Let me share something with you. The photo was taken in 2011 in Lilongwe. I had come to rewrite a subject for my Diploma which I failed on the first attempt. In the photo, it’s my friend Gift Nyirenda (to the right) and myself.

Before you proceed, here is what was supposed to be the last paragraph of this post, read it first:

+— My friend was waiting for me, we left for the bus depot and before leaving each other, we took this photo. I will never forget this day. I was in tears the whole trip back to Blantyre. I wish they had told me the truth so I wouldn’t bother to come to Lilongwe for the humiliation—+

What happened?

My school history is a sad one. My brother lost his job after I wrote JCE in 2006 and the whole of 2009 he was jobless. Due to financial circumstances, I was unable to attend form 3 at an institution. I self taught myself the whole year by reading and practicing with friends who went to school.

In 2008, he got a job and told me he was ready to pay for me at Rose Garden in Chirimba. He asked me to repeat form 3 as I had spent the whole year at home. I told him I would proceed to form 4 because I wasn’t sure his job would be permanent and I didn’t want to bother him that much. He understood.

I went to school that year and those who knew me at Rose Garden can testify that I loved school. I was a day scholar, but each day, I was usually the last to leave the premises. At home, I woke up each night at 12 and studied until morning. We wrote MSCE and I was among the top 5 best performing students.

Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful at both UNIMA and MZUNI when I sat for entry exams. There was literally no money to send me to a decent college so I ended up in Dowa at these “Wakula Watha” type of colleges which only operated for 2 to 3 years as I gather. It was called African College of Theology and Management (ACTM) although there was nothing theological at the school and it was unaccredited, but it’s what we could manage.

Boarding was at K60,000 per semester at the college, but we could not afford so I rented a kitchen from a primary school teacher which I shared with a friend to split the rent, K300 per month. Stayed there for a month or so and moved to another location where I was joined by more other poor friends.

When I wrote exams for the ABMA Diploma, I went back to Blantyre and a few months later, results were out. I failed one subject, Public Relations and the certificate could not be issued. At the same time, my brother had lost his job, again. That’s the time I took matters into my own hands.

I started piece works and a few businesses that included selling drinks and boiled eggs at Kameza Roundabout stage and a seasonal job in Mwanza selling fertilizer. I raised enough funds to re-write my subject and I paid the school which was facilitating everything.

Time for writing exams approached, it also came at a point where I had no money so I sold my Nokia 1110 phone to travel to Lilongwe from Blantyre. I had spoken to my school and according theo assurance, everything was fine. They advised me to be at the venue in good time. I told them I would not disappoint them.

My friend welcomed me at the bus depot in Lilongwe to sleep at his place. We were writing exams the following day at Baptist Hall in area 14. I went to the venue in the morning and met with officials to be allocated space, but unfortunately, my name was not among the people writing exams.

The teachers from that Wakula Watha college had eaten my exams money. They never paid anything to ABMA. They knew, but did not tell me.

You read the last paragraph.