September 14 was a date I had circled on my calendar for weeks. It was the day I was supposed to take a step closer to my dreams. I was traveling to Asaba for an audition that could change my life. But life, as always, had its own plans.
The journey began smoothly enough, but delays turned everything upside down. By the time I arrived at Onitsha South, it was midnight. The streets were deserted, and the air carried a chill that cut through my thin clothing. I had no idea where to go or who to turn to. All I could do was find a spot to sit and wait out the night. The cold crept into my bones, and hunger gnawed at me, but I stayed put, shivering under the indifferent gaze of the stars.
As dawn broke, exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I had no time to dwell on it. This was my chance, my moment, and I couldn't afford to miss it. I freshened up as best as I could at the park and changed into the clothes I had carefully chosen for the day. The anticipation of the audition gave me a burst of energy, but my first hurdle was finding my way around a city I'd never been to before.
I called my uncle, who had agreed to help. He arrived after a while and directed me to a vehicle heading to Okpanam Road, where the audition venue was located. Finally, I thought, I was on the right track. But my relief was short-lived.
The conductor of the vehicle turned out to be a bully. "₦1,500," he said, eyeing my bag like it was an extra passenger. "₦1,200 is all I have," I replied, trying to stay calm. But he wasn't having it. His voice rose, drawing the attention of the other passengers. "If you can't pay, get out!" he barked. The tension in the vehicle was suffocating, and when he raised his hand as if to hit me, I stared back, defiant. "Do it," I said. "I have no more money to give."
A kind passenger finally intervened, offering to pay the balance. I muttered a shaky "thank you" as I sat down, clutching my bag on my lap like a shield. But even after all that, the driver didn't take me to my destination. I had to pay another ₦200 to reach Pinnacle, the audition venue.
By the time I arrived, the morning had already slipped away, and the sun hung high in the sky. My clothes clung to my skin, and my legs ached from the previous night's ordeal, but I refused to let fatigue or frustration show.
The audition hall was packed with hopefuls. The energy was electric, a mix of nerves, excitement, and determination. I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the stage when my turn finally came. The lights were bright, the judges' faces unreadable. I performed with all the passion I could muster, pouring my heart into every word, every gesture.
When I finished, the judges exchanged a few words before one of them said, "We'll get back to you." It was a phrase I'd heard too many times before, and I knew what it meant. Still, I nodded, thanked them, and left the stage.
The journey back to Abuja felt like a walk of shame. I was broke, tired, and disheartened. My savings were gone, spent on transport, food, and the basics I needed to survive the trip. I had even borrowed money to make it back. As I stepped off the bus in Abuja, I realized I was starting from scratch.
But as I stood there, weary but unbroken, I told myself, "Everything happens for a reason." Perhaps this wasn't my moment, but it wasn't the end of my journey either. My job in Abuja was still waiting for me, a reminder that I hadn't lost everything.
Life moves on, I reminded myself. As long as I had my work, my determination, and the lessons from this experience, I was still in the game. One step back, maybe, but always ready to take the next step forward.