Welcome to University

The loud honk of a car horn jerked me from my brief rest.

I opened my eyes groggily and my dad's shout filtered into my ears.

"Don't you know how to drive? Lee onye iberibe."

I laughed at my dad's tendency to switch to Igbo whenever other drivers annoyed him. 

We were on the way to the airport and I still felt a bit sleepy because my dad had decided to book a six a.m Sunday flight instead of a Monday evening flight like I had suggested.

I reclined the seat, snuggled in, and closed my eyes once again.

"Chisom, wake up, we're here." My dad said, shaking my shoulder.

I let out a moan of protest; stretched out my body, vibrated my left leg, and released a yawn.

"Swallow me o. Come out of the car jare," My dad said.

I stepped out of the black, Toyota highlander jeep and went around to the boot to retrieve my luggage.

My dad and I walked into the airport and to the airline counter to collect my boarding pass.

I turned in my luggage to be put in the aircraft and hoisted my carry-on bag to my shoulder.

"Safe journey my dear daughter. Do not forget to call me once you have landed. The driver will be there to pick you up and take you to school," My dad said as he pulled me into a bear hug.

"I'll miss you, Dad," I whispered as I returned his hug, trying to control the tears about to spill from my eyes.

His hug reminded me of how my mom held me tightly against her body and cried.

I cried so hard; I had never been separated from my mom for long.

The longest time I had spent away from both my parents was a mere ten days when I went for a school excursion to Ghana.

I was still going to see them again for Christmas but that knowledge did nothing to soothe the ache in my chest.

I stepped back from the hug and wiped my cheeks.

"Bye Dad."

And in a low tone, I said, "Please try not to fight with mom, I beg you."

"Do not worry about that okay? Just focus on school and don't let our problems take a toll on you. Goodbye," He said.

He patted my head and walked away.

I sighed heavily and made my way to the security check.

The flight was smooth and the snacks delicious, but the only downside was that I was seated next to a middle-aged woman and her restless toddler. I always wondered why in all my years of air travel, I had never been sat next to a remotely attractive teenage guy.

It was underwhelming to say the least.

I resisted the urge to slap the toddler across the face and plugged in my earphones, settling in for the rest of the ride. 

I was woken up fifty minutes later by the skidding of the airplane's tires on the runway followed by the pilot's announcement that we had arrived at the Sam Mbakwe Airport, Owerri, Imo state.

I tucked away my earphones and waited for the signal to disembark. 

I fired a text to my dad and mom telling them that I had safely landed and found my driver at the far end of the airport's parking lot.

After exchanging pleasantries and putting away my luggage in the trunk; we began our journey to the prestigious Abia State University.

It was a two-hour journey through dirt-tracked roads, well-constructed roads lined by rainforests on each side, and poorly-constructed roads filled with potholes.

The only worthy sights were the towering mountains surrounded by tall trees capped with luscious green leaves on wide, spread-out branches that I immediately took pictures of as we passed the signpost stating "Welcome to Uturu."

Looking out the window of the car, I let the cool October breeze blow across my face.

We reached a military checkpoint and after having our car checked by the soldiers, we made a turn in the road and the yellow gate proudly bearing "Abia state University, Uturu" in blue letters and the fences on both sides having "God's University" written with letters constructed with concrete painted blue, loomed over us. 

We drove into the school and past the inner gates which led us into the main campus.

The road was lined with soaring trees resembling oak or maple.

The administration building in front of us was a faded yellow which had turned black at the top probably due to moisture.

 I checked my phone for the map of the school and when I found it, directed my driver to turn to the right where the hostels were located.

My first visit to the school was when I came to write my post-unified tertiary matriculation examination also called the post-UTME.

I was filled with awe and wonder at how beautiful the environment was.

I had imagined having a picnic with friends on the soft grass I had seen.

Now, I began to wonder whether I was blind as we finally pulled up to the hostel area.

The buildings we passed looked like they hadn't been renovated since they were first built.

They were all painted yellow with maroon at the head casing of the windows.

Refuse was piled beside one of the hostels called "Hostel B" and also behind the other hostels I had been previously told by a church fellowship member who was trying to recruit me, were named "Emergency Hostels." 

Apparently, boys exclusively had two main hostels lazily named "Hostel A and Hostel B" and girls also exclusively had seven hostels named Hostels "C, E, F, G, H, I and Algon." Hostel A, B, C, and Algon were all huge story buildings while the rest, particularly the emergency hostels, were bungalows.

There was one inclusive hostel for both boys and girls named "Abiola Hostel" which was also a bungalow and that was the hostel I was drafted into during my online registration.

It did not look as bad from the outside as I stepped out of the car that was parked under a big, canopy tree.

I brought out my entire luggage and proceeded to the hostel.

My friends had previously informed me that during their move into their hostels, they had to register with the porter showing their proof of school fees and hostel payment to bed and be shown to their assigned rooms so I used that information and headed to the small office inside the hostel which I correctly assumed was the porter's office.

After completing all formalities and bidding my driver goodbye.

I lugged all my belongings into my assigned room.

The porter's office was right beside the spacious "common room" which I noticed had a television inside; the boy's area was separated from the girl's by a walkway with the sandy, open-air courtyard housing clothing lines on each side.

I dragged my suitcase and bags across the walkway towards the inner building.

My room was situated at the right-wing of the building, and huffing and puffing, I wrestled the door to my room open.