The Struggle

Mathematics was one of those subjects that had me sitting all clueless in the exam hall, feeling like the retard of retards. Worst was when I’m wondering if I need a graph sheet or logarithm table, then one smarty-pants shoots her hand up and requests for extra sheet.

And when the Committee of Smarty-Pants say there’s a mistake in a question? Whenever that happens I just start laughing in my head. They could throw in Spanish in one of those questions and I wouldn’t understand it enough to see a mistake.

Let’s shift Maths aside for a moment and talk about the others. In Junior secondary, there were two subjects I exceptionally hated: Music and French.

French made me feel super inept. I was in awe of those who were good at it. My brain couldn’t figure out how they could read questions in French, understand it, and give answers in BLOODY FRENCH. How? Those humans couldn’t even speak the language, yet they could do that? Still blows my mind as I think of it.

On the other hand, whenever we had to go to that music lab with the dead piano at the corner and ancient music projects hanging on the walls, I just felt depressed. The only thing I liked about the subject was doodling artsy music notes, treble cleff, and bass cleff symbols over and over on my notebooks. Aha, I was a master doodler… don’t judge me, it was kinda calming. You have to admit that.

Time passed to Senior class and I was punched in the face with Economics.

*weeping in Chinese*

It was terrible, guys. I hated that subject with a deep seething passion.

Supply and Demand curve.

Scarcity.

Law of Diminishing Returns.

What the hell?

It was like junior class all over again–me feeling completely clueless and stupid. Ugh.

Economics was like a tasteless arranged marriage I had to live through for the three years of my senior secondary education. Didn’t feel so bad about it though, I had this other handsome husband that I loved with all my soul. Literature in English.

I loved that subject. It was so easy between us, there was a flow. I found myself being excited when I read for a test or exam; it was that good between us. Lit in Eng was my solace. Whenever the bad marriage I had with Maths and Economics beat me down, I’d run to Lit in Eng and feel alive.

Though I regret not paying proper attention to Music and French, I do not feel a smidge of regret in the area of Maths and Econs. They fit each other perfectly, abusive husbands I was only too happy to get rid of through the WAEC divorce Court.