Engineer Yusuf’s class was for 7am and everyone knew well to attend his class early or not bother attending if you’ll be late. I hurriedly dashed out of the hostel for my 7am class; no makeup and barely creamed my body. The time was almost 8am and Engineer Yusuf was nowhere in sight which was very unlike him.
A few minutes later, my class rep showed up and confirmed our fears; ASUU was on strike! The rumours of an imminent strike had been going round school for a while now but no one thought it serious. I had already spent a year extra in school thanks to the incessant strikes and another one was here in my finals.
But like the popular saying goes; The Nigerian student plans and ASUU laughs” The strike was confirmed. Lecturers hadn’t been paid their salaries, bonus and other benefits for over 8 months! Oh well, time to head back to my room.
As I picked my bag to head out of the lecture room, I spotted Kazeem. Kazeem or KZ for short was “the guy”! If you needed your assignments, projects, classwork, hand-outs, or lecturer “sorting’s” in the engineering department handled, KZ was your go-to guy.
KZ! I shouted from the back of the class. He turned around and I signalled for him to chill.
KZ: Ah Ah! Miss P, you remembered me today
Me: Sorry dear, I’ve had a lot on my plate lately.
KZ: I understand jare, being in final year is not easy. So wasup?
Me: I need your help o. It’s my project. I’m on chapter 1 but I’m stuck.
KZ: What are you writing on?
Me: DESIGN AND CONSTRUCTION OF A SOLAR POWERED ALARM SYSTEM.
KZ: That doesn’t sound like much work na. Okay you know what, call me later this evening so we’ll hook up. I’m heading out now to protest against the strike with the SUG guys
Me: Alright that’s fine. Is 6pm okay?
KZ: Yeah sure.
When I got back to my room, I watched a couple of Game Of Thrones episodes but slept off in the middle of it. I woke up to the sound of my ringtone but I let it ring. I wasn’t in the mood to socialize over the phone so I didn’t bother to pick.
Curling up in bed all day seemed like the perfect thing to do. A few minutes later, my other phone rang and I knew it was someone close to me because only few people had that number. I dragged myself to the reading table where it was and saw that it was my mother. She liked to talk in Igbo language and practically forced me to do likewise.
Me: Nne m Kedu? How are you Ma?
Mum: Odinma. I’m fine. Why do you sound like you’re still in bed? No lectures?
Me: ASUU went on strike today so there’s no lecture.
Mum: Strike again? How long will this on last?
Me: I don’t know o!
Mum: Ozugo. How is everything?
Me: Very well ma. I’m managing.
Mum: When last did you call your father?
Me: I’ve not had time. I will call him this evening anyways.
Mum: Ina apu ala? (Are you crazy)? What do you mean you don’t have time? Is it more than this school? My friend, you better call your father osiso if you know what is good for you!
Me: Okay ma. How is Emeka?
Mum: Onye? That one that doesn’t stay in one place? He’s there; eating all my food. I hope he passes JAMB this year because time is running out.
Me: I trust that he will. He must have learnt from his past mistakes
Mum: I pray so o! I pray so! Anyway, I just called to check on you.
Me: Daalu. I will call you too soon.
Mum: Ngwa bye bye
When I got off the phone, I checked my messages. The usual culprits had bombarded me with broadcast messages and whatsapp texts. I looked at the time, 12:15pm; I still had a few hours to snooze before my meeting with KZ in the evening. The light had gone out and so the heat woke me. I looked out the window and saw it was dark. I had overslept and missed my meeting.
Choi!
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