It’s the evening before my final examination, and all is right and perfect with my world. The sky is beautiful and the…..actually that’s a lie. Nothing is going according to plan and I’m confused af. My room is in a state of utter disarray, tempers and egos are boiling and a fight is definitely brewing. Room mate number 1 is vexing because his very expensive body cream has been steadily decreasing for some time, along with his tissue paper. And NO ONE uses body cream here…well, no one uses if for the ‘proper reasons’, if you catch my drift.
Added to that, these boys decided to do a ‘confession night’, so for the last hour grown men have been confessing to the various crimes they committed over the duration of the session. It’s been bloody. Someone’s talking about how he’s been “buying” chargers and other items from us and other select hostel residents. It took a while for me to understand that he meant ‘stealing’, because me, I shaa know I didn’t sell anything to anyone. What started as a good idea is slowly turning violent, so I quickly make my exit before I’ll be caught in the crossfire. One buy will just goan mistakenly punch me and I’ll mistakenly faint and then, mistakenly end up in Medical Centre.
I’m considering going for one of those ‘MFM Exam Success Prayer’ things they’ve been advertising. Coupled with the fact that I’ve never been to a place of worship throughout my stay in this school, it seems quite pertinent that I attend this particular prayer session.
I’m still debating it and summoning up courage to actually go, as I walk into the hostel toilet. Big mistake. The pungent odour beckons me to rethink my decision, and I hurriedly obey. I feel it’s for the best really. That’s how I’ll go for the prayer now, one student pastor will nw goan use fire to wipe my memory and all the cases I’ve crammed will disappear. No! I’d rather just go for overnight.
The examination hall is cold and deathly quiet. I don’t think the guy to my right is even breathing sef. The chief invigilatior is a silent watchtower and he’s doing a terrific job. He looks like the kinda person that has an already printed ‘malpractice form’ in his back pocket, in case the necessity arises. You’ll just quickly fill it while your dreams of Law School and legal glory slowly fade away. The man reminds me of that ‘Guardians of The Galaxy’ movie.
For a 2hours and 30minutes exam, I’ve used about an hour to answer just one question. That means I have 3 questions to go. Yippee:'( I take a cursory look around the room and what I see makes me immensely happy. At least, I’m writing and know the answers to the questions, one girl has practically dozed off, while another is staring intently at the door, as if planning her escape. I turn back to face my script, all this is really not my business.
Time runs on and I’m writing faster than I ever have in my life. Sorry scratch that, attempting. I’m attempting to write faster than I ever have in my life, cos I really can’t call this almost indecipherable thing I’m doing writing. It looks more like chicken scratch. I hope and pray that the lecturer grading the paper is not a slave to reading glasses like most of them seem to be. I can just imagine my cgpa drowning in a pool of angry red ink.
The ‘Watchtower’ screams 15 minutes left, and the terror that momentarily grips me is paralysing. In all this however, the devil still decides to show himself. It’s at that point I notice (for the first time, I swear) the very short skirt the girl to my left is wearing. It’s utterly remarkable really. As I contemplate falling for this well set trap, I violently jerk back to reality, hiss and continue the destruction of my answer sheet. The prayers of my mother shall not be in vain.
Kayode Eso, one of the 4 chambers in the Faculty of Law is hosting it’s annual ‘Karoeke Night’, and the squad & I, (under the influence of several substances shhhh) have decided to go and turn TF up. Exams are over and done with after all. At the entrance to the faculty, the crowd packed there consists of mostly pretty girls. Not all though. Some of them are simply…below par, for the lack of a more politically correct term. One of them looks like she was born and bred(bread) in Agege. Another looks like amala. Lol swear down, she really does. Despite all this, I’m pretty sure tonight’s gonna make sense.
The singing and lip syncing is going as planned. It’s amazing that some people can so effortlessly destroy the lyrics to a song, even after said lyrics are played on the Tv. Simply amazing. ‘Sexual Healing’ is suddenly sounding like one of Pasuma’s greatest hits ever *sigh*
Different voices, both the good, the bad and the uniquely terrible, have come together to create different versions of certain songs, but everyone seems to be genuinely enjoying themselves. In my drowsy state, I observe the Lounge and my gaze settles on this particular female. She’s light-skinned, and as I try to focus my unsteady mind, I remind myself that I have just 3 days left in this school. Why not make the most of it? And with this firm resolve, I rise and calmly begin my approach.
Home. It feels good to be back. No more money worries, unlimited food and a room not infested by bed bugs. Bliss! This euphoria, however, is quite short lived. It’s day number 3, and I’m bored beyond comprehension. I’m actually talking to myself rn, which normally wouldn’t be so weird, except that I’m also demonstrating and making wild gestures. Plus, there’s a 3rd voice coming from somewhere, which is strange because I’m pretty sure I’m the only one here. Help me!
I make the brave decision to go out for a walk…at 1:15…in the afternoon. The sun is obviously not on my side, the heat is overwhelming and I’m already drenched in sweat. This probably wasn’t my best idea. I struggle on, but my situation is not improving in the least. People are actually clearing the way and giving me all those looks usually reserved for mad people. And all this is still within the estate I live in, surely I can’t look that bad, right?
The sun continues to smile and wave, I’m in imminent danger of passing out. Today might just be the day I die of boredom, literally. Just when all hope seems to be lost, I hear a beautiful sound, it’s almost…angelic, maybe I’m going to heaven? Maybe. The sound continues shrilly, and then I realise that it’s just the alarm that goes off when power has bee restored. NEPA (sorry, Eko Power Distribution Centre) in their infinite mercy has decided to bless us with light, glorious light.
I don’t know where the strength comes from, but I manage to turn around and race back to the safety of my house and the protection of the air conditioning, while making an earnest supplication to God to save my holiday from ruin.
I cannot come and go and die and kill myself away.
Have a happy holiday people, lord knows y’all deserve it. Bless:D
Great Opara is…well, he’s Great, he likes to see himself as a peculiar, “tribeless” Nigerian. His hobbies include but are not limited to writing, eating, staring at his image in the mirror and talking to pretty females. Blessed with the gift of sarcasm, this antisocial, introverted, unsung hero plans to use fiction to change the world. You can follow him on Twitter: @monsieur_ace