The applause was still ringing in my ears long after everyone had settled down. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was truly being seen — not for the mistakes I made in the past, but for the effort I had put into changing.
I walked back to my seat feeling proud… but also scared. That moment — that applause — it felt like a finish line. But deep down, I knew it was just the beginning.
The next day, everything felt different. People greeted me with respect. A few even nodded at me like I was suddenly some kind of role model. But with their new respect came a pressure I hadn't expected — the pressure to stay consistent.
During break, some of my old friends came around, joking loudly and trying to drag me into gossip about a classmate. Normally, I'd join in without thinking. But now… something stopped me. I remembered Tope's words:
"Change isn't about big speeches. It's about small choices. Daily."
I laughed awkwardly, shook my head, and walked away. They stared at me, confused. One of them even scoffed, "So you're better than us now, huh?"
I didn't reply. But it hurt more than I thought it would.
Later that day, Tope caught up with me outside the science lab.
"You didn't join them," she said simply.
I nodded. "Didn't feel right."
She smiled a little. "Good. But don't expect them to clap for you every time. You're not changing for them."
Her words hit deep. I realized I had started expecting recognition. Applause. Praise. But real change… it's quiet. It's lonely. It's doing the right thing even when no one is watching.
That evening, I sat alone in my dorm, reflecting. The hardest part about becoming someone new… is letting go of who you used to be — even when that old version still tries to pull you back.
And that was when it hit me:
The test isn't about how loud the applause is.
It's about who you are when the clapping stops.