*BROKEN TRIANGLE.* *EPISODE 1.*
Noooooo! It was Dave screaming. I was at a loss. Split second ago, Dave was dancing to the tune of melody success played for him. We have been 3 in the room unlike other rooms in the Nnamdi's male hostel that swallowed more than 12 guys. The 3 of us were just lucky. We had become knitted like a perfect triangle than can never be broken. We had our fights and strong disagreements during the first semester but we knew better as we resumed for the second semester.

Dave, Moses and I were in our first year in the faculty of medicine.
The BIO 121(Introduction to genetics) had just been released. It was the course we all prayed to get to the cut off, as though hitting the cut off was equivalent to the MBBS certificate. Failing the course was a perfect recipe for extra year and not crossing to the medical campus. We had read for the course more than other courses with higher unit loads. We attended tutorials and engulfed the past questions like amoeba.

*BROKEN TRIANGLE.* *EPISODE 2.*
On the eve of the exam, our eyes knew no sleep. We drank concentrated hot, bitter coffee. Some students read on the road as our destiny were glued to the exam.

Our lecturers did not help the situation. Their looks and the harshness of their voices made one bade goodbye to all one had smuggled into one's exhausted brain cells. Mr Amadi had slapped Moses who was not prompt to answer when he was called. His glasses' lenses broke and that spelt torture for him. I was terrified and I knew great sadness as I could not keep my focus away from Moses who placed the exam question paper few inches away from his eyes. The exam was the toughest. Though the skies cried and poured its liquid, and the wind banged the windows, many of us bled so much sweat. Several students were caught with "omokiriri," and they were made to sign the malpractice forms, with the lecturers snapping them. It was like an achievement for a lecturer to catch a student involved in malpractice. They sure would talk about to the students that would gain admission to study medicine next year. That was the way we heard about our predecessors. It was the end of their career. Their names would be published and no other school would ever admit them. About 5 ladies passed out including our assistant course representative; who I learnt scored the highest during our post UTME. She scored 391/400.

Drops of urine found its way to my trousers as my answer sheet was taken away. In the shortest moment ever, 3 hours had collapsed. The exam had come to an end. No one had the courage to talk to another. Many cried even when the answer sheets were yet to exchange greetings with the lecturers that would score them. My seatmate Pelumi, never wrote other exams. She admitted her fate and decided to wait till next year to start all over. We forced ourselves to read as all read with fear and uncertainty. Sooner than later, the semester came to an end.

Our faculty could not hold the end of the semester party. Only few indicated interest and it was later cancelled.