HEDGED
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Episode 2
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Tricia and I met in school. It was one of those awkward times in the life of a “broke” university student. It was in my 500-level second semester.
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I’d been kicked out of class in the middle of an exam because I couldn’t show a receipt for my school fees.
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They’d been threatening to do this for months, and only a week before, the very same instructor who’d just pulled me outside in the middle of this highly significant examination had made a commitment with everything he held dear to make sure he stood up to these threats.
He did eventually.
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That day, I missed the brunt of the exam. It took God’s unique mercy for me not to have “carried that course over.”
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Tricia was among those who had the good fortune to have had an early education. She graduated at the age of 18.
Tricia was already serving when we met. She had been assigned to serve at my school.
Tricia worked in the administration department.
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I lingered, hoping to speak with the instructor who’d thrown me out of the classroom. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to him, but I knew I had to say something—anything.
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Missing that exam meant a carry-over. Missing the exam meant having to return to school for another year, which meant another year of having Mama Source pay for school expenses.
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Distractions were unnecessary in my course of study. It wouldn’t let me do a side “hassle” to raise funds (at least not if I wanted to graduate with the kind of result I was hoping for). So it was all on Mama.
Mama had never complained about being fatigued in response to my demands. Even if it takes weeks for a single request to be fulfilled, it always is.
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I’d been standing there for perhaps fifteen minutes, expecting to catch this lecturer on his way out of class, when Tricia came walking by.
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Nobody needed to be told that I wasn’t feeling good. You’d believe my entire existence was crashing right in front of my eyes with just one look at my face in that split second.
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The fact is that I felt like my entire life was disintegrating in front of my eyes at the time.
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Tricia had most likely chanted to me incessantly, unanswered, because I returned to “self-awareness” after feeling her tap on my shoulder.
Tricia inquired as to what the matter was. She inquired as to why I appeared disoriented.
Tricia waited for my reaction to her queries with genuine concern in her eyes.
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At first, I felt bothered by this “small girl,” whom I mistook for a “fresher.”
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“This young lady has no comprehension of the difficulties that await her at this institution.” As I surveyed Tricia with my eyes, I thought to myself.
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Mama’s continual prayers were undoubtedly effective that day, as Tricia refused to give up on me. She didn’t, until I eventually told her what was wrong.
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Tricia sighed deeply. She surprisingly apologized for everything, and shortly thereafter, after what seemed like a split second of drifting away in deep, quick thoughts, Tricia requested that I give her a second.
Tricia reached for her phone and dialed a number.
Tricia was still on the phone with the person on the other end of the line when she asked me for basic personal information.
Tricia thanked the individual and said, “We’ll be on our way now.”
I was perplexed since I had no idea what had just happened.
Tricia proceeded to explain.
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Tricia had a connection in the school’s IT department. This contact is familiar enough with the system’s functions to print me a school fee receipt. The best part was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about payback. This generally costs approximately half as much as regular school tuition, but Tricia asked me not to bother.
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My ears couldn’t believe what they were hearing. It sounded too beautiful to be true.
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“This kind of thoughtful gesture for a complete stranger?” “How often does something like this happen?” “What if all of it was a lie just to disperse Tricia?” “What if I were a covert police officer who simply had to play a position of distress to make this discovery?” “Why would someone risk so much for a complete stranger?” I thought to myself.
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I didn’t have time to be overwhelmed by it all, even if I wanted to.
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We dashed down to the IT guy’s office, and I was soon sprinting back to the exam hall, clutching my school tuition receipt.
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I returned to class with only thirty minutes left on the examination clock. It was plenty for me—more than enough time for an A.
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I’d been so caught up in everything that day that I’d forgotten to get Tricia’s phone number.
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After my examinations, I realized I needed to appreciate this “God sent” when I discovered I didn’t have the means to.
I’d told Mama everything about Tricia (excluding the part about manipulating the system), and she’d needed to thank and pray for her as well, but Tricia was nowhere to be found.
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I had to go back to the IT guy’s office in order to obtain Tricia’s phone number. Tricia and I met again in person a few days later and have been inseparable ever since.
To be continued…
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Moshood Avidiime The Writer
