When Eke Djibril first arrived at Howard University, she felt nervous, unsure, and a little out of place. She worried about fitting in, about whether her outfit measured up to what she had seen in YouTube videos, and about starting fresh in a new city far from home. But underneath that anxiety was something stronger—gratitude and pride.

“I kept thinking about how far I had come,” she said. “In that moment, I knew all my hard work in high school had truly paid off.”

It was a long journey from Omaha, Nebraska, to “The Mecca,” and one rooted in faith, family, and determination.

Eke’s childhood in Omaha was defined by contrasts. “My community was at times unaccepting, but loving at times,” she said. “Many times, I felt ostracized and never fully seen for who I was.”

As a tall, dark-skinned, Muslim African girl who spoke limited English when she first arrived, she often felt like an outsider. “I had a translator following me around school,” she recalled. But the local African community became her anchor—“supportive, nurturing, and always there for me in hard times.”

That environment taught her two lifelong lessons: gratitude and grit. “You must be grateful for what you have,” she said. “But you must also be relentless in the pursuit of your dreams.” She often reminded herself that she was working not only for her own future but for her extended family back home in Togo who couldn’t access the same opportunities.

Eke credits her mother and grandmother for instilling her discipline and self-worth. “My mom is a single-parent Muslim immigrant,” she said. “She made it clear that bringing home anything below a B was unacceptable, and that attaining knowledge was my only escape.”

Her grandmother’s influence was equally strong. Eke spent six years in Togo, where her grandmother enrolled her in a strict private school. “The system was intense,” she said. “Even a B was seen as failure.” Despite limited means, her grandmother hired a tutor and emphasized that education was an investment worth any sacrifice.

No one in her family had attended an HBCU, and expectations leaned toward elite, predominantly white institutions. “I had offers from Creighton and Georgetown,” she said. “People expected me to aim for Ivy League schools like Harvard or Dartmouth.” But Eke had other plans.

Her discovery of Howard came from curiosity more than coincidence. “I’d always gone to predominantly white schools,” she said. “One day in middle school, I got curious and wondered if there were colleges for predominantly Black students.”

A simple Google search led her to Howard University—ranked number one among HBCUs. “I started reading about the alumni and their achievements, and I was sold,” she said. “I knew one way or another, I would attend Howard on a full-ride scholarship.”

That decision would shape her future in ways she couldn’t yet imagine.

Eke never visited Howard’s campus before attending. “I knew it was the right decision because I felt it in my heart,” she said. “I knew I would be seen, valued, and allowed to take up space without fear of being called ‘ghetto.’”

Watching Howard students on YouTube sealed the deal. “They expressed themselves through their hair, their clothes, their style—I was captivated,” she said. “It was freedom.”

When the financial aid package arrived, Howard wasn’t just her dream—it became the most affordable option. “It felt meant to be,” she said.

When she finally stepped on campus, Eke’s emotions ranged from excitement to doubt. “I was nervous,” she said. “Would I fit in? Would people like me? But I also felt emotional thinking about how far I’d come.”

Home didn’t happen overnight. “It took time to adjust and find my footing,” she admitted. “But during freshman week, when Nardo Wick, Jayda Wayda, and NBA players visited campus—it hit me. I was part of something big.”

Eke describes Howard’s culture as “bold, creative, and illustrious.”

“Howard students can do anything,” she said. “We have people modeling for Vogue, interning with Goldman Sachs, and working with the NBA. It’s competitive, but in the best way—we push each other to be better.”

That energy inspired her to embrace ambition and leadership. “We don’t just study at Howard—we build futures.”

When Eke arrived, her self-esteem was low. “I didn’t believe I was smart enough to become a doctor,” she said. “I’d spent years pretending to fit into spaces that weren’t built for me.”

Howard changed that. Seeing Black doctors, scientists, and professors walk across campus in scrubs and white coats was transformative. “Up until Howard, I had never seen a Black MD,” she said. “Now I see them every day, and it changed how I see myself.”

Surrounded by professors and peers who looked like her, Eke began to see her own brilliance reflected back. She joined Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Inc., eventually becoming president—a role that taught her how to lead with both confidence and compassion.

As sorority president, Eke learned to release perfectionism. “I realized I need to have more grace with myself,” she said. “Mistakes are inevitable. Expecting perfection isn’t realistic—it’s rooted in fear.”

That lesson changed how she approaches every challenge, both as a leader and as a student. “I’ve learned to be my most authentic self in any space,” she said. “Without fear of judgment.”

When asked what she’d tell someone on the fence about attending an HBCU, her answer is simple: “Howard is the number one HBCU for a reason. Come and see for yourself—or spend your days wondering what could have been.”

For Eke Djibril, choosing Howard wasn’t just about getting an education—it was about reclaiming her identity, celebrating her culture, and proving that no dream is too distant for a girl who once needed a translator in class.