It was a sunny day in school, and just like every other school day, I was sweaty and irritated. Our course adviser came into the class. She told us that first-semester scores were now available and that we could come to check in her office. I smiled; it was a useless attempt to cover the pure fear that gripped my throat. I didn't want to see my grades because of one particular course: Inorganic Chemistry, Chem 426. 

Inorganic chemistry isn't too terrible. If you study the family and friends of the periodic table, you shouldn’t have a problem. However, the lecturers in charge of this course were monsters. Inorganic chemistry started looking like jargon on steroids, and it was only a short period until I lost control. I stopped attending the classes because I didn't gain anything from them. I gave up. When the tests and exams came, I read what I could to get above 45. The lecturer had other plans, though; the questions I saw in that exam were like glimpses of a horror movie. It isn't a stretch to say that was the worst exam of my life. He must have gone through the hidden edges of the course material to arrive at questions I had never seen before. 

I swallowed my fear and went to the course adviser's office. As usual, I met an overwhelming queue and waited for hours, holding onto the possibility that I would pass my inorganic chemistry course. After hours of starvation and exhaustion, it was my turn. I told my course adviser my matriculation number, and the first thing she said was, "Why?" My head began to spin; the worst had happened. Finally, she called out the verdict: I didn’t pass Chem 426. 
I was devastated. Still, I had to keep a smile on my face because my coursemates were outside, and I wanted no pity from them. 

After that day, I thought about Chem 426 every day. I even had dreams of strangling the lecturers in charge. "How did this happen?" was a question I kept asking myself. I had always passed my chemistry courses in all the years of being in University. Granted, I was not too fond of chemistry. It was challenging and overwhelming, but I didn't hate it either. Every night, I wrote in my journal, putting dots and points together to figure out why I failed. It was unheard of; I always succeeded. 

My dawn of breakthrough came on a fine Sunday morning after weeks of beating myself down and crying endlessly. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel from a distant memory of mine. It was a memory that happened after high school. In Nigeria, you must do an examination called JAMB before getting admitted into a University. I wanted to study Medicine back then, so I needed about 270 / 400 in JAMB. Alas, I didn't get 250 or even 240. I was furious. I blamed Nigeria, JAMB, and everything around me but myself. 

Six years later, I realized I had learned nothing from that experience.  Since that Sunday, I've been on a lonely self-development journey, uncovering the things hidden inside me. I discovered that the ignition of my self-development journey was failing that course. 

It didn't matter that the lecturers were terrible. They were, but that was just an excuse, like back then when I didn't get the needed JAMB score for Medicine. Nigeria has a way of encouraging excuses and complaints. It's so easy here. The government is against you, lecturers are against you, and even society is against you, especially if you're a woman. Nigerians have to put in twice the effort to stay happy and motivated. But I've realized that complaints and excuses do nothing; they're really just complaints and excuses. 

It's easy to blame my tiring adulthood on Nigeria and sit on my ass all day doing nothing. It's easy to blame failing Chem 426 on things like lack of talent, luck, and genius. 

Undoubtedly, luck exists. Some people are born lucky, with silver spoons in their mouths and highly supportive parents. But there are children with these same gifts whose lives still turn out miserably. Indeed, a wealthy family gives you an edge, but complaining about your family's position in life solves nothing too. Blaming your situation on anybody never helps.

In my self-development journey, I've learned that If you stand by and do nothing but play the blame game, opportunities will pass you by, like buses on highways. You've got to improve every day on whatever you're doing, so you're ready to grab that chance once it comes around because it will come. The goddess of fortune only smiles at those that can sniff her out. 

I don't plan to use my Chemistry degree for now, but I have it, and I did pretty well even though I failed a chemistry course. That was a small price to pay to see the world in another light. I know now that failing is a possibility, but endless success is also a possibility when I put in the work, without complaints or excuses. Honestly, I no longer consider it a failure.

While this story is about me, it's about you too. I hope you haven't shut yourself off from greatness just because you failed at something. Once, twice, or even countless times, it doesn't matter. The truth is that you didn't fail; you just didn't succeed…yet.