I had no brother older than me to orient me properly on university life and how to properly place my steps to make the most of my student life on campus.

So, I sat myself down.

“This is a new environment and this is your first time in uni.” I told myself.

I convinced myself to feel free to make mistakes. No pressure. The second semester would be used to assess the inputs made towards every course and the outcome so that new resolutions can be taken going forward.

And that was how my first semester went : feeling free to make mistakes and forgive myself. Was my first time after all.

It did not mean I wouldn’t study hard. It did not mean I could join bad friends. Neither did it mean I could lazy about from one campus party to the other. It just meant I left enough room for all kinds of blunders – blue, red, big, small, microscopic…

I

Undergrad was a big upgrade from what we did in senior high school. Some lecturers were really cool and empathic, giving us areas to focus on for our exams since the things studied were quite broad.

In general the first semester lecturers across my various courses were exceptionally cool.

Even long after graduating, many of my coursemates and friends still ask and talk about such lecturers. Some people are so good at their jobs that they build appetite in others to model their lives after them.

One was a very friendly and warm French lecturer from France. She was so pretty and cool, with an exceptionally sweet personality.

Unfortunately, she taught for just a semester and in the second semester she left, perhaps back to France.

We were studying the basics in level 100 but to our little minds, what we studied was very demanding.

Because the academic year began a bit late for us freshers, the continuing students vacated before us. It was December and we had to go for the Xmas break and return to write our exams.

I remember the hostel I was living in. Everyone left for the Christmas break, leaving me and the hostel manager in those giant buildings. At night I would stand at the balcony, staring at the thick darkness that engulfed the hostel. Everyone had gone home so the lights in many rooms were off, except mine and that of the hostel manager who never seemed lonely thanks to the girls he sneaked into his bed.

From a distance I would hear fireworks and Christmas song and some enthusiastic motor rider in the mood to experiment with death since he hadn’t had anyone from the underworld to remind him of the heat there.

Those were really lonely times. My only companion in my room was one little box TV that prefered to talk to me instead of being talked to.

I remember my roamings on campus, making the most of campus Wifi to watch nollywood movies. I never forget those Nigerian movies I watched, so colorful and fun.

So much we can do with loneliness.