The sun rose differently that Monday.
Even the birds seemed quieter, like they knew something important was happening.
It was examination week.
No more rehearsals. No more chances to procrastinate. The real test was here — and this time, it wasn't just about grades. It was about growth, discipline, and the chance to win the competition.
Each morning, the school compound buzzed with tension. Students huddled in last-minute revision circles. Some whispered formulas. Others mouthed definitions under their breath.
I walked into the exam hall with my heart pounding. Tope caught up with me.
"You ready?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "But I came prepared."
She smiled. "That's what matters."
The supervisor walked in. Papers were handed out. The clock started ticking.
It was just me, the pen, and the questions.
There were moments I froze, moments I second-guessed everything. But then I'd take a breath, remember Tope's words, and push forward.
Each subject brought its own battle. Physics was tough. English was a little better. Mathematics… well, I gave it everything I had.
In between papers, I'd find quiet corners to revise. Tope and I would share snacks and flashcards, checking in on each other with tired smiles.
By Thursday, our bodies were exhausted, but our spirits were stronger than ever.
On the final day of exams, as we handed in our last scripts, the entire hall exhaled in unison.
We had made it.
No more questions. No more late-night cramming.
Now, all we could do was wait.
But deep inside, I knew this examination wasn't just about academics.
It was a test of focus.
Of change.
Of belief.
And maybe, just maybe… I had passed more than one kind of test.