Melvin
climbed the staircase to the top swerving from the students that played round
the corridors. He looked down from the balcony to the centre of the play ground
and liked the sight. Each of the rooms had a six spring iron bed set in front
of it and one suspended on the slab above the door where the students hung
their clothes to dry after washing. Some cloths were spread on the railings of
the balcony. Just like in Nkrumah Hostels, the iron beds in front of the rooms were
supposed to be inside the rooms but the boys would not like to share a bed for
two or more people; they threw out the beds and spread their mattresses on the bare
floor to make spaces for some other students who could not afford the
accommodation fee to squat with their friends. Squatting - using the school’s
hostel facilities without paying for them - was illegal, yet a great number of
the students did it. The beds being in the rooms would have made squatting
impossible. Melvin sat down on one of the spring beds along the corridor. Now
he felt like a bona fide student with nothing to be afraid of, not even the
dreaded cultists. He was feeling very sleepy. It was night. He relaxed on the
springs without a mattress and the bed shivered noisily and groaned as though
it could collapse. Melvin closed his eyes, relaxed his bones and drifted away
into sleep.
There
were all sorts of noise in the night.
“Banana
and Agidi! Banana and Agidi!” the call of a peddler penetrated into his dream.
He jerked. He didn’t wake to buy; he wanted to see how someone could be selling
such a bad combination. He didn’t see any hawker but a boy with a bucket of
water passed him still shouting the same:
“Banana
and Agidi!”
“Oh!”
he lay back disappointed.
Throughout
the night, the hall was very noisy. Somebody shouted from the left end:
“Alvan I won die!”
“Die now! Zuo!”
replied another from the right and all such disturbances followed. He woke up
very early in the morning with pains all over his body. He stood up and
stretched aching parts of his body amid very loud yawns.
“E
no easy for Ezekiel.” He muttered.
He
looked at his wrist watch, and remembered it was not functional. He sighed and
strolled down the right side of the corridor to look for where to urinate. There
was growing stench of Indian hemp towards the passage by the left that
connected Alvan Ikoku and Eni Njoku Hostels. The further he went towards the
passage the stronger the stench of a mixture of Indian hemp and cigarette that tore
into his nose. The passage was dark. He squint his eyes to make out the figures
in the darkness and he saw nothing but glowing embers. He only saw hazy figures
of human faces when the embers expanded and contracted like fire flies. A tall
boy emerged from the dark with a soap dish on the left hand, a towel on his
neck. It was the bathroom. Melvin entered the passage where the smell of the
hemp reigned supreme and it chocked him. Glowing embers of the burning hemp
moved from one side to another. Then he came close to a group of boys in a
semi-circle with wraps of the weeds changing hands. The thought of cultists crept
into his mind and shook his entire body with visible tremor.
He
liked the flavour of hemp but the over powering stench of cigarette made him
cough. Somebody laughed in the darkness and murmured what Melvin did not
understand.
He
groped in the dark till he found the lavatory at the right hand side of the
passage. He pushed the door open and strong awful smell of stale urine poured
into the passage and light from the lavatory poured out too and lit up the
passage.
“Close
that thing, zuo!” a hoarse voice growled
from behind him and he looked back and left the door to swing back. He didn’t want
to let the fears that shook his entire body show. He opened the door slightly
again and slid into the lavatory. The stench of excreta from the lavatory mixed
with the flavour of the burning hemps filled his nose. He held his nose with
his left palm. The lavatory had six bathrooms to the left, six rows of toilets
to the right and a urinary facing the door. Melvin first turned to the right, still
blocking his nose with his palms. He opened the first toilet door. The toilet
seat was filled to the brim with faeces dripping on the floor. The waste paper
basket by the side of the toilet seat was also filled, with papers strewed all
over the dirty floor. Melvin jammed the door immediately. The faeces he wanted
to pass ran back into his intestine with a rumbling noise. The second toilet
looked the same. A boy ran into the lavatory naked with his short on his left
hand and a stick of burning cigarette on his lips. The boy shoved Melvin aside
and ran into the second toilet.
‘Patapata!
Patapata’ came the sound from the toilet and Melvin wondered how the boy could
sit on the dirty toilet seat. He was yet to learn the different defecating
positions of students in UNN. He couldn’t bear the increased stench any longer.
He turned and headed towards the bathrooms. A furry fat rat scurried across to
the door towards the passage. Melvin froze. It looked nothing like the rats
that ran round their house at Aba; big and hairy, like a puppy. He continued
straight to the bathroom and entered the first one. The tiles on the walls were
shattered, leaving the wall coated with spirogyra and patches of indelible soap
foams. Melvin pulled off his cloths and hung them carefully on a protruding
shower pipe on the wall. He kept his shoes on the window. Beside the shoes was
a medicated soap. Somebody must have forgotten it there.
The
shower ran slowly and Melvin stayed for a long time in the bathroom. He was
enjoying the shower until someone shouted at him from outside.
“O boy
comot for bathroom naw mek man pikin baf. Wetin be your own gbege now?” The
undiluted pidgin of the voice outside made him hurry up. He hurriedly stopped
the shower and dried his body with his singlet and jumped out of the bathroom.
To be continued....
Nice descriptive recounting of events. But details was too vivid, I practically threw up!
ReplyDeleteThat's just cos i was trying to be real mild with it. the toilet ends are still worse than this now .
Deletejust like yesterday. good pictures, but lets do more of the positive side of the great citadel; there is always challenges on every road to success
ReplyDeletepositive is right but we mention the negative so that efforts can be mad to correct them.
DeleteA good piece you have here. I agree with Theo that said you should paint more of a positive picture of this great citadel of learning. I believe UNN is better than most federal schools I visited in terms of accommodation. In my humble opinion 'zuo' should be spelt "zuwo'. More powers to your elbow. I am happy you are doing what you really have passion for.
ReplyDeleteThanks Ebere; I would have used "Zuwo" if it is an Igbo word. however if it is an Igbo word, remember the rule of tone which implies that every vowel must have a tone. then we would end up realizing a different sound from the intended. however, as for positivism, I don't have to lie.
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ReplyDelete