The road to Damascus -page 6

So many things on my mind this morning.

We have a presentation, and my group is poorly prepared. I am thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and psyching myself for them. My group members had other assignments and couldn’t give their all to this one.

Lectures starts at 9am. It’s 8:30 and I am still at home, broke. I contemplate the alternatives. I could ask my roommates for help. But we have had some disagreements of late, and they certainly wouldn’t help. There is one person among them who might. But he too is struggling just as I am.

I had a few coins, but they weren’t enough for the transport to campus. So as I head to the usual place I board a taxi to campus, I just hoped I would bump into a good Samaritan.

Seems it was  a Sabbath day for Samaritans. None at their post.

I keep walking on and contemplating while checking my time. Getting late. I decide to walk to campus. Will take almost an hour to get to there, but I have no choice.

While trudging hungry that morning, I thought of whom to contact for help me. I would send messages because I was out of airtime. I had to use the strategy of reaching out to many helpers at a time. I have become used to people’s excuses for not helping: Oh, I just gave out some money to someone in need and I am out of cash now…Oh, it’s not a good time….Oh, I am in hospital right now, I have been admitted (and they send you pictures [probably an old picture of their visit to a hospital to convince you, some even add doctor’s report as if you were an employer who needed it to decide if they should be paid or not for their absence to work due to their illness])…

To avoid dying of the shock of banking my hopes on someone and being utterly disappointed, I reach out to hundreds of people at a time. Usually, two or three will send something that can hold me for a couple of days till my parents send me my monthly stipend.

But the difficult days made me see many people for who they are. Many just smile at you and act as friends until you’re in need. Then you realize you actually have fewer friends than you thought. There is nothing honorable about being broke and asking for help. But sometimes there’s just no other option under the circumstances, and no job one could take up immediately. Sometimes, even when you find a new job, commuting to work everyday and feeding till you’re paid becomes a challenge.

The walking now made me hungrier than I was, slowing down the going. Now it wasn’t just fatigue that was weighing me down, but sadness too. My condition made me wonder when things were going to change for me too like they were for others.

If I were broke, how could I afford to ask a girl out. I had taken some numbers, but the courage to call wasn’t there. They all have an anthem they sing these days when you call: they want to know what you do for a living and once they realize you’re just a student still dependant on your parents, their fingers grow cold to text or pick up calls. Other girls do it indirectly by asking for help to sort some urgent need, and you know they’re just testing your pocket. Perhaps, the way forward is to cut them off for now and focus on myself for a while. But loneliness has a different opinion.

I don’t know why so many thoughts are on my mind this morning while I’m trudging to campus. Now, I’m thinking of the scandals we’ve seen lately, of lecturers sleeping with students and awarding them grades they did not work for. We heard of a story where a male lecturer, after sleeping with a female student, still failed her in his exam. And students were rumoring that perhaps the sex wasn’t good enough …