The excitement you feel when you get into the School of Law is hard to put into words. The feeling of relief and joy that yes, I got in ! This joy is justified because you know how competitive it is to get in. You arrive with great expectations and a lot of very interesting ideas about what you think the law would look like. Most of these funny ideas disappear after you go for your first lecture. A very huge document is shared to everyone and as you hold this very thick document which weighs heavier than some books, you are informed it is just the course outline. That moment is when you realize that indeed “We did not come here to play”. The course outline alone has more content than the complete course work of that course you are thinking about, that I would rather not mention.
To survive, you give in to the workload and you let it run you like a sole camel being used on a vast dessert. You let the law have its way, much like the “learned helplessness” theory psychologists speak about. Soon, you begin to feel the thrill of pushing yourself to limit. Reading those very long cases and digesting the most complex legal theories. Killing tutorial questions and receiving high praises from lecturers. There is this rush of blood to your head and for a short moment you feel invincible. You feel like you went toe to toe with Ares, the god of war and won the battle. You begin to realize that you might actually be good at this ‘law thing’. Then you meet the multi-headed hydra we call exam. You read and prepare for it and just when you think you are ready, you check out the past question only to be enlightened that you need to wake up very quickly before they invent new alphabets after ‘Z’ to give you as your grade. You put yourself together and you put in more work. You finally write the paper. There are always the reincarnations of Lord Denning who finish with great speed and those extra sheet legends who are directly contributing to deforestation. Meanwhile, you, on the other hand are wondering whether the clock in the examination hall is faulty because you looked up 2 minutes ago and 20 minutes is already gone. Examination ends and sweet vacation arrives.
As you sit at home about to eat a powerful breakfast of heavy kenkey like the true African that you are, you see that a message has dropped on the class page. Your heart may skip few beats because the page that has been as silent as an undertaker’s work station has suddenly come to life. You scroll though the messages only to be notified that at 4am, while you were in dreamland with Alice, someone dropped on the page that the result for a particular course has been released. As to how the person was checking their grades that early is a question you leave for the gods to answer. You rush to check and you discover that the grade was good and that maybe, just maybe, all your hard work did not amount to nothing. There are times when you check and your heart sinks deeper than the Titanic. For it is one thing to not work hard and get a result that reflects it but when you know you gave your sweat and blood and it does not reflect, you feel defeated and deflated. Hopefully, in those days of doubt, you remember the days of thrill and the days when you felt everything was possible.
There is no denying that there are great highs of being in the School of Law, yet, there is a heavy cloud that never seems to leave. It follows you like the Lord followed the Israelites from Egypt, like a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. This cloud is the entrance exam to the Ghana school of law.Until you pass you can never really breathe properly. For you know it has toppled many giants to the ground. To make things even direr, the strike has lasted for six weeks. The anxiety from all of these is enough to get some people on anxiety medication. Yet should we will lie down and give in to despair? We will give all and fight with every fibre of our being. We have won severalbattles against our god of war. Now, it’s time to win the war. So put on the full armor of God and tighten your resolve. I hope that in the end we can proclaim as Julius Caesar did, ‘we came, we saw and we conquered’.