Browsing Tag



March 8, 2016

I Was Used

This evening, I sat down at CEC quadrangle and couldn’t help but noticed a boy and a girl holding hands in a lovey-dovey manner. I was enjoying my bottle of chilled star alone looking rather aloof. I smiled as I watched these lovebirds who, I suppose are students of this university, giggling at each others joke. The girl was tall, beautiful and elegantly dressed. The guy who was obviously enjoying her company had a goatee; he was probably five feet-four and was putting on a well starched white shirt and black trousers. He looked like those pharmacy students who are either in their final or penultimate year. As for the girl, it was difficult to guess which department she was from. But, there was something remarkable about her_____ she was wearing the kind of hairstyle that Florence wore most of the time in our undergraduate days. Did I just say ‘our’…? I mean her undergraduate days. I had to correct that statement because, although Florence is now a graduate, I’m still an undergraduate despite the fact that we were supposed to have graduated the same time.

When I boycotted the 45th convocation ceremony of the University of Nigeria, I spent the whole evening crying a room. It was supposed to be my convocation, a happy moment but there I was blubbering like a child. And because I knew a lot of persons would be calling to ‘congratulate’ me, I switched off my phone because I didn’t want anything to remind me of how badly I had failed. I didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that I’m not graduating with my set. As my mates were at Nsukka celebrating, I curled up on the bed in my Uncle’s visitor’s room playing blues. I choose to visit Uncle Goddy at that time because I know that his house would afford me the kind of solitude I needed. His children were all grown ups and outside the country except for his last child, Kaodilichukwu, who is in Abuja in search of greener pasture. As Uncle Goddy and his wife were hardly around, I had all the time in the world to cry.

Having witnessed three covocations in my days as an undergrate, I know how ecstatic and blissful the atmosphere can be but, on that convocation Friday, there I was at Independence Layout in a ‘kingly’ apartment bemoaning while my mates were having fun as they waited to collect a certificate that would certify that they had passed in both character and learning. I felt really bad when on that night, I logged onto facebook and saw pictures of friends and classmates on their convocation gowns and well tailored suit. I was ashamed for having failed myself and family.

After crying my eyes out, I sat down thinking about what really happened. Where did I get it wrong? Why would someone who started his academic pursuit on a GPA of 4.5 not graduate with his set? Then it struck me!

My problem was Florence (or should I say Karma?). I met Florence at the later part of my second year in the university. She’s dark in complexion with a pointed nose that would make you think that she would be among the first to give up if God decided to reduce the oxygen in the air and makes it breath-in-as-much-as-your-nose-can-accommodate. She was in Biological Sciences and I was (or should I say, I am) in the Faculty of Physical sciences? One thing leading to another we became too familiar. Fast forward to 3rd year. Although I was no longer in first class, I was in a comfortable 2:1. I started loosing grip of myself when she started spending weekends in my house. I loved her company and she enjoyed the commitment, the love and, of course, the money I ‘lavished’ on her.

Things became a lot more lively when Florence came into my life but my academic began to suffer. Put it this way, the joy that she brought into my life was the bane of my academics. I started skipping lectures when she moved into my apartment. I was so fond of her that sometimes, when I’m in class I find it difficult refraining from thinking about her. This continued until in my third year second semester exam, I failed a prerequisite course. Those in Physical science, especially the department of Pure and Industrial Chemistry will understand what a prerequisite course means; once you goof in them, its an automatic extra year.

To make matters worse, Florence broke up with me in final year. I was heart broken because she couldn’t give me any singular reason why she doesn’t want to hang out with me again. She just said she was tired of being in a relationship and that she needed sometime to think about her life.

My X, Florence graduated with 2:2 in record time and was at the convocation. It was on that Convoc night, when I saw hundreds of pictures of hers on facebook that if dawned on me that I had not unfriended her. I had delected her from my mind when I heard from the grapevine that she was engaged to the son of a politician. I became vindictive, when I heard a week ago that she would be getting married this Easter. However, what’s my greatest concern right now is to write this my carry-over and leave this environment for good.

Sitting down in CEC quadrangle, and not knowing what to expect from the carry-over course that I have on Tuesday, I was reminded of Florence again by those two lovebirds who were lost in the company of each other.

As I stole a glance at them, my prayer is that their love story shouldn’t end like mine.

We received this write up last night in our e-mail It was supposed to constitute in the series of our Friday Night Stories but we just couldn’t wait for Friday to come before sharing the story, especial when we consider the fact that for some Fridays now we’ve not shared any story. We hope you learned one or two things from this true life story. Please, don’t fail to share this story. You maybe helping someone’s life by doing so.

We encourage you to e-mail your own stories to us at:

See all stories in the Friday Night Stories series here =>

The Diary of Nobody Part 2

February 5, 2016

Sequel to the story we shared on Friday, February 29th, Mr. Nobody has this to say. Make sure you read The Diary Of Nobody Part 1 before diving to this.

I left Mary Slessor last Friday feeling very angry with myself. I felt stupid that I followed her to her hostel but could not get her name or her number. Why are girls like this? I thought on my way home. I couldn’t relax when I got to my lodge that night. I was forced to share my experience with my roommate. I wanted to hear his opinion and probably have him advise me on what to do.

Stan (not his real name) laughed me to scorn when I told him that I left my change and didn’t finish my food just to get the attention of a girl.

“Guy, na wa for you o. I been think say you no get time for girls.”

“Stan, this one is different; I just couldn’t stop myself from going after her. It was like the force of gravity was pulling me towards her.”

“Do you know one thing I like about you, Nobody? You have grade one in expressing yourself, and I think this quality would do you a lot of good when you’re with these girls.” I thought Stan’s statement was a compliment until he said, “Idiot! If gravity dey pull you towards her why e no pull you follow her enter her hostel until she gives you her number or at least her name?”

I stood staring at Stan like a complete Idiot. Why did I even tell him about this? I thought. You know the feeling you have when your friends scorn you at a point you’re expecting some soothing words from them. That feeling you have when they make jokes out of something you consider serious.

I didn’t know what I was expecting to hear from Stan but I at least wanted him to suggest to me what I should do next but he spent the entire night laughing at me. He made me feel like a fool but the girl I met at Frenzy was the reason behind my foolishness. If only she had given me her number; if only she had given me her name.

Since our first year, I and my roommate had always gone for night class on Fridays. So, when he was done laughing at me, he asked me to get ready so that we would leave for night swotting. I bluntly told him that I was not in the mood for night class.

He gave me a look of surprise and then said, “O boy, you have to be careful o.”

When he noticed that I was angry he added, “These creatures with braided hair and faces immersed in heavy make-up can go a long way in making or marring a man. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that they, to a great extent, decided what we guys graduate with at the end of our stay here.”

“So, he continued, “If you want to be a player, be ready for what comes with…”

“Stan, you’re an Idiot!” I went hystrical. “Ibu anu Mpama!”

“Guy, take it easy! Why you dey insult me na?”


I had a squabble with my roommate but when he left for night class it dawned on me that the reason why I’ve not had a girl friend all these while was because I chose a staunch Deeper Life member as my roommate. My life had been these way; when my departmental guys finishes urging me to make a move, I come home to have the fire they set in me doused by my roommate who’s a Born Again Christian. I’ve been like someone in the middle of ‘Lucifer’ and ‘Christ’ tugging me to either side. Honestly, these two sets of people, my roommate and my class mates influence me greatly. Although I’ve been very careful not to tilt to either side, on the Friday night I encountered the mysterious girl, I was ready to go to any length. However, what my roommate failed to understand was that I was not talking about becoming a philanderer; I’m just someone who fell in love at first sight.

Stan inspires me in ways that he can’t even fathom but I’m not ready to become as religious as he is. And I’m also not ready to let go of him as my roommate. He’s in Biochemistry, I’m in Economics; he’s religious, I’m not that religious but we connect like pals. I had thought he would understand my disposition last Friday but when he failed to do I decided to put my experience in writing. Surprised? Yes, I decided to write about my experience not because of the pretty girl I met in Frenzy but because of my roommate who failed to understand me. Now you have a glimpse of what I mean when I say that he inspires me. I care about his opinion but as for going back to Slessor in search of this girl that stole my heart, my mind was already made up.

When Stan left for night class last Friday, I lay still in bed trying to justify my actions. When I couldn’t sleep after rolling from one end of the mattress to the other, I turned my rechargeable lantern on and started writing. I sent my write up to various online portals but was lucky that UNNINFO published it almost immediately. I’ve followed the comments on the page and from what I gathered, a greater number of people want me to continue this foray.  In response to that, this is what happened when I got to Slessor this evening.


I was feeling awkward when I got to Mary Slessor around 7:40pm. I stood at the entrance of the hostel, just at the spot where I saw her last Friday thinking of what to do exactly. What did I even come here? I thought. My eyes peered through in the semi darkness trying to see if she was standing around. A few students where standing in a pair of a boy and a girl when I made my way to the canteen. Just then it occurred to me that my mystery girl could have a boy friend. I was however ready to take my chances.

I got to the canteen, sat down and asked for a bottle of soft drink and snacks. I sat there nibbling at my snack and hoping that she would appear from the blue. I was hoping that she read my story on UNN INFO and had seen where I mentioned that I’m coming in search of her. I sat there keenly observing the faces of all the girls that came into the canteen. I must mention that the Canteen attendant, whose name I think is Amara is quite a jovial person. I sat there listening to him crack jokes with almost all the girl that came into the canteen but after close to an hour my mystery girl didn’t show up.

Well, thanks to all those that had time to go through my story. If you’re a girl and you’re in Mary Slessor Hall, please help spread my story because you never can tell, your roommate may just be the girl I’m looking for.

Nne, it’s true that you’ve eluded me twice but you’re still in my radar. We may not have had time to get to know each other but one thing about me is that I hardly give up. And, for the record, I joined my roommate in night class today.


January 29, 2016

The Diary Of Nobody.

I was minding my business eating a plate of Santa and Oha soup that I had to queue up for minutes to buy. The main reason why I hardly eat out at Frenzy is because of long queues especially at rush hour and, of course, the lackadaisical attitude of the attendants.

However, on this Friday evening I defiled all odds and when I had settled down to eat, I’ve only swallowed a handful of morsel when I was distracted. Guess what happened? A smashingly beautiful girl made a regal entrance into the eatery. She caught my attention so badly that I forgot the taste of the food in my mouth. I gazed at her admiringly as she took her place on the queue. As Cupid would have it, this damsel walked in alone. So, I said a silent prayer in my mind. You know what my prayer was about? I prayed that she would take the sit next to mine when she’s served. This girl is so beautiful that I noticed some guys staring at her as she stood waiting for her turn. I became uneasy and scared that if I don’t act fast someone else would cease my opportunity. Of course I know how fast most guys can be in making acquaintance with pretty ladies. At this point, I stopped eating and what was going on in my mind was to join her in the queue.

Before you misunderstand me, I’m not a Casanova or a womanizer like you’re thinking right now. In fact, maybe I should tell you a little about myself.

I got admission to study Economics at the University of Nigeria (the only University in Nigeria, others are Secondary School) after trying unsuccessfully to get Law for two years. I am in my two 200level and my GPA after two semesters is 4.8. I am in my twenties and I’ve never had a girl friend. Well, let me put it this way, I have female friends but I’ve NEVER had intimate relationship with any girl. The little I know about relationship is from the stories told by my male friends. I should also mention that they make fun of me about being too scared to approach girls. In my opinion, I don’t consider myself shy but in the presence of girls especially the ones I have crush on, I just can’t help but lose my wit. I think the problem is from my village. LOL.

Although I read a lot but I just can’t remember the Philosopher that said that the death of fear lies in doing the things that scare us. Some of the male friends I have in my class, in their bid to help me, keep pointing out the girls that they think have a crush on me. They said that going for a girl that has a soft spot for me will make my work easier; you won’t have to spend all your energy and resources trying to woo her. That’s their opinion but, as for me, each time we’re in the class or maybe walking home after lectures and they tell me to approach girl A or B I simply tell them that I don’t have time for girls now until I at least get to my third year. This is not because I can’t handle both academic and relationship stress, I simply don’t have time for shenanigans. Truth be told, for the little time that I’ve spent in this glorified den of lions and lionesses, I’ve come to find out that what most girls are looking for are ATM machines and not relationship. As for the guys, even the blind knows that what most of them are looking for in a girl is her ‘Bermuda Triangle’. No wonder, the moment a guy meets a girl today before one finishes saying Jack Robinson, they’re already living together. Tufiakwa this generation! Well, this will be a story for another day.

When I failed to secure admission to study Law in UNN, I vowed that I’ll make a first class in Economics; God helping me. To say that I’m scared that going into a relationship especially at this stage would make me not achieve this dream of mine is somewhat correct. However, the moment she walked into Frenzy and my eyes caught up with hers this evening, everything changed. I forgot that I was even a student.

I was still thinking of whether to join her on the queue when it got to her turn. She bought what she wanted and turned to leave. I was disappointed when I discovered that her food was packaged in a takeaway bag. As I sat staring at her like someone who have seen a strange creature, she walked passed me and headed to the exit. On the spur of the moment, I hastily washed my hands, took my bag and dashed out of Frenzy forgetting to collect my change. Honestly, I didn’t just know what came over me. Who would believe that I, the Economist (and at that moment hungry) would leave my food to go after a girl who I don’t even know her name?

As I hurried after her, I kept thinking of how to spark up a conversation. “Hello, my name is Nobody and I think I like you. Hello, do you mind if I walk you? Hello, are you a student of this school…” Honestly, I know I’m smart and I have a lot going on so well for me, but when it comes to spinning a girl, my heart beats so fast that I forget what to say sometimes.

I kept trailing behind her but I summoned on courage when it was obvious that she would soon enter her hostel.

“H-e-l-l-o” I-I-I think you look like someone I know,” I struggle to say when I was within a close range.

“Someone you know?” she turned to look at me “Well, I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“But I’ve seen you before,” I interjected.

“Of course you may have seen me before; after we’re in the same school and I walk the length and breadth of this school everyday. Chances are that we’re bumped into each other. But since you’re too eager in letting me know where we met, I’m all ears.”

“You make it sound like you’re Natasha Obama, or should I say, Zarah Buhari,” I made a joke and started smiling. To my surprise, this damsel that I left my food and my change to pursue frowned and turned to leave.

“Come on, I’m sorry; it was only a joke,” I apologized. I think we got off on the wrong foot, Well, my name is Nobody (name not real) and..?”

“Young man, I’m not interested in what your name is; as a matter of fact, I have food in this bag that’s getting cold every minute I stand here trying to figure out who you are and where we’ve met.”

“That’s rude!” I blurted out. “Since its obvious that this would be a waste of both your time and mine, I think I should just turn and leave. Let’s just pretend we never had this conversation,” I turned to leave.

“Wait, wait,” she said. “I think you should finish what you started,” she said with a smile

I was so happy when she urged me to finish what I started. Maybe this is going to work, I thought.

“Should I tell you the truth?” I began, ”We’ve actually not met but I was correct when I said that I’ve seen you before.”

“Ehm,” she said impatiently.

“I saw you for the first time a couple of minutes ago when you walked into Frenzy to buy the food you’re carrying. The moment I saw you, I just knew I won’t forgive myself if I don’t get the chance of speaking with you.”

“what did you say your name is again?”

“Nobody” I replied enthusiastically.

“Well, Nobody, you’ve had that chance. Although I’m not Natasha or Zarah but at least, having spoken to me you can now go home and forgive yourself.” Saying those words, she hastened up and disappeared into Mary Slessor. I suppose that’s her hostel. But before she entered Slessor, I apologized and asked for her name and her number. She said she was in a bad mood but that if I’m lucky, the next time we meet she would tell me her name and maybe give me her number.

Eziokwu Eziokwu, boys don suffer for this world. We’ve been suffering since the time of Adam and Eve. Sometimes I have a problem with the way these girls, especially the pretty ones treats us like shit. That notwithstanding, I’m sure today would not be my last visit to Mary Slessor. In fact, for now I’ll make it my favourite female Hostel. I’ll continue this story next Friday, Feb. 5. Who knows, I may be lucky to make this girl that appeared in Frenzy and disappeared in Slessor my Val come Feb. 14th. Nne, in case you’re reading this story, I’m sorry I had to go this far. But be rest assured that I won’t divulge your name (if I eventually get to find out what name you bear) or any of you personal information. And, I’ll stop this write up on how things turned out between you and I if you ask me to. I don’t know if I should say this here, “Next Friday evening, I’ll be at the Canteen in Slessor hoping to see you again. Do have a wonderful weekend. And please, when next we meet, try and make things a little easier for me.”

This story was sent to us on our e-mail: by an anonymous sender. If you have a story, particularly, an experience you want to share with the university community, send it to the aforementioned e-mail. If we consider it worthwhile, it will be published in our new series FRIDAY STORIES STORIES which, henceforth will come up via this medium every Friday night. We hope that from the experience of people we share here, you will learn one or two things. In the main time, take your academics seriously.


  • Do you think Mr. Nobody made a mistake in approaching the girl he saw at Frenzy?
  • Do you think the girl was rude in anyway?
  • Should a guy approach a girl he has not met before?
  • What is the best manner/method of approach?
  • Should Mr. Nobody go back in search of the girl

You can answer these questions by way of letting us know your take on the comment box. Please, try as much as possible not to attack or insult people whose stories we share.

Remember, Mr Nobody promised to keep us informed as the story unfolds… 😉

Update: Part 2 Now Out! Check it out here >>


March 25, 2015

My CBT Experience

On that Tuesday morning, my heart was beating like that of an athlete that had just finished running a Marathon. I tried to focus but the noise from other students who were standing beside me made it even more difficult. Just then my eyes rested on the face of a girl who was looking more like an angel. Naughty thoughts started flying into my head. I thought of what it would be like to have her as my girl friend. I even imagined what it would look like to plant my lips on hers. The mere thought of kissing her succulent lips which was dabbed in red lipstick filled me with goose pimple. What would those lips taste like? I thought.
I was jerked out of thought by a pudgy–looking man who, standing very close to me, shouted, “Good morning students! You’re all welcome to this centre. As you’ll be going in for your exam very soon, we urge you to play by the rule. Please be informed that you’re not required to go into the hall with anything, even your wristwatch…” The man went on to instruct us on what we should and shouldn’t do. It was then it dawned on me that I was in for a serious business_____ JAMB CBT Examination.
When the man was done, I lifted my eyes but couldn’t see that Seraphic figure I had seen earlier. I made a little effort at searching for her with my eyes but she was nowhere to be found. Then, I decided to channel my thought towards remembering all that I had read in the course of preparation for the Exam.
Standing on a queue as we waited to be searched and ushered into the hall, I started thinking about the character, Jimi, in The Last Days at Forcados High School “Is there anyone who’s really that smart?” Jimi was so much a perfect character that I disliked his person. He is so much unlike me who had had to write JAMB four times. Yes, I’m very good in sports but academically I will like to rate myself as average. I had always wanted to study Law but JAMB and PUTME won’t just let me be. They have been the two enemies that kept conspiring against me since I left Secondary school. Imagine, yours truly had written JAMB three times, and on that fatefully Tuesday morning I was on the queue for the fourth JAMB. To make matters worse, it was going to be CBT. Probably because JAMB had earlier said that starting from 2015 her exams would be computer based for all candidates, I did not joke with my preparing. Also I promised myself that I wasn’t just going to get admission; I would, in the near future be one of the best Lawyers this country would ever see.
I have often heard people say that one becomes a failure when he stops trying. In that vein, I think I’m already a success because I refused to give up all those years. And, I won’t stop trying until a University in this country (preferably the university of Nigeria, Nsukka) gives me admission to study law. Be that as it may, on the eve of the day I wrote JAMB this year, my dad came into my room and told me that this will be the last time he would have to give me money for JAMB exam. This was after mum had come to encourage me and wish me the best. She even said she was impressed with the way I had been preparing and that God’ll see me through this time around. My dad is so much unlike my mum. In fact, in dad’s exact words he said, “if you like go there and mess up again. All I know is that if you don’t get admission this year then get ready because I’ll be sending you to my friend in Onitsha where you’ll learn a trade.”
Having been threatened or should I say cautioned by my father, I went to my centre the next morning feeling very scared. And, in a bid to assuage my fears God sent me a very pretty girl who, unfortunately I never got to know her name even when fate gave her to me on a platter. Providence, they say, sometimes meets people when they least expect it.
The journey to my CBT center, of course did not end on the queue where I was bored listening to a pudgy-looking man. Guess what? When I entered the hall and had seated in front of my computer, the next person that showed up beside me was that petty damsel I had seen outside. A cold chill ran down my spine. My seat number was 76 while hers was 77. The moment she sat down something told me that Cupid had something in stock for me. However, I decided to pretend like I did not notice her until I was through with my exam. The things my dad told me the previous night about this being my last JAMB were echoing in my ears.
Within what seemed like an hour after we had started exam, that pretty girl tapped me on the shoulder and asked, almost in a whisper, if I knew the answers to a question in literature. She said she had not read the novel. I think it was a question from Chimamanda’s Purple Hibiscus. Of course I hastily attended to her and even more or less pleaded with her to call my attention any time she needs me. Tufia! Women have so much influence over us the male counterparts.
To cut long story short, although I’m unlike Jimi, the young man who portrayed as an academic giant in The Last Days At Forcados High School, I helped my pretty neigbour as much as I could. Incidentally, she wrote exactly my subject combination but I discovered that she’s not that good with Christian Religious knowledge. Honestly, I really thank God that I prepared thoroughly for that exam if not I would have embarrassed myself before that angelic figure.
While in the hall, I had already strategized on how to get her phone number the moment we finished. My heart was leaping with Joy as I concluded the exam. Probably because I wasn’t computer literate, that pretty girl who I suppose grew up with a silver spoon in her month submitted before me. Out of courtesy, she told me that she was leaving but then that pudgy-looking fellow standing very close to us as he tried to help sort out my computer issues. I smiled and told her I would meet her outside in a jiffy. Guess what happened after then?
Just in a space of a minute or two I rushed outside after submitting only to see that lovely girl entering a Murano Jeep. I beckoned on her, and when I got closer a woman who I suppose was her mum was sitting on the driver’s seat. She had this prying look in her eyes. At that moment I became confused and the next thing was that I heard myself asking the girl if she finished. She smiled radiantly and said yes. I didn’t know how to go about asking her for her number in front of her mother so, I simply wished her the best. I can’t even believe that my voice was quivering while I did that. In fact, it was as if my senses took leave of me when I sighted the mean-looking woman.
The woman behind the wheel did not utter a single word. The look in her eyes was threatening so I tried to avoid eye contact with her. It dawned on me a little late that I had not greeted her, but when I did she did not respond. Instead she drove off with her daughter waving and smiling at me. Honestly, I felt like running after the car.
Well, I have gotten over that incident. At least, if not for anything the JAMB score I received via a text the next morning was rewarding. All I’m asking God now is to give me the same grace he gave me when I was preparing for JAMB. I need the same grace to get myself ready for PUTME. Also, I’m hoping that that pretty damsel who sat beside me during JAMB would show up on my PUTME day. Funny enough I didn’t also get the opportunity of asking her the school she applied.
God Bless 2015 JAMB Candidate!!!
Written By Kaodilichukwu

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Obinna’s Story

February 4, 2015

My Journey To The University Of Nigeria


I can’t tell how happy I was when I heard that the University of Nigeria____ I mean the only University in Nigeria, had given me admission. If I remember correctly, I screamed and shouted as if I had just won an Oscar or a Nobel Prize. You may not understand how I felt on that day unless you, like me, had to write that exam they call JAMB four times or more. Seriously, that examination board dealt with me. They made me look like a prodigal son before me parents who, I’m sure were sick and tired of seeing me around. In my street, I was turned into an object of caricature as some friends laughed and mumbled any time they saw me pass. It was so bad that after my third JAMB which was seized, the year my girl friend who just came out of Secondary School gained admission, I decided to leave Enugu (Abakpa) for Onitsha where my elder sister lives with her husband.

It’s not like I’m not intelligent. In my class at the Community Secondary School where I obtained my WASSCE in one sitting, I was the smartest kid there. I never struggled for first position read. In fact, I still remember they dubbed me ‘Machine Brain’ (MB for short) in my secondary school days. However, JAMB made me had a re-think about my abilities after they ‘jammed’ me many times. During those days one thing I did was that after each unsuccessful trial, I increased my study life. Things were so bad that sometimes at night I hear my mum pray that every Goliath that is against my getting admission should fall down and die. I must also mention that we’re of the Mountain of Fire extract.

Don’t ask me about my sojourn to Onitsha because if I talk about it this write up would be too lengthy that you may not have the desire to continue reading. Having said that, one remarkable thing that happened in Onitsha was that my sister’s husband incessantly encouraged me to forget about going to school and join him in his business. He even promised that he would settle me just after three years plus some other mouth-watering offers he made to me as an in-law. He said one doesn’t need to go to the University to be successful. One thing my i-law said that got to me was that the University is for ndi nwere isi akwukwo.

To cut the long story short, I did not just do well in my fourth JAMB, I smashed PUTME and here I am today studying Pharmacy.
I still find it difficult to believe that my Matric is coming Saturday (Feb 7th). In fact, my parents had already called to say that they are coming with coolers of assorted delicacy and drinks. Rice and stew would be plenty on that day. As for my in-law, somebody should help me tell him that I would go to school and also be a successful.
Congratulations to all those celebrating their matric this Saturday. It’s your homeboy, Obinna (a.k.a MB) writing from the Faculty of Pharmaceutical Sciences.

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October 24, 2014


Jambite diary of chike the jambite

Ozoemena stood in front of the mirror in the one room apartment he rented four years ago. He examined his beard which appears to be growing rapidly as his mind raced through the recent happening in his life.
Life had been very hard for him in the village and, as a result of that he came to Enugu in a hurry. Like most people, he did not come to the city to look for greener pastures; he came to see if he would raise a little money so that he could pursue his academic dreams. His days in the village were characterized by dreams_____ yes, he incessantly dreamt of being a medical doctor. It was so real that in the last dream he had four years ago, he saw himself in the theatre operating on a patient. On the early hours of that morning he woke up sweating like a goat that had just finished running a marathon.

Ozoemena came to Enugu a week after his last dream and found a job a fortnight thereafter. Two years after that, from the little money he made from working as a waiter in a popular hotel in the city, he rented a small apartment at a slummy area in Abakpa and moved out of the one room apartment he shared with a friend. This was the beginning of Ozoemena’s pursuit of the main reason he came to the city. He registered for extramural lesson at Ogba_____ a place that was very close to Penoks bus stops; just twenty five minutes’ walk from the ghetto he calls his neighbourhood. As a student in Ogba, Ozoemena made friend with people who are enthusiastic about their education; young men and women who probably are still in secondary school or just left school and have written JAMB once or twice. At that notorious lesson centre, they had two major groups_____ those who are still in school and those who have left secondary school and have written JAMB for a number of times that is only known by the individual in question. Ozoemena did not fit into any of that group because unlike others, he finished secondary school in his village two years ago but never taken JAMB. He did not take JAMB exam the year after his WASSCE because he lost his father to a mysterious sickness in the village. In fact, the young Ozoemena was still mourning the death of his father when WAEC result was released. Losing his father who was a farmer was so painful that he did not even celebrate the fact that he cleared his papers.

Although Ozoemena was one quiet kid who did not have a girl friend, and could not be likened to most boys at Ogba lesson centre, he joined the group of boys that were fondly referred to as having been jammed by JAMB. This group was congregated by people who have written the exam more than once. He prepared himself the best way he could, combining both going for lesson in the afternoon and keeping up with his job as a waiter in the evening.
Time flew like it knows how to do, and Ozoemena wrote his first JAMB. When the result came out, what he saw was better kept in his heart than shared with anyone. Although it cannot be said conclusively that Ozoemena performed woefully in his first JAMB but what he scored at both JAMB and Post UTME were not enough to give him the course he applied_____ Medicine. The ambitious Ozoemena encouraged himself and at every point, he gave his best to his studies.

Standing in front of the mirror in an apartment he rented four years ago, Ozoemena was touching his beards as his mind raced on how fast time flies. In few months time it would be his fifth year in the city and all he could boast of was the little money in his bank account and the ones he sends to his mother every time he received his salary. His dream of being a medical doctor has not completely died but it will take a miracle to keep him focused if he does not get admission when the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, releases her supplementary list and his name is not there. Although he scored 300 in Post UTME and made 238 in JAMB, he could not tell why he was not shortlisted in the merit list.
He had applied medicine like always, but this time he got the N10,000 supplementary form and shopped for Zoology after being advised by a friend.
“Well, they have forced me to opt for zoology at a time when Zoos are rapidly disappearing from this country. God knows that education will go to hell if the VC doesn’t give me admission this time!” Ozoemena mused.


This Article was Written By ORDINARY JUSTICE (a.k.a O. Just). We hope you enjoyed it.

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