Episode 4: School, Stress, and Sudden Realizations
The days had started to blend together — a continuous loop of school, job hunting, and the weight of being in a foreign country. The initial rush of excitement had faded, and now I was left with the harsh reality of balancing academics with the pressures of daily life. Every morning, I woke up feeling exhausted, as if the burden of my struggles was already too much for me to bear.
University life was demanding, and while I had always been a diligent student back home, the workload here was far more intense. I was in a completely new environment, with expectations much higher than I had anticipated. Professors were strict, deadlines were unforgiving, and the level of competition was fierce. Everyone around me seemed to be effortlessly excelling, and I felt like I was constantly playing catch-up.
I had to learn to manage my time better. Classes were often scheduled back-to-back, leaving me with little time to breathe between them. I found myself running from one lecture to the next, struggling to keep up with readings, assignments, and the never-ending cycle of studying. When I wasn’t in class, I was at the library, trying to make up for the work I had fallen behind on.
But there was something else weighing on me: the stress of finding a job. The financial pressure was mounting, and I was starting to feel like I couldn’t keep up with it all. Every time I received a rejection email, it felt like a punch to the gut. I was working harder than I ever had, but the results didn’t seem to match the effort. The thought of calling home and asking for money kept me up at night. How could I explain that I was struggling when everyone back home believed that my move to the UK would lead to success?
Then came the realization.
I had been so focused on surviving, on making ends meet, that I had lost sight of why I came here in the first place. When I left Nigeria, it was with the dream of building something greater — to earn an education that would change my life. But now, all I seemed to care about was getting through the day. I had allowed the weight of my problems to cloud my purpose.
One evening, as I sat in the library, buried in textbooks, I had a moment of clarity. I had been so focused on the immediate challenges — the lack of money, the job rejections, the loneliness — that I had forgotten what brought me here in the first place. This wasn’t just about surviving. It was about thriving. I needed to reconnect with the reason I came here.
I closed my textbook for a moment and took a deep breath. The UK wasn’t just a place for me to find a job or to escape from Nigeria. It was a chance to grow, to learn, and to become something more than I had been back home. But in order to do that, I needed to let go of the constant anxiety and embrace the journey. I needed to stop trying to control everything and trust that things would work out in their own time.
I took a step back and reminded myself that everyone’s journey was different. My classmates, most of whom had grown up in the UK, were facing their own struggles, even if they didn’t seem as apparent to me. I was not the only one feeling overwhelmed or uncertain. This was the reality of being in a foreign country — it was never going to be easy. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of handling it. I had made it this far, hadn’t I?
As I thought more about it, I realized that I was not alone in this struggle. There were others at the university who were going through similar experiences, international students like myself, far from home and dealing with the same pressures. I decided to reach out to a few of them. We set up regular meetups — simple gatherings at the student union where we could share stories, swap tips on surviving life in the UK, and support one another. It was a small gesture, but it gave me something to hold onto, a reminder that I wasn’t the only one navigating this unfamiliar territory.
The next few weeks were a blur. I continued to study hard, to apply for jobs, to keep pushing forward. But I also learned to take small breaks for myself — to go for a walk, to sit in a café, to reflect on the progress I had made. Slowly, the stress that had once consumed me began to subside. It wasn’t gone, but I had learned how to manage it better.
One evening, as I walked back to my flat from the library, I received an email notification. I hesitated before opening it, already bracing myself for another rejection. But this time, the subject line was different: Interview Invitation: Part-Time Marketing Assistant Position.
My heart raced. Could this be the opportunity I had been waiting for?
I opened the email and read through the details, barely able to contain my excitement. The interview was scheduled for the following week, and while it wasn’t the dream job I had hoped for, it was something — a step in the right direction. I quickly responded, confirming my attendance, and sat back, feeling a sense of hope that had been absent for so long. This could be the break I needed.
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of preparation. I spent hours perfecting my resume, rehearsing for the interview, and doing everything I could to put my best foot forward. This was my chance to show that I wasn’t just an international student struggling to make ends meet — I was a capable, ambitious individual who had come to the UK with a purpose.
The night before the interview, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing with thoughts of what could go wrong. What if I messed up the interview? What if they didn’t like me? But then I remembered what Sarah had said: “You don’t have to force it. Just be yourself.”
And so, I went to the interview the next day, a little nervous but determined. The experience was challenging, but I could feel myself growing in confidence. I may not have had all the answers, but I had something more important: the willingness to learn.
As I walked out of the interview room, I felt a sense of accomplishment that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I had made it through, and no matter the outcome, I knew I had done my best. The weight of the stress seemed a little lighter now. I had rediscovered my purpose — this wasn’t just about surviving; it was about building something real, about creating a future for myself in this new world.
To be continued…
