My MBBS journey began earlier than most. Looking back now it probably pre dated me filling out my JAMB form. I know you are wondering how, but I think it all started with my father’s MBBS journey. He may not have realized it, but he played such a huge role in my decision to study medicine. No, he did not force me to, but hey I fell in love with how much my father was in love with medicine. So fast forward to when it was time to fill JAMB form, Medicine and Surgery was an obvious choice.
August 2009 after a pretty short summer holiday (sorry, Long vacation), I resumed Diploma classes because JAMB went and gave me dentistry. Shed a few tears, was broken hearted but Alleluia Diploma came through. I had the best time in my foundation year, not really being a newbie to the UNILAG campus as I went to ISL, but the thrills of waking up everyday and having to decide what you were going to wear; BLISS. With the constant reminder to keep your GP above 4.0 if you were going to scale through to 200L Medicine, Education library and Akintunde Ojo became a safe haven. And on days when the spirit was weak and the body somewhat willing, we settled for the Moremi reading room.
A year of sweat and blood after (jk, it was not that serious), we made it to the College of Medicine, University of Lagos. *insert loud audience cheering*With this came the struggle of the ‘uncool’ UME guys versus the ‘snobbish’ diploma people. Did I mention I was my class representative in Diploma? (Yes. Oversabi. I know. Moving on) Then the feminist in me struggled to keep on being class rep and never accepted for a minute to be called assistant to the UME rep. Issues. I know I got them. My point is persistence pays as I stayed Class rep for the 6 year period, and it was the best and WORST experience ever and afforded me the opportunity to serve, taught me to accept the apology not offered, and also greatest lesson: Funmi, your reward is in Heaven. LOL. Funmi Dumebi Akinde for President 2035.
Part 1 a.k.a 200L, I failed for the first time in my life. I remember boiling literally with anger and pain and anguish sef staring at the 38 on the anatomy board. I remember saying I needed a knife to slash the tires of the lecture in charge. I can laugh about it now. But that day after all my ranting I went to my room and cried for hours and hours, but look who is a doctor now. *tongue out* Subsequent years I was determined not to fail again. That when I really started pouring sweat and blood into my studying. I died on the line severally. Literally. I can’t even start to talk about the suffer that’s called Final Pros. S-U-F-F-E-R. Honestly it’s not even really how hard the exam is or the workload. It’s the constant nagging irrititating voice at the back of your mind reminding you of everybody you ever knew who failed the exam. But God saw his babygirl through (erm, yes. I’m his babygirl. Don’t judge)
Going through the six years I was really really involved in school, not just the academics part, politics (served 2 years as Lord Funmi, show some respect boy), several planning committees, multiple house girl errands for lecturers and residents. And I like to think that this all has shaped the woman I am today and the dignity and self-respect with which I carry myself. I’ve learnt to talk in front of large crowds, to listen to the tiny voice of a 4 year old, to speak for the 15 year old girl who just had a baby and wants to go back to school and her family wouldn’t let her and most of realized that I did not embark on this MBBS journey for myself but for these people who need me to be where I am.
In 6 years, I saw myself go from girl to woman, form being very confused with where I was headed to a little bit confused now (Residency can mess up your head ehn), I found love and satisfaction, I discovered what Funmi likes, where she like to eat out, where she sees herself in 10 years and more. I found favor that blew my mind consistently through the years and now I’m sure I couldn’t have gone through the 6 years without a God who loved me regardless of how little I am constantly having my back. I made friends that might not take a bullet for me but would sit with me day and night through the hospital admission discussing poetry and spoken work and of course boys. (My friends are the coolest; they go watch stage plays and listen to spoken words and go to art galleries and stuff. Yah.) I’m cool too.
There’s so much that has not gone in here, my MBBS journey would literally take hundreds of pages to put on paper. Hmmm. Watch out for my book. It’ll probably be a Newyork bestseller. I digress. To end this, looking forward I hope to find a specialty that has me head over heels in love just like my dad. I’ve realized that once you love what you do, it makes and the tears and blood of the last 6 years worth it.
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