Describe a piece of good news you received

I want to talk about some good news I received last year about my younger brother, Kofi. He got a place to study medicine at KNUST, which is a big university in Kumasi. It was very important for us, because nobody in our family has been a doctor before.

I heard the news in a strange way. It was very early in the morning, about quarter to six, and I was sitting in a trotro, which is a kind of minibus we have in Ghana, going to my work in Accra. My phone vibrated and it was a voice message on WhatsApp. I put my earphones and I listened to it.

The person who told me was Kofi himself. In the message he was shouting and laughing, and he said that he has just checked the university portal and his name is on the list. Five minutes later my mother also called me, and she was crying from happiness.

I felt so proud of him. The year before he didn't get a place and he was very depressed, so he repeated some exams and he studied day and night. When I heard the message I started crying in the trotro, and the woman next to me asked if somebody has died. I told her no, it's good news, and everybody in the bus congratulated me.

The best news I've had recently was that my younger brother, Kofi, got into medical school. He was offered a place to study medicine at KNUST in Kumasi, and he'll be the first doctor in our family, so it was a big deal for all of us.

The way I found out was a bit unusual. It was about quarter to six in the morning, and I was squashed into a trotro, one of our shared minibuses, on my way to work in Accra. My phone buzzed with a WhatsApp voice note, so I fished my earphones out of my bag and pressed play, expecting something routine.

It was from Kofi himself, and he could barely get the words out. He was laughing and shouting at the same time, saying he'd just checked the admissions portal and his name was on the list. A few minutes later my mum rang too, absolutely in tears, and we ended up talking over each other for most of the journey.

What I felt was a mixture of pride and huge relief. The previous year he'd been turned down, and he'd taken it really hard, so he spent months retaking two of his exams and studying until late every night. When I heard his voice, I'm a bit embarrassed to say, I just burst in tears, right there in the trotro. The woman beside me asked if somebody had died, and when I explained, half the bus started congratulating me, which was lovely.

The piece of good news that stands out for me came last year, when my younger brother, Kofi, was accepted to study medicine at KNUST in Kumasi. Nobody in our family has ever gone into medicine, so for my parents it was something close to a dream come true.

The circumstances were memorable, to say the least. It was a quarter to six in the morning, and I was wedged into the back of a trotro, one of the shared minibuses everyone uses here, crawling through Accra traffic on my way to work. My phone buzzed with a voice note, and I almost left it until later, assuming it was one of the family group's usual good-morning messages.

It turned out to be Kofi, and he was practically incoherent: half laughing, half shouting, telling me he'd just logged on to the admissions portal and found his name on the list. Within minutes my mother was ringing as well, so overcome that she could hardly speak, and the two of us spent the rest of the journey laughing at each other down the phone.

I think the reason it hit me so hard was what had come before. He'd been rejected the previous year and had taken it very badly, and I'd watched him spend months retaking exams and working past midnight with no guarantee it would pay off. So when I heard his voice, I'm afraid I lost my composure completely, right there in the trotro. The woman next to me asked, quite seriously, whether someone had passed away, and once I'd explained, the whole minibus broke into congratulations.