Daddy, I got into university.”
“What is this?”
“You didn’t ask, so I wanted to surprise you.”
“You can’t go to university, Grace. A woman’s education ends in the kitchen.”
“Look at her, still selling peanuts. No degree for you. Bye, peanut seller.”
Grace Johnson did not scream when she saw the envelope. She just stood there at the gate, staring at her name as if it might disappear at any moment.
“Madam, will you collect it or not?” the postman said impatiently.
She quickly took it from him. “Thank you. Thank you, sir.”
Her hands were shaking as she walked back inside. Her mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner.
“Mummy,” her voice came out low at first, then louder, “Mummy, come and see this.”
Mrs. Johnson wiped her hands on her wrapper and hurried out. “What is it?”
Grace couldn’t even speak. She simply handed her the envelope.
Her mother read it once, then again. Then her eyes widened.
“Grace!”
“I got it, Mummy,” Grace said, her voice breaking. “I got admission.”
“For real?”
Grace nodded quickly. “University of Lagos.”
Mrs. Johnson pulled her into a tight hug. “God has done it. God has done it.”
Grace laughed and cried at the same time. “I told you, Mummy. I told you I would make it.”
Not long after, Deborah Williams, her friend, rushed into the compound without knocking.
“Grace, is it true?”
Grace turned, smiling through tears. “We’re going to Lagos.”
Deborah screamed and grabbed her. “I got mine too.”
The two of them jumped and held each other. “We made it. We actually made it.”
From the doorway, Mr. Johnson stood watching with a hardened expression.
“So this is what all this noise is about,” he said.
Grace turned and said excitedly, “Daddy, I got admission.”
But Mr. Johnson said nothing. He only nodded once and walked away.
That night, Grace could not sleep. She placed the letter beside her pillow, touching it from time to time just to be sure it was still there.
“This is my life,” she whispered to herself. “Nobody will take it from me.”
But sometime in the night, her door opened quietly.
