AMINA

Chapter Four:

Days passed after Aisha’s visit, but her words refused to leave Amina’s mind.
Every night when the house grew silent, they returned like whispers:
“You can work and school at the same time, Amina. You just have to try.”

Amina would stare at the dark ceiling, thinking. She had always wanted to go further, to see what life looked like beyond Iguagi — but dreams like that belonged to other people.

People whose parents could afford it.
People who didn’t have to count every coin before buying soap.

Still, something inside her had woken up. She wanted more.

One morning, she asked her mother quietly, “Mama, what if I register for JAMB this year?”

Her mother looked at her like she had spoken a forbidden word.
“Amina, where will the money come from? Your father can barely feed this house.”

“I know,” Amina said softly. “But maybe I can work—”

“Work?” her mother cut her off. “Work where? You think life in this village is easy?”

That night, her father heard about it.
“JAMB? School?” he laughed bitterly. “Who told you a girl needs all that? You better find a man that will marry you before you grow old in my house.”

Amina didn’t reply. She just turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.

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The following weeks were heavy.
She tried to focus on her small hustles — washing clothes for neighbors, helping women fry akara — but Aisha’s voice wouldn’t leave her head.

So, one morning, with trembling hands, she took some of her savings and went to the town to ask about JAMB registration. She didn’t even know where to start.

The man at the café looked at her suspiciously.
“Are you sure you can pay?” he asked.

“I will,” she said. “Even if I pay small small.”

It took her almost three weeks to complete the payment, but she finally did. The day she got her registration slip, she held it like gold. For the first time, she felt like she had done something for herself.

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Months passed. She read at night with a borrowed textbook.
Sometimes her candle burnt out before midnight, but she’d still keep her eyes open in the dark, repeating everything she remembered.

When the JAMB result finally came out, her hands shook as she opened the paper.
She had passed.

But the journey didn’t end there.

She applied to the University of Lagos, just like Aisha.
Weeks turned to months, and each time she checked the admission list, it was the same answer: “Not Admitted Yet.”

Her father’s words became sharper.
“So? Did they take you? You see? I told you — women don’t belong in classrooms.”

After a while, even her mother stopped defending her.

Amina started to lose hope. She stopped checking the portal. She told herself maybe God had other plans.

Then one hot afternoon, while washing clothes behind the house, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Aisha.

> “Amina, check again. They just released another list!”

Her heart began to race. She ran to borrow her neighbor’s phone with data, opened the portal with shaking hands, and read the words she thought she’d never see:

> “Congratulations, Amina. You have been offered admission to the University of Lagos.”

She froze. For a moment, the whole world went silent.
Then she laughed — a deep, trembling laugh filled with tears.

That night, she sat outside, staring at the stars.
The air smelled of rain and firewood. For the first time, she didn’t just dream of leaving Iguagi — she knew she would.

To be continued.....

WRITTEN BY UMORU DANIELA JOHN