I was seated at the kitchen table in Kenya one Friday evening in November last year, anxiously sipping coffee and incessantly refreshing my online portal which I’d used to apply for the Autumn 2025 admission at a university in the USA.

An email soon popped up on my notification bar.

It was an offer. I had been accepted into Columbia University in New York City to pursue a Masters of Arts in sociology.

It had always been my dream, since my late dad had pursued his undergraduate there.

I grabbed my phone and called my mum to tell her. We cried together on the phone for what seemed like an eternity.

Years of late nights studying for the American exams, endless redrafts of essays, and countless calls chasing after reluctant teachers for references had finally paid off.

For the first time

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