One Man, One Street, One Journey, One Dream...

Becoming More Than Average

Nobody Has Two Heads

Till age 9, I always thought people who did exploits had two heads. I mean it literally.

This is a personal story of young love, comparison, discovery, and how ambition was born in me.

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Primary School Days: Fear & Handwriting

My story of realization started in Primary 1. I was about five years old (started schooling pretty early). New class, new people, new teachers.

Weeks rolled into months, and I was still enjoying the vibe until one afternoon Aunty Rose (as I still call her) pulled me aside. She told me point blank: if I didn’t improve my handwriting and my grades, she would demote me.

Mehn, I was scared stiff. What would I tell momsii? She already thought I was doing fine, not knowing I was barely above average. She was hustling to pay our fees while popsii had traveled abroad for “greener pastures” — and the pastures were not exactly greening. Momsii was footing almost everything, and being a disciplinarian who never had the privilege of higher education, she was determined that her kids would. So failure? Not an option.

Worse still, her shop was right in front of the school. She sold clothes, bags, shoes, basically accessories. And every day Aunty Rose passed there on her way home. Anytime she stopped to greet momsii, my heart would race. I’d try to distract momsii so she wouldn’t notice her, or I’d just pray: “God, please, one more day without her reporting me.” One fateful evening, Aunty Rose finally stopped at the shop. My chest tightened. I just resigned myself to the beating I knew was waiting for me at home. To my surprise, momsii was smiling when Aunty Rose left. They hadn’t talked about my poor performance. Omo, “elephant commot for my chest” that day.

Eventually, my handwriting improved a little, and academically, I started floating. Still, I can’t forget the smell of Aunty Rose’s perfume — even now, my heart races at the memory.

fine boy duties😂

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The Average Boy & The Crush

Fast forward to Primary 6. I was the unofficial leader of the “average students clique.”

If play was human, it was me.

• Bottle cover football? I was there.

• Biro soccer league? I was there.

• Paperball with magnets? I was there.

• Fire & ice, catcha catcha? I was there.

I was the type who finished his lunch pack before assembly. Long break at 11:30 was my favorite time of day — 30 full minutes of play. Life was simple, and I miss those days.

But two small events happened that later changed my life.

Our school had two classes: Honour and Peace. Honour was for the average guys, with a sprinkle of bright ones. Peace was for the elites — the real scholars. Among them was a girl. A Muslim, fair-skinned, neat uniform, long socks, pimples that somehow looked fine on her face, an accent like she wasn’t born in Naija. One of her parents was a doctor.

She was far above my league, and I admired her quietly. But then, Common Entrance mock results came out. I scored 23/60 in Maths. She had 60/60.

Her teacher paraded her in our class, basically saying: “She is just like you. She doesn’t have two heads ooo.”

My self-esteem nosedived. Talking to her was now impossible. In my mind, she really did have two heads.

p.s : i was feeling flyyyyyy on this day

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The Spark of Ambition

At the valedictory service of my elder sister (she was in JSS3 then), she was awarded 2nd overall best. My younger sister too was awarded the same. Me? Nothing. I was standing there empty-handed when one woman walked up to me:

“You have to work harder o. You’re a boy. Can’t you see your sisters?”

I just fake-smiled and said yes ma, but deep down that cut me. Looking back now, that comment probably planted the burning motivation I needed.

Then life took another turn. By JSS1, finances tightened. Momsii moved me and my siblings to another school in Ipaja. The old one was better, but omo, you manage what you can afford.

When I resumed at the new school, I decided: no more “average guy.” I wanted to be known for excellence. First day, I tried socializing — no luck. Everybody seemed cold. Then I met Pascal (my gee for life). I asked him, “Who’s the best student here?” He pointed at one guy, Temi. “Forget it, nobody can beat him.” I told myself silently: “Watch me.” I knew that by chance, if I ever saw my Primary 6 crush again, I had to be a different person.

That was the start of ambition for me. By JSS2, I was grinding. I’d read after school until 9pm, sleep, then wake up at 2 or 3am to study until 6am. I kept this routine all through secondary school. Results followed:

• JSS2: 2nd overall best.

• JSS3: overall best.

• SS1 to SS3: overall best + best in sciences. Scholar type shiii.
  

  

  

  
  valedictorian type shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

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JAMB Hustle & The Big Payoff

Now here’s the twist. In SS3, during a random convo, momsii told me about a boy who scored 310 in JAMB. She said something like, “If he can do it, you can too.” I told her flat out: “No o, he must have two heads.”

But destiny had its own plans. When it was my turn to write JAMB, my elder sis (the one 2 years ahead of me) was also preparing again. She wanted Medicine and Surgery, but JAMB had humbled her before. We took the JAMB mock exam in 2022: I scored 250, she scored 238. We looked at each other and realized we knew nothing. With 2 weeks left, we locked in: 9am–11pm every day. I still remember the smell of the “The Life Changer” book we read because I opened it just two days before the exam and it was very new. I’ve never been a fan of storybooks. It became healthy competition. Lamlad Chemistry suffered in our hands.

p.s: my sis and i

Exam day came. Rain beat us mercilessly, no danfo in sight. We trekked until my clothes were soaked and my exam slip tore. By the time I got to my center, shivering, hands wrinkled from water, they delayed us until 11am before letting us in. I still wrote.

Finally got in around 11am. Wrote. Came home. Watched TV like nothing happened.

Days later, I sent “UTME” to 55019. After multiple failed attempts, my result finally loaded:
“ Dear Emmanuel Abimbola Ogundiya, Reg Number :************

Your 2022 UTME Result : ENG:**, MAT:**, PHY:**, CHE:**, Aggregate: 323 ”

Brooooooooooo. I had the highest JAMB score in Alimosho LGA. Suddenly, everybody was proud. My classmates gisted about it in school. My crush (a fellow scholar) even hugged me in front of everyone. Former teachers started remembering my name. Even news reached my old school. One day on my way to momsii’s shop, I passed by my primary school and guess who I saw? My old crush, the one with 60/60. She waved at me and called my name. She knew me? Omo, I just smiled, waved with composure, and kept walking. 😂

p.s: graduation picture with some of my gees

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Reflections

Looking back, these events may seem small, but they made me.

• I’ve learned that your only limitation is the one you place on yourself.

• I’ve learned that greatness, in any form, demands sleepless nights, grit, and tons of work.

• I’ve learned never to settle for any conceived reality of less

  And present me would tell past me this: “Push it hard, Bimbo. Don’t give up, for the rate of success isn’t measured by mere grace but by patience and sacrifice.”

  my first time competing in an hackathon and winning…

  

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Today

I’m in my 4th year studying Chemical Engineering at Lagos State University. I’ve won three scholarships and one hackathon.

My elder sis is now in her 3rd year of Medicine and Surgery at Osun State University, Momsii’s dream becoming a reality one child at a time

As for me? I’m Abimbola Diya. One man, One Street, one journey, one dream.

A legend in the making.

Because at the end of the day, nobody has two heads. Greatness has only one.