Dreams do come true

CHAPTER FOUR

Ahana

I curse as the WiFi acts crazy. Sitting in front of my personal laptop with my earphones plugged in, with less than a minute before the commencement of the Bankit Zoom call, this is the worst possible time for me not to have Internet access. I cast a desperate look at my office environment and will the noise stop, but of course that will be impossible.

At 4pm, it is peak time at the bank and, even though I have only one more week left there, the last thing I need is an audience for this call with the executives of the organization giving me the scholarship and, indeed, the chance of a lifetime.

Making the last minute decision I grab my personal laptop and dash into the small meeting room adjacent to my desk, locking the door behind me for good measure. By the time I log in using the earlier shared credentials, it is already two minutes past 4pm.

My heart races as I stare at the boxes of each of the 28 attendees, many of whom have their cameras switched off and microphones muted. Five of the boxes with their cameras switched on show pleasant-faced people who, if the Bankit logo used as their respective backgrounds is anything to go by, are executives of the scholarship organization.

A black woman, who looks to be about the same age as me, is talking animatedly and I have to keep myself from continuing to stare at the names on the boxes of the other attendees so I can pay attention to what she is saying.

“Before I go on, I think it’ll be a nice idea for us to turn on our cameras, so that we can get to know each other better,” the woman suggests, a bright smile on her face. “With all of you headed to schools all across the world, this might be the only time our class of 2020 will be on the same call, so it’ll be nice to place some faces behind the names we’ve been corresponding with all these months.”

My heart skips a beat at the prospect of turning on my camera. Patting my curly hair, I run my tongue across my teeth to make sure there is no recalcitrant residue from the meal of chicharron I’ve just had for lunch. I linger for a few seconds, waiting to see if the other people on the call will also not be eager to turn on their cameras, but as their images start to appear one by one, I have no choice but to turn mine on as well.

“Fantastic!” she lsays. “It’s so great to see all your faces. Later in this call, we’ll all get the chance to introduce ourselves. For those who missed my introduction earlier, my name is Elena. Also, if you have any questions, you can send them through the chat box or wait till I’m done with my presentation.”

I stare back at the screen, not quite sure what to do with my face. The fact I am visible to all these strangers is making my heart race a mile a minute. If there is one thing I don't like, it’s being in the spotlight.

I listen as Elena talks about the Bankit scholarship and it being an opportunity to broaden our respective horizons, with unlimited opportunities at our fingertips. As she reiterates how their focus is on the wellbeing of future leaders being well equipped, evidenced by their various student loans and different tiers of scholarships, I start to relax, delighted that I am the beneficiary of one of their most robust scholarships; full tuition and board.

She continues to talk for another fifteen minutes before she calls on three panellists, all of whom have benefitted from the Bankit scholarships, and I listen with rapt attention as they each talk about their experience and how the scholarship changed their lives. I am particularly interested in the only woman among the three, the one who schooled in the United Kingdom, curious about how easy it was for her to remain there when her program was over.

But curious though I might be, I am not brave enough to type my question in the chat box, worried the other people on the call would think it stupid. And that is the last thing I want to be labelled, not especially when I am doing more than enough self-deprecation already.“Join me,” Elena says, when the spotlight returns to her, “as I welcome the Fall intake of 2023. After the introduction by the Fall intake students, three beneficiaries who have spent more than a year in their respective schools will share brief tips on making the best of this amazing Bankit opportunity.” She smiles. “It’s a tradition and I hope you learn a thing or two, or even make new friends.”

She squints and I wipe sweaty palms on my skirt, willing her not to call me first. My inner voice is screaming at me to look away from my screen, but with my heightened nerves, I remain rooted to the spot, wide eyes staring back at my screen.

“Can we start with you, urm… ” she leans forward to squint as if trying to read the name in focus better. “Ahana?”

Shit

Swallowing hard, I force a smile and wave. “Hi, I’m Ahana” I swallow again in a desperate bid to banish the quiver from my voice. Why on earth am I so nervous when most of the faces I see look way younger than me? Taking a deep breath, I go on. “I… I’ve been accepted as an M.Sc. student at Middlesex University, studying Banking in global scale.It’s an honour to be one of the selected few for the class of 2023.”

I exhale as I mute my microphone, glad to have gotten it over and done with. But even though my microphone is now muted, my heart is still beating so fast, I am certain the throb at the centre of my neck is visible to all.“Hi, I’m Berwa from Kenya, studying at Savannah University,” comes the voice of a pretty girl with glossy dark skin. “My course of study is… ”

“Sorry to cut you short,” Elena says, the spotlight returning to her. “Can we circle back to Ahana?”

My eyes widen as my anxiety skyrockets again. Goodness, isn’t she done with me?

“Where are you from please?” she asks, smiling at her screen.

I manage a weak smile back. “I’m from Nanuvurt.” I add for emphasis.

“Thank you,” she says, looking confused and nodding, but I'm not going to offer further explanation.

“Please proceed, Berwa.”

The Kenyan girl finishes her introduction and is quickly followed by a Nigerian girl.“Hi. I am Enitan Adebayo, from Nigeria. I’m in for a Masters in Film at The Empire Film School, London.”. The Nigeria movie industry is growing, and I want to be a driving force.”

My concentration starts to wane as the introductions continue. The call is already taking longer than I’d expected and I know it is only a matter of time before my Manager starts to look for me. With all the work he has been heaping on me since I tendered my notice, it’s like he is trying to extract from me every morsel of productivity he possibly can.

My ears perk up when I hear someone mention she’ll be schooling in East London. Her name is Eve and she says she’ll be studying for an MA in French at the University of East London. I am tempted to send her a private message, to ask if we can meet up when I get to London.

“I am from Nigeria,” Eve continues, her voice steady and her gaze self-assured. “Born and bred in Lagos State. It’s nice to meet you all.”

I immediately cower, no longer confident enough to reach out to her. She looks like a posh girl, the kind I have felt inferior to pretty much my whole life. The last thing I need is to be shunned by any body. Nah, it’s best to let her, and indeed any of the other London-bound students, be. Thank God I have Aput over there. I’ll be okay.

With all the introductions done, Elena introduces three students from the class of 2022,who have already spent a year in their different schools on the Bankit program, asking them to each share some advice for the new intakes.

I hardly listen to the first two, Khalid and Grace, as they drone on about how wonderful the program is. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I’ve heard more than enough about how amazing and fantastic the Bankit scholarship is. Glancing at my watch, I am tempted to sneak out of the call. With only 24 people now on it, I see a few people have already done just that. But when the third student, Jamila, starts to speak, something in her sonorous, refined tone piques my interest.

“Hello, I’m Amma Abeo, MA International Economics, Savannah University. You’ll experience a lot on this journey, but, no matter what, it’s good to know there’s a village cheering you on. On the serious side though, it’s never too late to apply for internships or jobs.”

Finally, someone with real talk and not sugar coated rambling. I look at her and even though she isn’t smiling, her eyes are dancing like they hold some kind of secret. I desperately want to hear everything she has experienced in her one year but, again, I am too scared to type anything in the chat box. I make a mental note to look her up on G****e, just to see what I’ll find.

“Feel free to reach out to me if you have any issues,” Grace, says, grinning. “I always know someone that knows someone.”I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Indeed!

Thankfully, the call soon ends and I rush back to my desk, hopeful I haven’t been missed. But as I try to return my attention to the work I have left on my table, I am tingling all over. Even with my fees paid, my living expenses transferred, and my one-way ticket already purchased, the whole thing has still seemed surreal, almost like it is one long dream I will soon awake from. But this call, this call where I have seen the faces and heard the voices of not only the people who have made this happen, but other beneficiaries like me, has made it so very real.

And I am beside myself with excitement!