A girl told me, “That was the moment I nearly broke down and started crying.” And I understood. I understood. I understand.
This is not a bedside story. I wanted to tell you this story. But now I can’t. All I know is that a girl said to me, “That was the moment I nearly broke down and started crying,” and the first time she told me I did not understand. I did not know what she was talking about. Now I know. Girl, I’m so near there now.
You said you stood at the transcript clearing office at Makerere University Senate Building in near tears, back again here in vain, because the woman who had told you your transcript was ready had deliberately omitted to tell you that it would take 2 days to really get your hands on it. You had come miles and miles, spent the last of the borrowed money you had on you, knowing you were going back home to faces beaming with joy to see it and now you were not. So, “That was the moment I nearly broke down and started crying.”
You have your transcript now. Your first class degree with honours is clearly and boldly indicated and to protect that precious white document you have more faith in than the yellowing paged Bible gathering dust on the coffee table in the sitting room, you have had your transcript in translucent paper sealed against the water and sun and the ravages of time, you hope. You’re happy, now. But your words have remained with me, you saying, “That was the moment I nearly broke down and started crying,” because I know now.
I understand when you say, “That was the moment I nearly broke down and started crying.” I understand. I know.
PS: I May Be Leaving Blogger Soon.