How I Ended Up in Queen’s College, Lagos – A Story of Dreams, Determination, and a Mother’s Love

It was 1992. My father had passed just a few months before. Life had shifted in ways I couldn’t fully understand, but one thing remained constant—our ritual of watching NTA Newsline. The legendary Frank Olize had a way of making stories come alive, but that night, something else held me spellbound.

Bright young girls in crisp blue pinafores filled the screen—confident, brilliant, full of promise.

Without hesitation, I turned to my mother and said, “Mami, this is the secondary school I’m going to.”

She turned to me, startled. “Queen’s College, Lagos? All the way there?”

To her, QC wasn’t just far from home—it was for the elite, the daughters of Generals and Ministers. Girls from a world away. The kind of families who traveled for summer holidays or bought school shoes from Clarks on Oxford Street—those who never had to sit at a wooden table, scribbling and re-scribbling numbers, trying to make school fees fit into an already stretched budget.To her, QC wasn’t just far from home—it was for the elite, the daughters of Generals and Ministers. Girls from a world away. The kind of families who traveled for summer holidays or bought school shoes from Clarks on Oxford Street—those who never had to sit at a wooden table, scribbling and re-scribbling numbers, trying to make school fees fit into an already stretched budget.She wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t entirely right either. QC was a mix—yes, there were the privileged, but there were also girls like me, from homes where every naira was accounted for. And somehow, we all belonged.

Where did I expect her to start?

But I was resolute. I could already see myself in that blue pinafore, walking through those gates. And slowly, after some time, so did Mami.But I was resolute. I could already see myself in that blue pinafore, walking through those gates. And slowly, after some time, so did Mami.

So she did what mothers do—she fought for my dream.So she did what mothers do—she fought for my dream.

Twelve months later, against all odds, I stood in the very place I had once seen on the screen.Twelve months later, against all odds, I stood in the very place I had once seen on the screen.

If you know any girl, anywhere, who thinks her dreams are too far-fetched, too big, too beyond her—send her my way. I have stories to tell.If you know any girl, anywhere, who thinks her dreams are too far-fetched, too big, too beyond her—send her my way. I have stories to tell.

And to all our mothers, on this glorious Friday as we continue to celebrate Women's History Month and look forward to Mother's Day—may your love, sacrifices, and strength be rewarded in ways beyond measure. I pray that God blesses you abundantly today and always. ❤️And to all our mothers, on this glorious Friday as we continue to celebrate Women's History Month & look forward to Mother's Day—may your love, sacrifices, and strength be rewarded in ways beyond measure. I pray that God blesses you abundantly today and always. ❤️

(Attaching a picture of one of our old fee sheets, where Mami, with her handwritten calculations, tried to make a way where there was none.)