University offers a degree—but it can cost your dignity.
This is a letter to the girl preparing to leave home.
To the girl preparing for September intake –
“Let’s talk, girl to girl.”
I know the usual comments will come.
“Why not talk about the boy child too?”
“Both genders go through the same things.”
Yes, true. The boy child is also fighting silent battles. I will talk about that—but let’s take this one thread at a time.
Today, allow me to speak to the girl child.
Because the truth is: a lot of girls lose themselves at university.
And I’m not talking about academics. I’m talking about identity.
About values.
About grounding.
About the sudden silence of structure and the loud invitation to “do as you please.”
I studied abroad. And I remember it like yesterday.
We had just landed—bags in hand, fresh-faced, expectant. We were welcomed at the airport and ushered into the bubble of “induction.” Everything was new. The air. The freedom. The idea of adulthood.
Seniors met us with warmth, advice, and support. They showed us the ropes—how to move around campus, how to register, where to shop for essentials. But somewhere in the middle of that kindness, someone added spice.
A sentence that slipped into the air like a joke but stuck like a seed:
“Remember, this isn’t home. You can do whatever you like now—even the things you were never allowed to do at home.”
And just like that, the quiet doors to rebellion swung open.
No more curfews. No more parental supervision. No one asking why you’re back late or who you’re with. Freedom. Beautiful. Dangerous. Expensive.
Girls who once had dreams walked away from them slowly—not in one big decision, but in tiny compromises.
One night out turned into a new habit.
One unhealthy relationship turned into emotional erosion.
One bad decision led to five more, and suddenly… they couldn’t recognise themselves.
Because freedom without discipline is just another form of bondage.
University can give you a degree, yes. But it can also take your dignity, your direction, your self-worth—if you’re not careful.
I’ve seen girls burn out not because they weren’t smart, but because no one reminded them:
Freedom doesn’t mean lose yourself. It means you now have the power to choose yourself.
I stayed grounded because I had to remember what my name meant at home.
I had to remember who raised me.
I had to remember that success is more than a certificate—it’s becoming someone your younger self would be proud of.
So to the girl child:
Don’t forget why you’re there.
Don’t forget what you carry.
Don’t trade your future for temporary validation.
You can enjoy your life without losing your values.
You can laugh, live, and even fall in love—but keep your compass. Keep your mind. Keep your fire.
One day, the dust will settle.
The photos will fade.
The parties will end.
But your story?
Your name?
Your light?
Let it be something you don’t have to recover from.
