The first week in campus taught me the hard way

It is my first week in campus, and I don’t want the whole campus to know I am a first-year. So when all ‘freshers’ are walking around in slippers, I keep my feet suffocated in my newly acquired loafers and khakis. I also address any strangers in my ‘so to say broken high school English’, and I tell them that I am a third year. Other students haven’t reported yet, it’s only freshers, and of course student leaders who are here to give us orientation. 

 

Many chaps approach me for direction and enquire the position I hold in the student leadership. “I am the senior finance secretary,” I lie. Nonetheless, my supremacy is short lived. I lose it as soon as the second, third and fourth years report. One afternoon, I am heading to the school mess when one girl stops me. After the preliminaries, she apprises me that I look familiar. She says she’s seen me before but doesn’t remember where exactly that happened. I open up and tell her so many things about me, including where I live, the high school that I attended, how I don’t have a girlfriend, but when it comes to campus, I stick to being a third year. She tells me her name is Moh, and that she’s a second year pursuing a degree in Medicine. She probes where I was headed to; I tell her that I was just strolling. 

 

We walk towards the school basketball court and chat for about 30 minutes. I ask for her number, she refuses to give it to me. She says we are still strangers. That she can’t dish out her phone number to somebody she just met hardly an hour ago. She tells me that if I’m serious, I should drop by her room and pick it. 

We strike up a deal that I should visit her tomorrow, she resides outside school and since tomorrow will be a Saturday, I should go over. She gives me the direction to where she stays. You see the way luck hits people?  So tomorrow I won’t be idling or roaming around, I’ll be busy somewhere. People say ‘fake it till you make it’ Haven’t I made it? 

 

The next day I make it there, four o’clock finds me beside her door. She hugs me and lets me in. Her room is so neat and organized; the fragrance in here is incomparable. Her room is full of life. She turns on music. She makes for the cupboard and comes with delmonte and juice in plastic bottles. She then informs me that she doesn’t consume liquor, so she apologizes for not purchasing alcohol. “It’s ok,” I reply. She then pulls a drawer and takes out a packet of cupcakes. We eat and drink and talk and laugh. 

 

Moments later, I start laughing out loud hysterically. I just laugh, laugh, laugh and laugh. Later, drowsiness engulfs me. She supports and guides me to her bed. I wake up outside our school gate the next morning. I yawn, wipe my eyes, scratch my head, and look around. I’m so worn-out. I don’t understand why I’m here. I give my head several slaps, that’s when I recall what befell me yesterday. My bag, laptop and phone aren’t with me. All I have is an empty wallet.