How Nursing School Tested My Faith and Strength

I used to love school until I got to the university! 

My journey did not start easily. I wrote the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) exam three times, and I only secured admission on the third try. 

I remember waking up at night, praying that I would not miss the year’s admission list again. Between those years of reapplying, I started a diploma course in computer science. I have never felt so out of place and lost as I did in those classes.

When I finally got into the university, I was mentally drained. I was not even sure if nursing was what I wanted anymore, but I was already in and could not turn back. I actually chose nursing myself, it was my second choice after dental surgery. 

At first, I was happy, even too excited, until I arrived on campus. The campus was beautiful, and I loved the freedom it offered. I was especially happy because I had friends from back home, so I was not alone most of the time.

But then classes started, and it was hell. My experience in school became a journey of exhaustion, frustration, tears, and pain. I was burnt out and tired most of the time, but I had to keep reading. Sometimes I would cry while reading, fall asleep right there, wake up, and continue. 

My first result was not impressive. I had no carry-overs, but my grades were low. I did not understand the system at all, but I told myself I would build on that result. 

I did not set huge goals; I simply decided not to score lower than my current point. This way, I planned to grow my grades little by little. I did it. It has been one of the decisions I was truly dedicated to.

Being a nursing student means you never get a real break. When other students end the semester and go on holiday, we go for clinicals.

Sometimes, by the time we finished our clinical postings, a new semester had already begun. This meant we went straight back to classes. The mental exhaustion was persistent. There was barely anything to look forward to. 

My only saving grace was the time I spent with my friends, but I could not stay out for too long. There was no rest at all, not during classes or clinical postings, but I preferred the times we were on posting because it meant less reading.

Even though I chose nursing, I was not prepared for the level of trauma that came with it. This profession truly belongs to the compassionate. Even when you desperately want to rest or stop bothering yourself about others, you must look out for your patients and even their caregivers.

 

The hospital is not a happy place. You are not happy, your patients are not happy, and you see the worry on the faces of their relatives.

Worse is the hostility that the system often shows towards students. You can feel like you are interfering with their work, and nurses just do not want you there. Only a few nurses will willingly guide students. 

Most of the time, they do not want you touching equipment or even asking questions. Despite this, you must show up every day, because that is the only way to learn and not add to the country’s already long list of unskillful “professionals.” 

Your attendance matters a lot!

The negative parts of being a student are real, but I must say, there is beauty in caring for your patients. I promise you, your patients will never forget you. I try as much as I can not to leave a negative impression on anyone.

When you nurse a person back to health or help them through their end-of-life journey, when you have given your all, the peace that comes with it is unmatched.

A few times, my name has been called randomly in the hospital hallways, and I have been greeted with a smile. Sometimes I remember them as patients from certain wards or as relatives of patients whom I made things easier for. 

This happens even as a student with limited authority. The smallest of things are not really small within the hospital walls, even something as little as giving directions.

This journey was not the easiest. I am so grateful to my parents for their immense support. My friends also made it worthwhile. A journey that should have taken five years stretched into seven years.

My final year was just me dragging myself to the finish line. There was so little fun at that point. Early in the year, when I had more time, I would walk around the school instead of staring at a screen.

But that quickly became depressing because every path I took reminded me of when my friends were around. Every spot had memories attached to it, so I stopped going out altogether. 

Final year was physically the easiest because we had fewer classes and more clinicals, but the weight of preparing for my professional exams started. At one point, I was writing my school project, a project for the professional exam, and a client care report for it too. Alhamdulillah, I am done with all of them now.

Even without all these things to worry about, I am still exhausted and fatigued. This will wear off with time. I love home and cannot wait to leave here. No more long-distance travel, no more readings, and no more dealing with roommates, lecturers, or school staff. This is a phase I have long anticipated closing, and I am glad it has ended. 

The end of one chapter is the beginning of another, and I am ready for the next phase. They say nurses get jobs easily, but I still have a little fear in me because Nigeria is really unpredictable.

I pray the journey ahead is calmer, less toxic, and brings a lot of money. Regardless of how it turns out, I am set and locked in for the future. 

I am Ishaq Zara Jibril (RN, RM, BNSC), and I am certain I will be fine regardless of what the future looks like.

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