There are stages in life, and we don't choose stages that greet us.

We were once kids. Playing in the mud was a big-time thrill for us. We made contacts in the course of our countless childish dramas as kids. We had dreams and aspirations. Each of us wanted to become someone to be celebrated in the future. We knew there was a price to be paid. We set our hearts to pay it.

From nursery school, we made it to primary school. We didn't feel the impact of that transition. The only thing that changed was the fact that we were expected to cry less. Back then, in nursery school, we could cry all day and for flimsy reasons. But the bar was raised for us in primary school. 

Our actions and responses began to count. We made contacts and connected with our classmates. We had circles we didn't want to part with. We wished we could stay with them all through our lives. It happened that we got to basic six so fast. We had an entrance examination waiting for us, and a compulsory dispersion into high school was going to happen. We didn't like the idea, but it was a phase we were due for.

There is a secondary school; we made new contacts. It became so interesting that we wished we had made them earlier. But we wouldn't have appreciated this reality if we hadn't met those we met earlier. They only featured in a phase of our life that they were privileged to meet. Connections we're built. Value was shared. Interested expanded. The thinking was informed. 

We began to think of this phase to be the destination we were headed for. Soon we were expected to face WASSCE. This was the gateway for us to be ushered to the next phase of formal learning. The one we had looked forward to while we were kids. Our hope is to become all the pictures we painted in our imagination. 

There was a price to be paid. We had to be detached from the common environment where our incubation took place. We didn't like the idea, but transition never respected our choices, not for once. If we had decided to stay back, others wouldn't do the same.

The first few weeks in the varsity were spent in nostalgia. It didn't look like we were ever going to adjust to the phase we had been ushered into. Over time, our faculties subconsciously began to adjust to our new environment. We felt comfortable spreading our wings and taking a great flight. Each day made us look forward to the coming days with much excitement. We couldn't wait to come to the end of that phase.

The end came, and we had cold feet. We wondered why adult life presented us with a path that we must tread regardless of what we want. We imagined how there would ever be a situation where we would effortlessly keep in touch with all who have shared the oxygen available in our environment. Time began to raise its caution. It didn't wait for us for any second. We grew old against our choice. 

Back at home, the time came when we had to be fewer. Not because death had occurred but because a necessary transplant had to take place. Seats of responsibility were to be occupied. We look back and imagine that there was a time when nothing was expected of us. Before we could explore that phase to the fullest, the constraint was placed on the things we wanted to do. Just when we wanted to play like we used to, transition reminded us that... Sew those good old days for us. Let us wear them under our new garment. What would happen if we failed to respond to the transition?

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