Chapter 8 The Test Fire

A Sudden Shift

By the time Faith reached SS2, she had built a name that echoed across the school's science block.

Lazarus Faith.

To the juniors, her name meant genius. To her classmates, it meant competition. Teachers often used her work as the standard. Her parents had grown used to the pride of seeing "1st Position" at the top of her result slips, and even her younger brother, now in Primary 3, would say things like, "I want to be like Faith."

It was automatic now first position, high grades, applause.

Until Blessing walked in.

A transfer student from a top private school in Lagos, Blessing wasn't loud, but her results were. SS2 First Term came and went like every other... but when results were released, something unexpected happened.

1st Position: Olamide Blessing.

2nd Position: Lazarus Faith.

Faith stood frozen in front of the notice board.

It wasn't the end of the world... but it felt like it.

How?

Was it a mistake?

Had she slacked without noticing?

Had Blessing outworked her?

For the first time in years, she felt small.

Frank her old academic rival from junior school sent her a brief text:

"You good. But even lions rest. Wake up, girl."

It wasn't an insult. It was a challenge.

And Faith accepted it without saying a word.

Faith Rises

Faith didn't cry.

She didn't argue.

She didn't even ask, "How did she beat me?"

She just nodded when her parents, who had seen her result before she even got home, encouraged her.

"It's not the end of the world," her father said.

"Even champions face setbacks," her mother added.

"This is just a taste of the challenges ahead in life."

Faith listened.

Then she quietly walked to her room, dropped her bag, sat on her bed, and thought.

She knew she had slacked.

Just a little.

But in a school like hers, a little was enough for someone else to shine.

So, she picked herself up again.

She changed her reading routine completely.

No more soft revision. She studied like someone with something to prove. She turned explanations into lessons for herself, teaching an invisible class at home. Formulas became friends. Diagrams became conversations. She stretched herself beyond her comfort zone.

Her classmates began to notice.

"Ah ah, Faith no dey gree breathe this term," one boy teased.

Even Blessing, the new girl, noticed. But she didn't panic. She was focused too.

Still, Faith wasn't chasing Blessing.

She was chasing the version of herself that forgot who she was.

The War Before WAEC

By the beginning of SS3, the school changed completely.

Fun disappeared.

Free time vanished.

Even conversations started sounding like revisions.

The pressure was loud and constant.

Mock exams, past questions, extra classes, external lesson centers...

Every SS3 student was now running a private marathon, and Faith was right at the front head low, focus high.

But if there was one good thing on her side, it was that she had already covered all her textbooks before SS3 even began.

JSS1 to SS2 every subject. Every page. Every topic. Faith had read them all during her scholarship years, when she studied like her younger brother's future depended on it.

So now?

Now, she revised.

But she revised like she hadn't read a thing before.

Every single line was reviewed again.

She made new notes from old ones.

She created diagrams from memory.

She explained Biology to herself like she was on TV.

She recited Chemistry equations like they were song lyrics.

She solved Maths like she was competing for a global award.

And still she was nervous.

Because this time, it wasn't about taking first position.

It wasn't about beating Blessing.

This time... it was about WAEC.

The big one.

The exam that determined everything.

And Faith had heard the stories scary ones.

Scripts that got missing.

Brilliant students who mysteriously failed.

Results that never came out.

She wasn't scared because she didn't know what she was doing she was scared because of what she couldn't control.

But even that didn't stop her.

One Friday evening, her teacher announced:

"WAEC starts in two weeks. You've done your part. Now go and show them who you are."

Faith smiled a little at those words.

Because really, who was she?

Not just a brilliant girl.

Not just the girl who had taken first position almost every term.

She was Lazarus Faith.

The one who rose.

The one who fought silently.

The one who studied not for claps but for clarity.

She thought of her parents.

Of her younger brother watching her.

Of every child from Harmony Primary School who might hear that she made it.

She was carrying more than a pen into that exam hall.

She was carrying responsibility.

When the WAEC exam began, everything changed.

The school gates were now watched by stern invigilators.

Desks were spaced wide.

Instructions were strict.

No one smiled anymore.

Faith walked into the first paper English Language and took a deep breath.

"You've read this before," she whispered to herself.

"You've done this a thousand times."

And with that, her pen began to move.

From one paper to the next, she gave it everything.

From comprehension to calculations, from essay writing to balancing equations she poured out years of preparation in three weeks of exams.

And Blessing?

She was strong too.

Quiet. Confident.

They never spoke during the period, but the respect between them was obvious.

Both girls were warriors. Just different kinds.

Then came the waiting.

The longest, slowest, most stressful part of any exam.

After WAEC ended, Faith traveled to Abuja to stay with her aunty for the holidays. It was supposed to be rest but how do you rest when your future is being decided behind closed doors?

Her aunt and cousins treated her like royalty.

She helped with cooking. Played with her little cousins. Even visited a few fun places around town.

But inside her, fear quietly lingered.

What if something went wrong?

What if a script got missing?

What if I fail?

These were thoughts she had never had before in her life.

This was new.

Because for the first time, her result was completely out of her hands.

One day, while sitting in the living room with her phone in hand, she got a message:

WAEC 202X RESULTS NOW AVAILABLE ONLINE.

Her heart dropped.

Her hands went cold.

Suddenly, she wasn't ready.

She waited an hour.

Then two.

She almost told her aunt to check it for her, but stopped.

If you've made it this far, Faith, she told herself, you can face this.

She opened the portal.

Typed in her details.

Clicked "Check Result."

And held her breath.

The screen loaded.

Slowly. Painfully.

Then

8 As. 1 B.

She froze.

Then screamed.

Her aunt rushed in, panicked. "What happened?!"

Faith held the phone in the air, tears falling freely now.

"I passed," she whispered.

"I passed everything."

They danced.

They prayed.

They called her parents who also screamed on the phone.

It wasn't just a result.

It was confirmation.

That all the nights she stayed up weren't wasted.

That all the sacrifices made by her parents meant something.

That every challenge, every rivalry, every failure she bounced back from led to this.

That night in Abuja, Faith lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

No fear.

No anxiety.

Just peace.

She had crossed another river.

And the next chapter was waiting.

But for now?

She let herself breathe.

She let herself rest.

She let herself believe fully, finally, joyfully that she had done well.

The Gift of the Gap

The long holiday rolled on like a soft wind.

WAEC was behind her.

SS3 had been closed like an old chapter.

And for the first time in a long time, Faith wasn't waking up to alarms, assignments, or mock exam tension.

She was free but not idle.

After her return from Abuja in early September, her parents gave her just two weeks to rest. Two weeks of sleep, laughter, and food. Two weeks of not opening any textbooks. Of just being.

But by the third week, her mother came into her room with folded arms and a knowing smile.

"Holiday is long," she said gently, "but it's not forever. What skill will you learn before January?"

Faith had already thought about it.

Her WAEC result had boosted her confidence, yes but her vision had also sharpened. She knew university life was coming. And in university, students needed more than just brains.

They needed side income.

They needed communication skills.

They needed something extra.

So, Faith chose something that didn't involve a sewing machine or makeup kits.

She chose the pen the same thing she'd always trusted.

She enrolled in a nearby training center for creative writing and spoken English.

At first, people around her didn't understand.

"Writing? Are you sure that one can fetch money?"

But Faith knew something many didn't: the real world ran on words.

Essays. Applications. Presentations. Job interviews. Speeches. Reports. Blogs. Business content.

Even those with degrees still paid others to write for them.

She figured: If I can sharpen this gift now, I can help others and earn from it.

So, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, she dressed up and headed for her lessons.

There, she was taught:How to write essays with impact

How to craft a compelling story

The rules of grammar that most students ignored

The power of public speaking and fluent expression

And how to teach others what she had learned

She paid attention to every lesson like it was another WAEC paper.

And very quickly, she stood out.

Her tutor once asked, "Who taught you how to write this clearly?"

Faith smiled and replied softly, "Life."

By mid-November, Faith had started helping younger students in the neighborhood writing application letters for seniors, coaching juniors for BECE, and even preparing content for a youth program in church.

She didn't collect much just small "thank yous" and tokens.

But it wasn't about the money.

It was about the preparation.

When she gets to the university, she plans to create a simple brand maybe "Faith Writes" or something catchy and begin offering writing help to students who struggle. From course assignments to project editing, she would be ready.

It would be her little source of income.

Her way of helping.

Her way of staying sharp.

By December, her parents had taken notice.

"You're really not like other girls your age," her dad once said, watching her scribble something on the dining table. "You think far. You plan well."

Faith didn't say much in return.

She just nodded, flipped her notebook, and continued writing.

Because in truth, she wasn't writing for applause.

She was writing her future.

One word at a time.

December was festive decorations, firecrackers, sweet rice and meat, church concerts.

But in between it all, Faith didn't lose sight.

She balanced celebration with study.

Joy with journaling.

Sleep with strategy.

Her goal?

To enter January not lost, not wondering what to do but ready.

Ready to register for JAMB.

Ready to score high.

Ready to claim her space in a federal university.

Ready to start a new story, not as a secondary school girl anymore, but as a young woman with a pen, a plan, and purpose.