My name is Amina, I am 22 years old, from Ekiti State, and I am a final year student studying in another state university. I never thought I would ever write something like this, but I am tired of keeping it inside. The guilt, shame, and fear have been eating me alive. I need to tell my story.
Last semester, I was struggling with ECO401, my final year Economics course. I already had some carryovers, and if I failed this course, I might have to go for extension. I studied every day, attended lectures, copied notes from my friends, but nothing helped. Every time I tried to understand the complex topics, my mind felt blank. The fear of failing, disappointing my parents, and delaying my graduation was crushing me.
I finally decided to go see the lecturer after summoning all the courage I could find. He is very strict, and students usually fear even talking to him. The first time I knocked on his office door, he barely looked at me. “I’m busy, come later,” he said without raising his head. I left quietly, my heart heavy and shame burning in my chest.The second time, I tried again. I rehearsed my words, telling myself this was my only chance. But the moment I spoke, he waved me off. “Not now. I’m busy. Come later,” he said. I felt hopeless. The fear of failing ECO401 and adding another extension was suffocating me. I left with tears threatening to fall, my body trembling from anxiety.
On the third day, I forced myself to knock again. My hands were shaking so badly that I could hardly turn the handle. When he opened the door, he looked at me impatiently. “Come in… what can I do for you, young girl? Be fast, I’m busy,” he said, glancing at his papers. I stepped in slowly, my heart racing. I tried to explain, “Sir… I am struggling with ECO401. I have some carryovers already… if I fail this one, I may not graduate on time… please, sir, I need help.”He leaned back in his chair and studied me carefully. “Amina… I can help you pass. But there is something you must do for me first,” he said softly, almost casually. I froze. My mouth went dry. I knew exactly what he meant, but the fear of failing made my head spin. “No, sir… I… I can’t do it… sir, please, just help me…” I whispered, my voice trembling. My mind screamed at me to leave, but my fear of failure screamed louder. I thought of my parents, my family’s hard work, and my dream of graduating on time. He smiled, leaning forward slightly. “No one will ever know, Amina. I promise… just one time. You will pass ECO401 if you listen to me.” His words were soft, persuasive, like honey wrapped in danger. I wanted to run, but my legs felt like they were frozen.
Over the next few days, he kept talking to me after class, slowly wooing me. He would ask about my studies, compliment me for being smart, say I deserved to pass if I worked a little closer with him. Every word was calculated, gentle but pressing. He made it feel like he was the only person who could save me from failure. Finally, one evening, he asked me to meet him in his office, after most students had left. My stomach twisted in fear and shame. I thought, “If I fail this, I might not graduate… what choice do I have?” I knocked lightly, and he motioned me in. The office was empty, quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan. He spoke calmly, almost kindly. “Amina… I know you are scared. But you want to pass ECO401, right?” My hands shook as I nodded. “Yes… yes, sir… I really can’t fail… sir please…” I whispered, almost crying. He leaned closer, looking into my eyes. “I will help you. But you must trust me. One time… just one time. Then you will pass, and everything will be fine.” My head was spinning. I knew it was wrong, but my desperation was stronger than my fear. My mind was screaming no, but my heart and my future were screaming yes.
After long minutes of internal battle, trembling, and tears, I finally gave in. I slept with him that night in his office. It was tense, uncomfortable, and I hated myself immediately afterward. Relief washed over me, but shame followed quickly. He promised I would pass ECO401, and I clung to that hope like a lifeline.
Later, the exam was carried out. I tried to focus, answered the questions I knew, but a small part of me kept whispering, “What if… what if I fail, even after everything?” I was no longer as scared as before, but anxiety lingered in the back of my mind. Every time I wrote an answer, I remembered what had happened with him, and I felt a heavy weight in my chest. My hands trembled slightly as I wrote, and I caught myself staring at the ceiling, thinking about how desperate I had been.
When I finally received my result—I passed. For a moment, I smiled, but inside, I felt hollow. The worst part is that my friends, who never compromised, also passed. They studied, stayed honest, and yet I thought I needed this shortcut. The guilt is unbearable. Every time I remember that day, I feel unhappy, ashamed, and empty. I regret my actions.
I am sharing this because I want other students to learn from my mistake. There is no shortcut to success. Hard work, honesty, and patience will always pay off. I hope no other student ever faces the choice I faced. I will never forget what I did, and the regret will stay with me forever.
