Things out of UI: #TOOUI - 'The Friends'

 ~ Setting the record straight....

 

The Gates of the University of Ibadan, Oyo State

University wouldn't come without finding oneself in the company of 'friends.' I got to hear the term 'friends with benefits' for the first time while attending school in the United States. This term could denote some relationships that happen at University campus. With UI, there were classmates, hall mates and faculty mates with whom I chatted often and naturally those were whom I would call friends. But were they really friends with me? Oh, the gory memories of entitlements, folly and enmity. I'm going to talk about my friends as I remember them. I apologize in advance to anybody who could categorize as a friend but who didn't get the honourable mention. For the most part, I kept civil contacts than I would call anybody male or female a friend. Oh, the boyfriends will get their own post. The devils....

Year 1 (100 Level): I came to school from Aba without much knowledge of Yoruba culture or its people. I was going to see Ibadan for what it represented - a city housing a famous citadel of learning in far away Oyo State of Nigeria. This was 1999. Nigeria hasn't changed much, has it? A UME taken in February or March 1998 got me off with school in May, 1999. Wao! Over a year later, due to ASUU strikes and other internal conflicts. Nigeria strikes for the most mundane things. Serious issues they must be but always choosing industrial action as a course of action has destroyed this nation. I went from Mr and Mrs Ajayi's home to 'squat' with Chastmier Okoro who also housed her younger sister, Ngozi, who was ahead of her in school. While Chastmier and I were freshers (freshmen) Ngozi was nearing the end of her five-year course in Agricultural Economics. It was uncomfortable to live with the Ajayis in Abadina, in their two room apartment. It was even more uncomfortable to live with the Okoro sisters in Idia Hall as squatting was an illegal activity on the University of Ibadan campus. I tried hard to look for accommodation and through Mr Ajayi's (I would think him more than my mother's) help I went in search of the Idia Hall mistress in her home in the UI quarters and knelt to get a bed space in the Common Room. The common room was a dormitory styled room with over twenty double bunks. I didn't count, perhaps there were thirty bunks. But it was mine to call my own and it kept me there till the end of Year 1. 

Later, Ngozi Anyiam came calling. Of course, I didn't want to squat her because the room was already filled to capacity. Ms Anyiam was in a diploma programme in Science Laboratory Technology. I felt that she was brought to spy on me and I didn't like it. Perhaps, I never took a liking to people who didn't respect boundaries or liked to share personal effects such as razor blade. I made friends with Ngwa girls whom I met in the Common Room like Uche Ahunne and Precious (who allegedly moved to Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile Ife). I also met Ngozi Kalu Oche who studied History in the Faculty of Arts (same faculty as me). I would run an errand for her to J. Udeagbala for her on one of my trips to Aba. She gave a letter to one of her 'uncles' who worked in that manufacturing company off Ayaba-Umueze in Aba. I came all the way from Ogbor Hill to deliver the letter to him. I also aided another Ngozi from whom I took a letter to a man (a tailor) somewhere in Aba metropolis. I have never spoken to any of those people whom I went to deliver messages to as none gave their feedback through me. I was cool with taking and giving help. I don't keep any records of gratuity. I never spoke to Ms Philomena Ngozi Nwoko nor Ms Chinwe Nwaguru in Year 1. I never attended a meeting of the Federation of Ngwa Students (FNS) of the University. I would later speak with Ms Nwaguru in Year 2.

None of my parents has been to the University of Ibadan or I should say Ibadan as far as I know. So,  I marvel at how any sane person would talk about unfamiliar experiences belonging to other people, supporting busybodies. The common Room wasn't the best place to start school but it provided the alternative to coming to school from nowhere. I endured that year and its many drama, living with people from diverse ideologies and idiosyncrasies. Many of the girls weren't actually students as there wasn't really a way to tell. It was here that I would dread women. I got stolen from, somebody unlocked my travel bag and possibly stole money from it. People opened my cupboard and stole my personal effects. I laugh at this country that has continued to run a rogue citizenry especially among the women. I don't understand how a woman would steal so much and give birth to responsible children and citizens. It was in the Common Room that I learn from one Yoruba woman, a Toyin who allegedly studied Guidance and Counseling, that her genotype was an AC. I never heard of a blood cell that was the shape of a C rather than the infamous sickle shape causing the sickle cell anemia disease. I lived with troublesome asthmatic patient Edna who would do anything and nobody would report but once she felt wronged would run to bring the porters. It was just too much to take in and that year I decided that would be the last time I would live in Idia Hall. Thankfully, it's been since. What was I to do with all sorts of cults masquerading as student groups. The school authorities fought the vicious cults to a standstill with the rustication of some student government leaders like Aluta, Sankara, etc, to the chagrin of most of the students. Normalcy did return to the University and the hustle continued. Oh, there was the chicken and chips stand at Idia Hall gate. I got a taste of the interesting dish once...the tempting snare.

Year 2: I returned to school after the long vacation and possibly one of ASUU's strikes. I had nowhere to live and went to Oke-Ado where I had discovered an acquaintance of my family's. I shuttled from Oke-Ado (or Abadina quarters with the Ajayi's) to UI campus daily and was eager to leave that dependence for independence. 

Ms Chinwe Nwaguru: As I walked the road of UI, probably coming from Queen's Hall, where I would often go for breakfast, I met with a lady who said she was Chinwe Nwaguru, an undergraduate student of Adult Education. I asked if she were Ngwa, to which she answered in the positive, saying Yes. I asked if she had got accommodation as that was the most pressing problem among students at the time. She replied in the negative that she was putting up someplace in the quarters temporarily. I intimated that I was looking for accommodation off campus to forestall what had happened to me in the first year. In Year 1, while we were registering for classes, the school was shut down because a chief security officer was shot dead. I was forced to leave for Aba unannounced. This was an emergency and a bottleneck that I didn't want to experience ever again in the University of Ibadan. I was forced to stay with the Ajayi's until I could leave for Aba the following day. So, it was against this backdrop that I decided that I didn't want to do with campus accommodation. The school timetable was erratic as was the power supply. One could come to school one day and the following day asked to vacate the hall before noon the following day because ASUU had gone on strike or one other silly excuse. It was very unpredictable and there was a lot of insecurity of life and property on campus. So, living off campus would provide me the opportunity to leave whenever it was convenient without being a bother to other people. I had no close relative in Ibadan. And yes, it was difficult for people to put up with somebody who didn't offer sex or money without being asked. Hence, I stayed with the Ngwa lady at Oke Ado until the following week when luck came calling. She was a Seventh-day Adventist worshiping with her family at Oke-Bola. I was lucky to discover a lady whom I had known at Aba called Nwanyieze Aguwa. She had recently gained admission into the University to study Human Nutrition. I accosted her on the road from Queens Hall and greeted her. We chatted and in the long run, I asked her if I could come to put up with her in Queen's Hall till I got a house in Agbowo. She obliged the request and I was elated. To be frank I was quite surprised that another woman would come that far to Ibadan to study for higher education. There were no GSM phones, communication was limited, I had no place on campus to stay as lectures had commenced in full course. I asked Ms Aguwa if I could bring along my acquaintance Ms Nwaguru to stay with her as we were looking to share the cost of accommodation together in Agbowo. She also agreed to this other request and we parted ways.

I saw Ms Nwaguru on campus later than day (or on another day) and updated her on my plans asking if she had got any alternative accommodation. She said that she was planning to live with another woman off campus but had asked the lady to move on with somebody else. It was commonplace for women to share rooms at Agbowo or Bodija. UI students lived up to Mokola and even Dugbe. To me, it would provide me the respite of not having to rely heavily on my working mother who had other things to do with her life. I asked Ms Nwaguru about her elder sister whom she called Nneoma with whom she came to school the previous year. She said that they moved away from each other that year and decided not to live together. I didn't probe her further and we settled into Queen's Hall and lived with Ms Nwanyieze Aguwa without much ado. I attended my classes and in no time, our hostess took a liking to Ms Nwaguru who called her Danyeze (a nickname that she formed for her in Queen's Hall). They went nearly everywhere together including bathing together in the bathroom. I didn't like that part and in no time I decided I would move away from Queen's Hall alone. I wasn't planning to bring a chancer or usurper into my life.

Ms Aguwa was billed to study Human Nutrition (& Dietetics?) but was also a worker in Aba. She made a few trips back home while school was in session to do staff audit. I worried that such trips would lead to absenteeism and eventual trouble passing her courses. I knew from Year 1 that the school rewarded attendance to classes and told her so. She went for deliverance at Mountain of Fire and Miracle Ministries as some other students did. On the first day, Ms Nwaguru accompanied her or took her there - I wasn't part of their plan. On another day, they went to Bodija market together to buy foodstuff and personal effects. On occasion, I asked Ms Nwaguru to accompany me to the market for me to buy foodstuff. She declined and I went alone. I was hoping for us to divert and go looking for our own space off campus. However, one afternoon she invited me to Agbowo to view a room she had found in town. I went with her and couldn't believe my eyes. The environment was beat down, in squalor and definitely unhygienic. The pit toilet or in former President Trump's parlance 'shit hole' was a hell hole. It was well dug and it was nearly filled to the brim with faeces. I couldn't believe what I was seeing in front of me. With that why would I leave Idia Hall. I refused to make further enquiries about the house. I told her that we deserved a more sanitary living space and returned to Queen's Hall. 

However, we were trying hard to survive the White House as it was called by Queenites. White House was a smaller equivalent of the Common Room of Idia Hall. But the facilities were neater. The toilets could have been in anybody's home but they were still messed up by the lazy girls. Miraculously, it was still clean for use the following day before the cleaners came to work. There were interesting women whom we met in the White House of Queen's Hall. There was Uche with Franca. Both were students of English in the same faculty as me. Turayo, Benita, Susan (who was studying Theatre Arts), Antonia, a diploma student who was above our hostess Ms Nwanyieze Aguwa. I made haste to leave the room every day and go to the Faculty even on those mornings that I had no early lectures. Chinwe and I attended one or two Communication and Language Arts classes together. I took CLA courses for my electives as well as from Theatre Arts, Classics and English. Otherwise, I went to see a stage play at the Arts Theatre. I attended Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) readings at the Educare Trust at Leventis/Coca Cola. I knew that we had overstayed our welcome and I craved the indulgence of our hostess to bear with us (or me for initiating the move). This was nearly the end of Year 2.

I intensified efforts to find suitable accommodation and luckily I got a space at Bodija behind the Agbowo Shopping complex. I had endured all sorts of embarrassment from the two women I housed with with stoicism. It wasn't in my character to demand rights were there could only be privileges. I viewed our stay at the White House of the Queen Elizabeth Hall as a litmus test. I didn't think it wise to bring Ms Nwaguru to my new place. I thought it was best that we separated from Queen's Hall. Thinking it wise to leave the space for Ms Aguwa and her new friend, I told the former of my plans to move to town and explained that I wasn't taking the other woman with me. I didn't expect her to have liked it nor did I expect them to have nearly becoming inseparable. I wasn't going to separate friends nor take a usurper with me. Ms Aguwa was like an elder sister to me but UI could turn friends into enemies especially when her mission/motive to the University of Ibadan beyond attending school wasn't known or revealed to me. This was in early 2001.

Ms Aguwa and others helped me take my things to UI gate. Eventually, I settled into Bodija and often trekked to school from Fadeyi Street. The Easter weekend of 2001, while I was away in Lagos State my room and my roommate's room were broken into and all valuables carted away. I couldn't believe that the woman in the main building knew nothing (of course) about the burglary. I didn't know who wasn't satiated to have a bed space paid for by another to herself. I didn't understand why somebody shouldn't be happy when her burden was lifted. That was the last time I ever spoke to both women at the University of Ibadan till I graduated school. I tried speaking to Ms Nwaguru but she shunned my greeting and I left it that way. Later in my 300 level, I would meet Ms Nwaguru in the Kenneth Dike Library and greeted her but she ignored my greeting. I believed that she had moved on with her life. I would report the matter to Ms Nwoko (when we became fully acquainted) asking her if she knew Ms Nwaguru well. She answered in the affirmative. An enquiry into where she lived revealed that Ms Nwaguru had moved in with a boyfriend of hers an Igbo man named Vincent, who was supposedly a UIte, allegedly studying Electrical & Electronics Engineering. Mr Vincent was an Ngwa man, I believed from Isiala Ngwa North area. Ms Nwaguru's sister, Nneoma, also moved in with the couple and I didn't know if I would have liked that if Ms Nwaguru and I had lived together off campus. I later found out from Ms Nwaguru at Aba (Ahia Ohuru) that she and Mr Vincent moved in with one LDS Church member who accommodated them before they left Ibadan. I would believe the man to be Mr Friday Barah who studied in the Faculty of Education with Ms Nwaguru and Ms Lara Ajayi, but had she left me with no names. Many people dropped out of UI for various reasons ranging from inadequate finances to 'wisdom.' Wisdom is what I call 'leaving all the drama' behind and moving away and moving on with your life graciously. We made no pact and I believed that UI wasn't a daycare of any sort.

To be continued....