I’d been to Awka on different occasions, all of them while representing St. Charles College, my secondary school, in various science competitions. But I’d never gone past Arroma Junction. So there I was in the car we’d hired for the journey, huddled between my brother and Chibuike my friend, with anticipation and anxiety so perfectly blended within me, as I beheld the sea of people at the Ifite School Gate. I wasn’t the type that usually went out, and never been in such traffic jams as experienced by those in Lagos, so I was marveled at the sea of people that were at the gate. There were young people, old people, men, women, boys, girls, tall and short people, in fact, people of all categories. I kept moping like a monkey in a science lab.

We alighted at the gate and my dad promptly started calling Chidimma; she was the daughter of my mom’s friend who was already a student of Unizik. After about ten to fifteen minutes of calls and searching the sea of faces for her, we finally saw her. She was… beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen my share of beautiful girls, but there was something different about her beauty, she wasn’t like the girls I knew back in Onitsha, who were just normal beautiful girls. She was sophisticated. Yes, that’s the word, I’ve been looking for. Although she wore only a Liverpool jersey and a black jean trouser, with pink sandals, she was so cool.

The confusion at the gate was almost indescribable, we didn’t know where to begin with, and as more people trooped in, the confusion took another turn. Shortly, we were asked to stand in a straight line, and of course, students rushed in a mad frenzy to secure a space in the endless line. My father said, “Nna nọrọ ebe a. Ọ bụrọ gị ka ha ga-azọgbu” (“My son, stay here. It’s not you that they will kill in the stampede”). Of course, he need not to have told me, I knew that there was no way I could last a second in the line with the way they were pushing and cursing at each other.

We waited for an extra hour before it was the turn of those who had applied for Pharmacy to go in. Dad approached one of the people maintaining order and explained my situation to him. He gave me a once-over before beckoning that we should follow him. I bid my brother and friend goodbye while accepting their good wishes, and turned to Chidimma to accept her special good luck wish. When she said, “Good luck, Sommy,” I felt as though I’d passed the exam already and had gotten admission. She was my first in a countless number of Unizik crushes.
Dad and I boarded a keke, the popular name of the tricycle that was a major means of transport within the school. The man dad had met at the gate had told us that Pharmacy applicants were to write at Engineering Faculty. The keke man charged us N400 and we gladly agreed. Then he took us from the gate, through Science Village, to Management Faculty, to Admin, then to Engineering Faculty. All the while, I was amazed at the size of the school.

Read more on:

https://www.thezenpens.com/2019/07/03/tales-from-my-alma-mater-part-2/