After writing the university matriculation examination on three occasions, getting admitted to the University of Ilorin was a great relief. At least, the era of procuring JAMB forms, attending JAMB preparatory classes, criss crossing universities for “admission list” and other admission-seeking troubles were over.
If I thought the university system was going to be less stressful, the experience on my first day on campus gave an indication that it wasn’t going to be a rosy journey to earn the certificate.
It was the resumption date for “Jambites” (Freshers). As early as 5:30 am, I was already at the Ojoo Motor Park, Ibadan. With my bag resting on my laps as I sat confidently in the Ilorin-bound vehicle, I took another look at my credentials — secondary school results and admission letter. They were intact.
Due to the then deplorable nature of the Ibadan-Ilorin road, I didn’t arrive at the Mini-Campus of the school until about 11:00 am. I made my way assuredly to the Faculty of Arts. I was greeted with a large crowd of fellow “Jambites” on different queues. After making enquiries, I joined that of the department I was admitted to — Linguistics.
The process of particulars verification and other registration requirements were simply tedious. We had to sign various forms in different offices and photocopied many papers in business centres around the campuses, amidst other stressful activities. By the time the process was over, it was impossible to stick with my initial plan of returning to Ibadan that day.
The next challenge was where to pass the night. I barely had enough money with me aside my fare back to Ibadan. I didn’t know any relation around that I could put up with. The reality of a humble background was hitting me hard.
Help eventually came. A christian brother that was on hand to help ease the stress of registration of the freshers earlier in the day was the good Samaritan. He sympathized with me and took me to one of his friends residing in the hostel. After explaining my plight, he offered to accommodate me for the night.
Though the pang of hunger was dealing my system a heavy blow, the thought of finally getting a place to sleep suppressed it. Due to the stress of the day, succumbing to the lure of sleep was very easy. I covered my body with a wrapper my ‘landlord” offered me against, as he put it, “the merciless mosquitoes”. I assured him I would cope. He wished me a good night and left as he had earlier informed that he would pass the night with a friend.
I quickly switched off the light but the initial sign that the night was going to be a turbulent one manifested soon as I heard some mosquitoes ‘singing’ around my ears. I swiftly dismissed this, looking forward to a deserved sleep.
But the mosquitoes had other plans. I covered the whole of my body with the wrapper but the assault began with an increase in the tempo of their “singing”. I tried to ward off this but it appeared that the more determined I was to get rid of them, the more emboldened they were to thwart my night.
They moved to the next stage. Aside the whining, they progressed to ceaseless biting, from the head to the feet. And for the first time in my life, I experienced mosquito bites that pierced through the cloth covering. It was a night to forget.
When I couldn’t bear it any longer and with my sleep aborted, I resorted to fighting back. I grabbed a broom and started chasing them all over the room. It was in that process that I discovered the sources of my predicament. The door was in a bad shape, many window louvers were missing and half of the window’s mosquito net was lost. It then dawn on me that it was going to be a long-drawn battle.
Each time I felt I had “conquered” them with the broom and decided to go back to sleep, each time they regrouped for more ferocious attack. It got to a point that I couldn’t even sleep any longer. From that moment, it became a ding-dong affair between us. I was only praying for the day to break on time so I could be free. At about 5:00am when I heard the muslim call to prayer, I made for my bag and off to Ibadan I fled. I practically cursed the mosquitoes all through the 10-minute walk to the park.
Insights by Muyiwa Akande 