Win. But at what cost?

July 24th, 2025. Graduation day. Should I have been happy? Probably. I applied to public universities twice and wasn't selected. Third try, I got into MUST. It was my last option out of six programs. Meteorology and Climate Science wasn't my choice, it was a redirect. I don't even remember the program I originally applied for. But I embraced it early, and it became the foundation for everything I'm building now. I finished secondary school in 2017, got selected in 2020, started in 2021. Four years later, I was finally walking across that stage.

But when I think about that day, the honest answer is: hollow. I was happy, but was I really? My graduation was more for the people I love, my family, my friends. For me, the moment I crossed that stage, my brain said one thing. What next.

I gave myself two weeks off. I didn't have a single day of peace. My mind, body, and soul were screaming at me to get back up and work. So I did.

The timeline since then is long. DataCamp scholarship running out, so I sprinted. Aimed for Data Scientist certification, got Data Analyst, pushed further and got all three. ADDA Level 1, then Level 2. Projects, one after another. A climate risk dashboard. A waste management system for Blantyre City Council. A startup, Ascend Spatial Labs, where I serve as CTO. Wins, objectively. A long list of them.

And yet.

I wake up, check my emails, take a cold shower, head to work. I'm usually early, so the first hour is mine, refining ideas, fixing bugs, planning, documenting. The day goes by. I log my thoughts, work on a few things, scroll LinkedIn, check my emails again. Knowing very well they are empty. Evening session, read a bit, watch some long-form YouTube. Sleep. Repeat.

People tell me I'm doing the most, that I'm pushing harder than most people my age. I appreciate it, genuinely. But it bounces off. Because I'm not competing with most people. I'm competing with myself, and with a small idea of the person I want to become. From where I'm standing, the mountain doesn't get smaller the more I climb. It just shows me how much further there is to go.

Every milestone lands the same way. Five seconds of something, then silence, then what next.

No one is coming to save you. That's not pessimism, it's just the reality of things here. So you work. You build the system, you show up, you check the emails you already know are empty. You do it again tomorrow.

Win. But at what cost?...