MY UNIVERSITY DIARY: FIRST EXAMS IN SCHOOL

The frustrations we went through in Level 100… e no be easy. I will never forget my very first university exam. Academic Writing. A compulsory course for all Level 100 students. One rule on the exam notice stood out like a threat written in bold ink:
If you arrive 15 minutes after the exam starts, you will not be allowed to write.

That sentence alone was enough to turn grown students into runners. On the timetable, index numbers were arranged in ranges and assigned to venues. Mine was clearly written: NNB. Just 15 minutes’ walk from Akuafo Hall. Simple. Safe. Straightforward. At least, that’s what I believed.

On exam day, I left my room one hour early. Not because it was far-but because first-year anxiety does not respect distance. Campus felt different that morning. Even the air felt like it was watching students suffer quietly. I reached NNB early, heart already beating like I was late.

I entered the first room.

No index number.

Second room.

Still nothing.

Third room.

Same result.

At that point, logic quietly left me. Instead of asking anyone, I ran back to Akuafo Hall like the answer was hiding in my room. I stood in front of the notice board again, staring at “NNB” like it had personally betrayed me. I even checked it again… and again… just to be sure it hadn’t changed its mind.

NNB was still NNB.

So I ran back.

This time faster.

NNB was full-students, invigilators, papers, tension everywhere-but my index number was nowhere to be found. That was when I finally swallowed my pride and asked an invigilator. He checked the list. Then calmly said:

“You are not here. Your venue is JQB Room 23.”

For a second, I just blinked.

JQB.

It sounded like somewhere you need visa to enter.

And then I ran.

Not normal running. The kind of running where your brain stops talking and your legs start praying. NNB to JQB is not a road. It is a negotiation with uphill suffering. Halfway, I met people running in the opposite direction-faces tight, breathing loud. We all looked at each other like, so you too? At that point I realised something: nobody really knows what they are doing. We are all just guessing with speed. I joined another runner and almost begged him with my breath: “Bro… please… help me… I can’t die alone in this hill.” He held my hand and increased speed. Unfortunately, my lungs did not agree with his ambition.

By the time I reached JQB, I was already finished. I climbed those long stairs like someone paying debt. Sweating. Gasping. Spirit somewhere behind me. I entered the room and scanned quickly. The invigilator looked at me and said calmly:

“This is not your venue.”

Silence.

Just silence.

That was the moment I understood that life can actually joke with you in real time.

I had run all the way… only to be wrong again.

I turned back.

Back to NNB.

At that point, I wasn’t even running anymore. I was just moving out of respect for time.When I finally got to NNB, the exam had already started. I pleaded. I explained. I begged with full university sincerity.

Eventually, they gave me a seat.

I held my pen… but my body was still somewhere on that road between NNB and JQB. My hands were shaking like I had just survived something I didn’t fully understand. The questions were there, but my calm was not. It took several minutes before I could even write a full sentence.

And when I finally settled, the exam had already taken something from me-confidence, time, and dignity I didn’t know I was carrying. When results came… I was not surprised. I knew I would see that paper again.

LESSONS LEARNT

That day taught me something simple but painful. Sometimes, effort is not enough if direction is wrong. I ran like my life depended on it but I ran in circles.

I also learned that in unfamiliar systems, pride is expensive. One simple question at the right time could have saved me from becoming an accidental marathon runner.

And maybe the biggest lesson was this:

Just because people are running in a direction does not mean they are right. Some are confused. Some are guessing. Some are just as lost as you.

So don’t just follow movement. Follow clarity. Because sometimes in life, it is not about running faster.

It is about making sure you are not running in the wrong direction with confidence.

Author: Samiha Sulleyman