Chapter 2 Before the wall

Before the walls. Before the beatings. Before betrayal and bloodshed, there was a time when everything felt simple.

Peter Campbell-my name carried weight at Mercer Comprehensive College. I hadn't set out to be popular; I just wanted a high school experience that felt a little different. I couldn't say exactly what I was hoping for, but whatever it was, it started to feel like things were finally falling into place. And honestly, I didn't want it to end.

I was well-known around the school. The principal often called me to the podium to inspire other students. I represented the school in academic competitions and usually returned with trophies and medals. Many students admired me, though not everyone did. Some couldn't hide their envy, and others were simply bitter because the girls they liked always seemed drawn to me without me even trying.

School life was exciting. I was smart, and I had a face that made me look approachable, even cute, as the girls would often say. I was friendly to everyone, never turning down a chance to connect or help someone out.

I didn't have a steady girlfriend. I didn't need to. Girls liked being around me, and I liked the company. I didn't care what their boyfriends or admirers thought. One of the advantages of being a "charming nerd," I guess. I'm not bragging-okay, maybe just a little.

But then came the breakthrough that changed everything.

While my father and grandfather had struggled endlessly just to get into university, I was awarded a scholarship-a full scholarship-to Berrocks University, one of the most elite institutions in the country. It felt like a dream. A miracle. An answered prayer that broke through generations of disappointment.

The moment I held that acceptance letter, I couldn't stop smiling. I ran home to tell my parents. My mom cried. My dad just sat in silence for a while, then stood up and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. They told everyone they knew. My schoolmates cheered like it was their own victory. It felt like the whole world was proud of me.

Berrocks University wasn't just any school-it was built for the wealthy, the powerful, the children of senators and CEOs. And here I was, a boy from a modest home in Lagos, earning my seat at the table not through connections but through hard work and grace.

Preparations started immediately. My parents did everything they could to make sure I was ready. My father even picked up extra shifts, working longer hours, trying to save just a little more to make sure I'd be okay.

I told them not to worry-the scholarship would cover my needs. But my dad wasn't just thinking about money.

"I know what I'm saying, son," he told me one evening, his eyes tired but firm. "You're about to step into the real world. It's nothing like what you know here. And we don't want you getting lost in it."

He wasn't talking about getting physically lost. He meant morally. Mentally. Spiritually.

I nodded, and for the first time, I truly understood the weight of their fears.

The men in my family had all started strong-my grandfather, a brilliant student, who never got to become the surgeon he dreamed of being. My father, too, with his exceptional grades, who ended up driving buses because the system failed him. And now me.

I refused to follow that path.

I was determined to be the one who would break the cycle.

Before I left, my parents sat me down for a heart-to-heart conversation-one I'll never forget.

"Peter," my mom said softly, "you're going to a place where people live very differently from us. Don't forget who you are. Don't try to fit in so badly that you lose yourself. Be cautious. And if you ever need anything, no matter what, just call us."

My dad leaned forward, his voice low and steady. "You heard your grandfather's story before he passed. You know how life can turn. I wasn't always a bus driver, son. I had dreams too. But I underestimated the world. I thought being smart was enough. It wasn't."

He paused, then added, "People will test you. They'll try to drag you down, maybe even embarrass you. But never forget where you come from. Be proud of your roots. Don't try to impress anyone by pretending to be someone else. Let them see the real Peter."

I looked them both in the eyes and promised, "Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad. I'll never let you down. I'll always make you proud. And I'll never bring shame to our name."

My dad smiled gently and said, "I know, son. May God be with you."

The next morning, we packed my bags into my father's bus, and I stood for a long moment just staring at our house-our little home that had given me so much.

I was stepping into a new world. I had seen only one side of life until now. I could only hope the other side wasn't too dark.

I carefully loaded all my bags into the bus, double-checking everything to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. The moment had finally come-time to leave home. My dad climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, the low rumble breaking the heavy silence around us.

I turned to my mom. She was holding back tears, her face saying everything her words couldn't.

"Mom, you knew this day would come," I said, pulling her into a hug. "So why the waterworks now?"

She chuckled softly through her tears. "I know, I know... but I just can't help it."

Trying to ease the moment, I smiled and said, "If you keep this up, I'll end up crying too, and people will think someone died."

She laughed, wiping her eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much, son."

"I'll miss you too, Mama," I said, holding her close for one last moment. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

She nodded, whispering, "Make us proud."

With that, I stepped into the bus and closed the door behind me. Dad drove off, the house growing smaller in the rearview mirror as we began our journey.