I answered the selected questions in an hour.
The invigilator was quite amazed. I signed out on the attendance slip before bouncing out of the classroom. Off I went to the cafeteria. I had not eaten that day. I ordered a large plate of fried rice and salad with chicken lap. I stepped it down with a chilled bottle of five alive drink.
I finished my exams with the assurance that there was nothing else but A. I was more than certain that I would jump up when the results would be released.
When it was time to check the results, I was not perturbed. A lot of students were in tears already. I did not rush to check the results like the others. I knew I could not fail any of my examinations. The last paper was the simplest of all.
That morning, I decided to go to school to check the results just to fulfill all righteousness. As I walked down the hallway, a classmate ran over to me and asked if I had seen the results pasted on the board.
I replied him in the negative, but I was cut short by the look on his face. Fear? Pity? Why would he pity me? Maybe he has checked his results and he did not do well, I thought. Immediately, I dismissed the look, telling myself it was not directed at me. He told me to take heart. I laughed and asked him why I had to do so.
I did not allow him to respond before I told him that I was certain I aced my exams.
Off, I went to the board to check. Lo and behold, I was shocked at what laid before me. I had an F in one of the courses. That was an automatic extra year. I was stupefied. I could not utter a word. I staggered like a drunk man. I felt a dull throbbing sensation in my head as if a powerful force had hit me with a cudgel.
What I saw was beyond my expectation. I had never had an F. Not even a C all these years. “How did this happen? What could have happened? Was this a mistake? What exactly could have gone wrong? All these and many more were the questions running through my head at that moment. I failed the last examination I sat for. How?
I raced to the department and told the lecturer. Dr Ogunbodede told me the matter would be sorted out if there was any error. I waited outside his office for about thirty minutes. He came out and told me there was no error. Another shocking news.
Eventually, I called for my scripts to be remarked. I was in for another shocking news. Apparently, when my scripts were to be remarked, it was discovered that I had flaunted the instructions given by the lecturer. My impetuousness landed my in trouble.
The instruction had warned that out of the six questions, we were to answer only three questions. It was also noted that question four was compulsory. The lecturer had also warned that students who answered more than three questions would receive large deductions from the overall score. I was guilty as charged. I should have answered the compulsory question four with any other two questions.
I could not explain how I misunderstood or misinterpreted the instruction. I answered four questions. I answered four questions. And to complete my misfortune, I selected questions one, two, five, and six.
This rang in my head. It was a costly mistake, and I was to pay dearly for it. My lack of patience brought trouble my way. The results could not be recalled because I disregarded the instructions. I bent my head in shame. I could not help the tears that trickled down my face. If I could turn back the hands of time, I would gladly do that. That was the first time such would happen to me, and I learnt my lessons.
It was an experience I would never forget in a hurry. Later in life, as the memories of that event hit me, I learnt to heed to instructions. Well, I came back for the course, and this time around, I aced it. Even though it’s been almost three decades since that incident, I have always recounted the experience to anyone who cares to listen. It was a learning experience for me, and because learning never exhausts the mind, I never fail to tell my children to learn from my grievous mistake.
Many would have given up if they were in my shoes. But I owned up to my mistake. I took responsibility. I was accountable for myself. Despite that momentary delay, it was not a denial for me. I own a company with branches in more than fifteen states in the country. My company is also putting plans in place to extend to the overseas.
Remember to learn from your mistakes, and the thing beautiful about learning is that nobody can take it away from you.