Writers 
A Life Still Being Written
Some pages are chosen. Others are written for us.
My name is Amal.
If I were asked to describe myself in a few words, I would probably say that I am a quiet and gentle person who is still learning about life, about myself, and about the person I am becoming.
I have always been that way. Even as a child, I was quiet and gentle. People often said I was brilliant, although they would also add that I was a little lazy. Honestly, I could not completely disagree with them. I sometimes needed to be told what to do before I would actually get up and do it.
There were, however, some things I never needed much encouragement to do. I had always been good at Tahfiz and Arabic. From a young age, the Qur'an became an important part of my life, and I always dreamed of becoming a Hafidhah. I wanted to carry the words of Allah in my heart, not merely memorize them with my tongue. I also had a strong passion for wearing the niqab, and it was something I hoped would become part of my life someday.
My childhood was filled with little memories that have remained with me over the years. I remember when my parents travelled for Hajj and left my siblings and me with our aunt. I remember being away from them and knowing that they had travelled for something so important.
I also remember the day I got my head stuck between the bars of a gate. Looking back, it is one of those childhood memories that makes me wonder how I managed to get myself into such a situation. It is funny now, but I am sure it was not funny at the time.
I have always shared a special bond with my father. Growing up, I often felt like I was his favourite child, and that feeling of being especially loved meant a lot to me.
When I was in primary school, I wanted to become a pilot. I loved the idea of flying and travelling to different places. As I grew older, however, I began to feel that becoming a pilot was not a realistic path for me, so I let that dream go.
I did not stop dreaming. I simply found another dream.
Then came Primary Five, and the world around me changed.
The COVID-19 outbreak disrupted almost everything. Schools were affected, routines changed, and life suddenly felt different. Around the same period, Nigeria was also experiencing the End SARS protests. I was still young, but those events became part of the memories of my childhood.
When I entered JSS1, my journey did not begin as smoothly as I would have liked. I did not pass my entrance examination. My stomach was hurting badly during the examination, and instead of taking the test as seriously as I should have, I intentionally shaded answers that I knew were wrong. Somehow, despite that, I was still admitted into JSS1.
Perhaps that was one of my earliest lessons that a bad beginning does not always determine the ending.
As the years passed, I became more serious about my education. By JSS3, I went to the hostel for an extension programme because we were preparing for our BECE and NECO examinations. I worked hard, and by Allah's mercy, I passed both examinations with distinction.
At the time, I thought I was simply completing another stage of my education. Little did I know that my JSS3 graduation would be my last time in that school.
I did not want to leave.
I had friends there, memories there, and, most importantly, my best friend. But sometimes, life presents you with circumstances you cannot control. My parents decided that I had to change schools because the fees had become too expensive.
Leaving was difficult. I had to say goodbye to a place that had become such an important part of my life, and I had to leave my best friend behind.
Before starting SS1, I attended summer classes to prepare myself for the science class. I knew science would require serious effort, and I wanted to be prepared.
In SS1, I came third in my class, while I topped my Arabic class. SS2 was similar. I continued to perform well academically, but I still had that desire inside me to improve. I wanted to prove to myself that I could achieve more.
By SS3, I had become the Assistant Head Girl.
Sometimes I think about the little girl I used to be—the quiet child who needed to be told what to do—and I smile when I realize how much I had changed. I was now trusted with responsibility and expected to lead others.
When graduation finally came, I became the third overall best graduating student. I also received awards for being the best in Geography and Tahfiz.
Those achievements meant a lot to me, but they also reminded me of something important: I had not reached that point by myself. There were my parents, my teachers, my friends, and, above all, Allah, who had made every step possible.
My education was not the only thing changing during those years.
Somewhere along the way, my heart became involved too.
His name was Muhammad.
At first, I did not particularly like him. I could not understand why so many people seemed fascinated by him. To me, he was simply another person in my life. I even gave him a ridiculous nickname because of the way he behaved.
But sometimes, the people we least expect slowly become the people we think about the most.
Muhammad noticed that I was brilliant, and over time, we became friends. We started talking online, and what began as ordinary conversations gradually became something deeper. Without realizing it, he became one of my closest friends.
There were days when we talked constantly, and eventually, I realized that feelings had entered the picture.
He had developed feelings for me too.
Knowing that made everything more complicated. I was conscious of my faith and the boundaries I had been taught to respect. I knew that having feelings was one thing, but how I chose to deal with those feelings was another.
I wanted to remain conscious of Allah even when my heart was confused.
There were still moments that became precious memories: receiving a chocolate, getting a lollipop, taking pictures together, meeting someone from his family, and having my Qur'an recitation shared with others. They may seem like small things, but sometimes small moments leave the deepest impressions.
Eventually, Muhammad returned to his hometown, and our communication changed.
We no longer talked the way we used to, and I found myself missing the friendship we had built. I was sad and confused. I wondered whether I had done something wrong or whether he simply no longer cared as much as he once had.
Later, he explained that he had genuinely been busy. There were also things between us that had not been completely resolved.
That period taught me that caring about someone does not mean everything will always remain the same. People change. Circumstances change. Communication changes. Sometimes, even when two people care about each other, they can still misunderstand one another.
Through it all, I tried to remind myself that Allah knows what I do not know. If something is meant for me, it will reach me, and if it is not, then perhaps Allah is protecting me from something I cannot yet see.
Then came another major chapter of my education: my SSCE examinations.
When my WAEC result was released, I had passed all my subjects except Mathematics, in which I received a D7. There had been an incident during the Mathematics examination involving malpractice among some of my classmates, and it affected the situation for everyone involved. My father requested a review of my script, and now I am waiting for WAEC's feedback.
I am also waiting for my NECO result.
At the same time, I am preparing for JUPEB.
It feels strange sometimes, standing between everything I have already experienced and everything I am still hoping to achieve.
The little girl who once dreamed of becoming a pilot now dreams of becoming a doctor.
The girl who was once described as lazy became an Assistant Head Girl.
The girl who wanted to become a Hafidhah still carries that dream in her heart.
The student who wanted to top her class learned that success is not always about being number one.
The girl who never expected love to become part of her story learned that the heart can be both beautiful and complicated.
And the Muslim girl who has experienced uncertainty continues to learn the importance of patience, prayer, tawakkul, and trusting Allah's plan.
I do not know what my future holds.
I do not know what WAEC's response will be. I do not know what my NECO result will look like. I do not know where JUPEB will take me, whether I will achieve my dream of becoming a doctor, or what will happen with the people who have become important parts of my life.
But perhaps I do not need to know everything yet.
Allah already knows the pages I have not reached.
Maybe that is why I can breathe, pray, and keep moving forward.
My life has not been perfect. I have made mistakes, experienced disappointment, celebrated achievements, formed friendships, lost people, developed feelings, questioned myself, and learned lessons I never expected to learn.
But I am grateful for every part of the journey.
Because every experience has shaped me.
Every difficult moment has taught me patience.
Every achievement has taught me gratitude.
Every goodbye has taught me that nothing in this world is permanent.
And every unanswered question has taught me to trust Allah a little more.
I am still dreaming.
I am still learning.
I am still praying.
I am still becoming.
I do not know what is written on the next page of my life, but I know Who holds the pen.
And perhaps that is enough.
My story is not finished.
There are still dreams to chase, prayers to make, lessons to learn, and pages waiting to be filled.
This is not the end.
It is simply a life still being written.
Author's Note
Some parts of this story have been fictionalized, including the names and certain details. Although the characters are fictional, the emotions, lessons, dreams, and experiences explored in these pages are inspired by real life.
