BORROWED TIME
Written by Eze Favour Ebubechukwu
(Group 3)
CHARACTERS:
TOLA — A university student. Smart enough to know better. Human enough to keep putting it off.
MR. ADE — Her lecturer. Direct. Measured. A man who has watched
this story play out too many times.
STUDENTS — Background classmates. Present, focused, and — in Tola's worst moments — a mirror.
SCENE 1 — INT. TOLA'S BEDROOM — NIGHT
Shot 1 — Wide Shot
The room is warm and lived-in. Clothes draped over a chair. A half- eaten snack on the nightstand. A poster on the wall that reads something motivational — ironic, given what is happening below it.
TOLA lies on her bed, phone held above her face, bathed in its blue-white glow. Beside her, stacked like a quiet accusation, sit her textbooks. Untouched. Spines uncracked.
A wall clock ticks in the background. Steady. Patient.
FADE IN:
Tola scrolls. Laughs softly at something on screen. Scrolls again. She glances — just for a moment — at the books.
Then back at the phone.
TOLA
(to herself, settling deeper into the pillow)
Tomorrow. I'll actually do it tomorrow.
She pulls her blanket up with one hand, phone still in the other.
The clock ticks on.
SCENE 2 — INT. TOLA'S BEDROOM — CONTINUOUS
Shot 2 — Close-Up Insert: Phone Screen
The screen fills the frame.
A notification banner drops from the top:
Study for Test — 9:00 PM
A beat. The reminder sits there, waiting. Tola's thumb enters frame.
She swipes it away.
No hesitation. No pause. Gone.
The screen returns to whatever she was watching. The clock ticks.
SCENE 3 — INT. UNIVERSITY CLASSROOM — DAY
Shot 3 — Wide Shot
Fluorescent light. Rows of students. The low shuffle of notebooks
being opened.
MR. ADE stands at the front of the room, one hand resting on the podium. He speaks with the calm authority of a man who has no interest in repeating himself.
MR. ADE
The examination is this Monday. I won't be adjusting the scope. I won't be accepting late submissions. And I won't be hearing that you didn't have enough time.
A ripple of unease moves through the class. Some students
straighten up. Pens start moving faster.
Tola sits near the middle. She's nodding — the performance of attention — but her eyes are soft, unfocused. Unconcerned.
She doodles something in the margin of her notebook. Monday feels far away.
SCENE 4 — INT. TOLA'S BEDROOM — NIGHT
Shot 4 — Medium Shot
The laptop screen glows. A streaming service. Episode four of something. Or five. She's lost count.
Tola is curled up, fully committed to the story on screen — the one that is not her coursework.
The wall clock is visible over her shoulder. The hour hand has
moved. Significantly.
She reaches for her phone, glances at the time —
— then puts it face-down.
(quietly, to no one)
Just one more. Then I'll start.
Tick.
She presses play.
TOLA
Tick.
The episode begins.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
SCENE 5 — INT. UNIVERSITY EXAM HALL — DAY
Shot 5 — Wide Shot
Monday.
The hall is hushed in that particular way only exam rooms are — a silence made of concentration, not peace.
Students fill every seat. Heads down. Pens moving. The scratch of biros against paper — a sound that means prepared.
Tola sits among them. Her pen is in her hand.
She is not writing.
She looks down at the question paper in front of her. INSERT — QUESTION PAPER:
Question 1: Explain in detail…
The rest of the sentence blurs.
She reads it again. Then again.
Tick.
Her pen hovers.
Tick.
Nothing comes.
SCENE 6 — INT. EXAM HALL — CONTINUOUS
Shot 6 — Extreme Close-Up: Clock Face and Question Paper
The frame is divided by time and consequence.
Above: the exam hall clock. The second hand sweeps. Unfeeling. Mechanical. Each movement a small, irreversible loss.
Below: the white expanse of Tola's unanswered paper. Not a single word written.
TICK.
TICK.
TICK.
SCENE 7 — INT. EXAM HALL — CONTINUOUS
Shot 7 — Close-Up: Tola's Face
Sweat at her temple. Eyes wide and searching the middle distance for something that isn't there.
And then — the voices begin. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just hers. Her own voice, layered over itself, echoing the way a regret does.
TOLA (V.O.)
(her own voice, fragmented, repeating)
I'll start tomorrow... just one episode... I'll read tomorrow... just one more...
The words loop. Overlap. Grow slightly louder with each pass. Her jaw tightens.
Her breathing — shallow now, audible.
She looks back down at the paper.
Still blank.
SCENE 8 — INT. EXAM HALL / DREAM SPACE — CONTINUOUS
Shot 8 — Extreme Close-Up: Wall Clock — 2:00 AM Visual Effect
The image distorts.
The clock face fills the entire frame — but it's wrong. The numbers seem to shift. The hands move faster than they should. The ticking is no longer rhythmic; it's layered, overlapping, pressing in.
This is the inside of Tola's mind. The accumulated weight of every dismissed alarm. Every "tomorrow." Every "just one more episode."
All of it, arriving at once.
(barely a whisper)
I don't know what to write.
A beat.
Then — silence.
The ticking stops.
TOLA
SCENE 9 — INT. TOLA'S BEDROOM — MORNING
Shot 9 — Wide Shot
TOLA lurches upright in bed.
She sits there, chest heaving, hair disheveled. For a moment she doesn't move — just breathes and remembers where she is.
Her bedroom. Morning. Sunlight pressing through the curtains in
warm, forgiving angles.
She looks at the clock.
She looks at her books.
They are exactly where they have always been. Waiting. Still
offering her something.
Something shifts in her face — not guilt, not panic. Something quieter and more determined than both.
She reaches out.
She opens the first book.
Soft, understated music begins — not triumphant, just present. A small, private turning point.
The sunlight finds the open page.
(softly, to herself)
Okay.
She picks up her pen.
She begins.
THE END

Storyboard illustrative description
Group 3 Members
1. Iman Aiyeola Oluwatofunmi 240902287
2. Oni Ifeoluwa Christiana 240902326
3. Joseph Elizabeth Oluwabukunmi 240902266
4. Yaovi Mawusi Sijuola 240902345
5. Ejiofor Precious Oluwadolapo 252102544
6. Jemilugba Bisola Deborah 240902275
7: Okaria Chinenye Jecinta 252102541
8. Eze Favour Ebubechukwu 240902306
9. Oluwatuyi Oluwatunmise Emmanuel 240902248
