Walking along the badly eroded road, under the extremely scorching tropical sun of the suburb in which my new mushroom university was located, i struggled to subdue the frown on my face, as i made my way to school gate wishing I had a fez cap to evade those forehead wrinkles which normally accompanies it as i stared aimlessly at just about anything occasionally taking quick glances downwards, to ensure I didn’t fall into any of those portholes(as i wouldn’t want to open my events account in campus with a howler).
From the mediocre looking structures which was seriously juxtaposed to the glamorous pictures I had earlier painted in my mind, my attention was soon shifted to the people going about their every day businesses, dressed up to date albeit a few, who were probably fellow Freshers. The Guys, most smartly dressed, looking really good on their finely trimmed beards which unfortunately wasn’t in my possession, giving me insights on what my fashion sense on the campus was going to look like, and of course the Ladies, “ahhh… those ones” well not all were exactly top notch per say. But, hitherto, I haven’t been in a situation where almost 70% of the ladies present managed to render my mind vulnerable to vain thoughts. Next stop was the admission office for my clearance, the excitement was already building up, i couldn’t wait to be certified a bonafide student of this not so great institution. . After an emphatic joust with the beast of a queue which lay in front of the admission office, defying the very principles of ‘Frowshness’ in the process, hearing the word “next!” seemed to me like the nicest word ever uttered as I dragged my pressure numbed feet paying no heed to the “krooh!, krooh!” sound my footwear was making until a ” my friend are you okay!?” from the stern looking admission officer jolted me back to order. “does here look like your father’s house? ” she further added as i stood almost at attention on what was supposed to be my legs (because I still couldn’t feel them).
The surprise I felt earlier soon turned to fear as i realised that the slight altercation was enough to rouse a colossus of a man O’ war personnel who was now coming towards us.
“Any problem ma, is this one giving problem? ” he asked with a tone which suggested he was almost praying for an affirmative answer so he could keenly proceed with the next phase which entailed pounding me to a pulp. “No it’s nothing exactly, no problem” she replied to my utter most relief. ” Tha..thank you ma” i gratefully stuttered as I watched the giant retreat to his lair from the corner of my eyes imagining what the allusion would have looked like.
Lost in thoughts as I pulled out my credentials, losing my usual smirk which came each time my near impeccable ‘A’ and ‘O level were commended, as i imagined how my five year probably bitter sweet journey to a B.Eng would play out.
Ebuka Umerah Leo is a Mechanical Engineering student who has a flair for writing, basically story telling. He loves cartoons and he is a music addict. You can contact him via his e-mail address firstname.lastname@example.org