I remember when I was in university we had some of the best lecturers and some of the worst if you’d permit me to say so. To make matters worse our class of over three hundred and sixty students had tables and chairs that could conveniently sit about two hundred and fifty students.

That’s not all. There were few fans in the classroom and only some actually worked, so we had to device a method of fanning ourselves as we were cramped up like sardines being ‘microwaved’ for breakfast.
Yes, and we had to sign for attendance, though looking back now I really wondered how our lecturers were sure that we the students had actually achieved a 60% attendance, which was mandatory for all students to be eligible to sit for exams. Students being students some had devised a method for signing for their friends and quite frankly I believe our lecturers really did not know those who were in class and those who were not.

But then, that’s not the gist of the matter. One day our lecturer who was feared and revered by us all came to the class for a lecture and for the first time in history he had a scanty class. Boy was he furious. Interestingly I hear he actually taught the class, painstakingly took attendance and to add the cherry to his cake of spitefulness, he gave an assignment and fixed a pretty tight deadline.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in school that day – something had turned up and I had to go home and didn’t return until a few days later. Now, note that this wasn’t the time of GSM as it was popularly called then or mobile phones, so there was no way my colleagues could reach me to tell me about this new development.

Finally, I got things sorted at home and returned to school only to hear that the day I returned was the deadline the lecturer had set for submission. On hearing this, I went to the lecturer’s office and as soon as I mentioned the assignment trying to explain my plight, he turned all nasty and walked me out of his office. I tried to do the impossible – finish the assignment in time for submission but that totally failed. Firstly back then laptops were not common with students so we had to write out our assignments and then go to school or a business centre nearby to have it typed and printed. Secondly, out of anger, our lecturer had given an assignment that required a whole lot of research. So, long and short of the story, I didn’t have the assignment to submit.

It gets juicier! We were in the examination hall, seated and writing our exam for that subject when the lecturer burst in and declared that the assignment I was not able to submit carried thirty marks as he felt we – the students – had taken him for granted. As soon as he uttered those words I was shaken to my core and immediately started feeling unwell. I was actually shaking in the hall while writing my exams, but I prayed silently to God to vindicate me.

Now, I was a member of a fellowship on campus and I was the HOD of the ushering department. Everyone who knew me knew that I was ‘born again’ and of course they knew I was a very active member of the fellowship. Then something strange happened. I was approached by a senior student in school – perhaps he was a Masters student or young lecturer, I really don’t know, but what he said to me shocked me. He asked me to ‘settle’ him so that I would not have a carry-over. On hearing this a million thoughts were going through my mind. This was a core course for me and failing it meant not only a carryover but an extra year. On the other hand, the decision of the lecturer to make the assignment thirty per cent of our total score meant I had to contend with only seventy per cent. As the fellow spoke trying to convince me that ‘it wasn’t a big deal since some of my classmates had settled him’, I suddenly looked up at him (considering the fact that he was tall), I sincerely don’t know where the bravery came from, but I looked him in the eye and said ever so calmly that I will wait for my result.

It was a Friday so I had to go home for the weekend, but before I did I went down on my knees and prayed to God. I declared that one of two things must happen either I passed the course in flying colours or whatever it took he had to be removed from my way so I would make a case for submitting my assignment.

I remember confessing this over and over again to the point that my brother heard me and looking worried begged me to stop swearing for the guy. I simply replied that this was not my battle but God’s.
Fast forward to the release of our result, my heart was beating so hard, I could almost hear it and feel it. The closer I got to the board where results were pasted the louder my heartbeat. I waited for the crowd of students who had gathered to check their results to go, and then shivering I looked up the board for my matriculation number and I saw the greatest miracle – I not only passed, I scored a B. I looked up at the heavens and smiled. Indeed this battle was not mine, it was the Lord’s and as Jehovah El Sway, He came through for me in a mighty way that left me speechless.

Indeed, all things work together for good for those who love God.