The road to Damascus -page 13

Finally we are done with our term papers. Semester 1 has ended. I head to the department to print and submit my work at the general office.

We’ve already submitted the soft copies via the lecturers’ emails.

There is a printing press uphill where printing is very cheap. It’s where many of us head for all our printing needs. Helps us save a lot, especially when printing in bulk like what I was going to do.

“Good morning! I’m here to print some papers.“

“Send it to this number.” the young lady indicates with her left while the right hand was still held to the mouse, trying to finish up a job for a student who seemed late for lectures.

I save the number, refresh my WhatsApp a couple of time before finding the number.

“I’ve sent it. The cover pages colored. The rest, black and white.”

“OK.”

Her beauty wasn’t striking, but she looked dedicated to the job.

“Do you school at UPSA?“ I ask.

“Yes.” She confirms.

“I think I saw you there.” I explain.

The printer by this time had started hissing out my papers. They come out so easily, but writing them was a herculean task.

She comb binds the various term papers, then takes up her calculator.

“98 cedis.”

I hand her a note and she gives me the change.

“Thank you!”

And off to the department I went.

I had left the hostel in a hurry, without paying much attention to my dressing. Now that I entered the general office, I noticed my odd look, accentuated when my phonology lecturer entered the office to pick up some documents. She first looked at me as if she wasn’t sure of the person, then looked again before saying

“Oh, it’s you!“

I smiled, feeling embarrassed.

My sandals were dusty and old. Should have given some extra attention to my appearance.

The national service personnel at the office were too busy to notice, or if they did, must have though that was how I looked on a regular since they were new.

I stepped out of the office after the submission and bumped into a coursemate who had come to request for some extension. She needed more time to finish up her work because of some family issues that came up. She too gave me an odd look.

While we talked, I noticed she was scanning my sandals from the corners of her eyes.

Damn! Doesn’t matter where I’m going now, will certainly pay attention to my appearance.

Even if I’m headed to a refuse dump to help clean up.