Not everybody gets a happy ending.

Giving some false hopes or leading them into something doesn’t fit in my moral compass.

I won’t sugarcoat it: you were invisible to me for two years in university. I didn’t notice you, and I doubt we even spoke. I was wrapped up in my own world — crude, arrogant, and somewhat foul-mouthed.

I thought highly of myself and felt that university was a club of mediocrity, a waste of my time. I still hold some of that belief.

Everything changed in the third year. I fell seriously ill; my liver was on the brink of failure. Poor health habits led me there. The pain was unbearable, and I often wished for it to end. The news of my condition spread through our class WhatsApp group, and you reached out, asking if I needed help with schoolwork. Desperate, I said yes. I would take any help I could get.

You stepped up and completed almost 65% of my assignments and project work. The rest, I distributed among others. I also had backlog subjects that I needed to pass to advance to the next year. I remember you confessing that you didn’t want to enter the final year without me. It seemed odd, but I let it slide. You even told me you were fasting as a devotion to God so that I would pass all my subjects without issues. And I did. I don’t know why you cared, especially when I was sick with liver issues. I was immature, but you still saw something in me. Believe it or not, I wouldn’t have graduated without you.