True Life Experience.
It happened to me.
“I PAID WAEC FEES FOR A BOY I BARELY KNEW, 10 YEARS LATER, HE WALKED INTO THE INTERVIEW ROOM HOLDING MY DESTINY”
THE BOY AT MY GATE:
I was teaching at a small public school in Ibadan. One evening after school, I found a boy at my gate, quiet, nervous and holding a torn exercise book.
“Aunty please, I heard you help students. My WAEC form deadline is tomorrow. My mother is sick. Please, just help me write the exam.”
I didn’t know his name. Never taught him but something in his honesty touched me. The form was ₦19,500. I had only ₦21,000 in my account.
I paid for it. He thanked me and disappeared.
LIFE MOVED ON
Years passed. I forgot his name. Life got harder. I lost my teaching job. My mother died. I moved to Lagos to start over.
I applied to companies, handed out my CVs and begged for small contracts. Finally, I got an interview at a multinational company.
One chance. I dressed my best. I prayed harder than ever.
THE MAN IN THE CHAIR:
When I entered the interview room, the HR assistant told me:
“The final decision will come from our new Regional Director. He’s young but brilliant.”
I nodded, nervously.
Then the door opened. He walked in.
Tall. Confident. Well dressed.
He looked at me… and froze.
“Excuse me… were you once a teacher in Ibadan?”
I blinked.
“Yes. Government Secondary School.”
He smiled — eyes suddenly glassy.
“You paid for my WAEC.”
THE DESTINY HE RETURNED
He paused the interview.
Told everyone in the room:
“I am who I am because one woman saw me as more than just a poor boy.”
“I owe her my entire career.”
Then he turned to me and said:
“This job is yours. But more than that, you have a seat at any table I sit at — for life.”
EPILOGUE – THE BOY WHO BECAME A BRIDGE
Today, I work in that company. Not just as staff but as a board advisor on youth outreach.
He started a scholarship in my name. I now mentor girls from villages across Nigeria.
Sometimes, he still calls me Aunty Teacher and whenever I see him in suits & ties, I remember that day he stood at my gate, holding a torn book.
And I realize…
God was testing me with a seed. And I almost missed the forest it would grow.
“Kindness is a seed — it always finds its way back to the giver.”