So, we parked the car in the parking lot... well, under the trees opposite Mozambique hall actually and stiffly emerged from the car. I can use words like trepidation, nervousness, terror and outright horror to describe that moment, but they wouldn't do it justice. See, I am an only child who grew up in the basically quiet and serene environments of the Benue plateau. Nothing prepared me for the constant hubbub of voices here, the gorgeously dressed dads and mums with their jean clad daughters dragging their cute luggage items through the dust, all eagerly dashing across the road to...to Moz.
In this nearly dreamlike state, I followed my parents to the porters' lodge and being the gentle Benue dwellers we are, we stood quietly waiting for our turn to speak to the porters. It didn't take us five minutes to realize that this was not going to work. After a couple of sharp lagosians had brushed by us and yelled at the porters ahead of us, my mum smartly grabbed my arm and shoved me in front of one of the porters and we added our voices to the growing cacophony too.
Well, after some mild gymnastics, I was done with the registration and handed over to a dark, slightly plump, short girl with merry eyes who introduced herself as Sheri, one of the Moz hall student exco who she explained were usually made up of new part 2 students who had lived in Moz the previous year. Two years? Here? I shuddered. Sheri led my mum and I through the gates of this 'famous hall' that I had never heard about. I mean, dad only mentioned exciting names like Moremi, Fajuyi and Awolowo halls. It was obvious that Moz Hall was not yet built when my dad schooled in Ife. You only had to see the difference in the structure to realize this did not have the stamp of well... halls like Moremi, Faj and Awo which all had the look of the time period of Nigeria that produced great structures like the Eko bridge, TBS, and... you get the gist.
Sheri led us to the last room of the next block, Room O10. To my skeptical eyes, it was just about okay for four girls, since I noticed there were four lockers in the corners of the spacious, empty room. The chatty Sheri was still talking nineteen to the dozen about room mates and keeping my box locked at all times and claiming a toilet for the room at the end of the building and locking it up before the few good toilets were taken (??) so we wouldn't have to be begging other rooms to give us their toilet key (?!) and the nearby well when water was scarce (??!) and double bunks (???!).
Double bunks???!!! I sighed as the room shrank by fifty percent before my gloomy eyes. So that would mean eight and not four girls to the room, I mentally calculated. Two girls to a locker I supposed. Still manageable. I had squatted with a friend in my former university back in Benue so it wasn't anything new. Hey, but Sheri was still chattering. By now, she was standing outside the room directing a couple of scrawny looking boys who were helping her drag in some double bunk beds.
Mum and I were examining the four corners of the room so I could choose a corner that didn't have broken windows (which they all did by the way) when I noticed the little boys were bringing in a fifth bunk.
'The room is full already.' I said waving them back.
'Aunty Sheri say make we bring am o.' they replied, still eagerly dragging and pulling in the fifth bunk. Mum and I rolled our eyes at each other and shrugged. They would be forced to carry out the extra bunk when 'Aunty Sheri' returned.
Just as they finished dragging in the fifth bunk, 'Aunty Sheri' returned.
'Sheri,' I said, 'these boys didn't realize the bunks were already complete and they brought in a fifth bunk!'
'Oh, that's ok.' she said, then turned to the boys,'The sixth bunk dey outside, oya go bring am too!'
And just like that, the room shrank to nothing before my eyes. Six bunks? Meaning twelve girls in a room meant for four?! Oh, and that was when Sheri cheerfully explained that in most rooms, not less than six of the girls took on their friends as squatters. So basically, you ended up with about eighteen to twenty girls in that room meant for ...four girls. Oh, and did I mention, jambitos (part one students) like us were not even entitled to a corner with the actual room lockers. No, we were only entitled to a flying space (the upper level bunk) or any of the floating extra bunks in the center of the room all of which necessitated buying a little wooden locker where you kept your stuff!!!
This day, my first in one of the greatest institutions of higher learning in my country gave me a tiny glimpse into the depth of the decay of our infrastructural heritage. I went on to have a great five years in school and yes I did spend two surprisingly happy years in Moz of those five. I fetched water from that very well and I lived at one point with fourteen roommates in one of those rooms meant for four girls.
But all in all, I can still proudly declare, I am a proud Naija graduate. I squatted with my friend when I didn't get accommodation, and my friend squatted with me when she didn't get one either. I fetched water from the well and I studied with rechargeable lamp and candles in Awo cafe and Moremi buttery. However, there were some early mornings on my way to class before the sun was fully peeking over the hill behind my school when I would be walking by Amphi theater or Moremi or Fajuyi hall when I would for a few moments glimpse that majesty of days gone by of which my father spoke. Indeed, amidst the shadows of those great hallways you could nearly hear the echoes of the great ones who strode through the land in years gone by and who went on to write the history of the greatest nation in Africa.
Nikky is finally blogging,niceee
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