"Young boy, if I call your name one more time, just forget about going to school!"
My mother's voice cut through the house like a whip.
"Alright, ma!" I shouted back, already scrambling off the bed.
My feet hit the cold floor, and I rushed toward the bathroom, nearly tripping over my slippers. I could hear her muttering from the sitting room , the familiar sound of irritation mixed with concern. She had that special tone that meant she was angry but still cared enough not to give up on me yet.
By the time I came out, water dripping from my face and sweat already forming on my forehead, she stood there with her arms folded.
"Are you trying to go back to sleep?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "Because from the way you're moving, it looks like you have all the time in the world."
"No, ma," I said quickly. "I'm ready."
She sighed deeply. "Hurry up. After the market, I still have other places to go."
I rushed into my room, threw on the first clean clothes I could find, and grabbed my bag. That morning felt like many others before it, rushed, tense, and full of that silent pressure only a Nigerian parent could create without saying too much.
We left for the market shortly after.
The road was already alive, hawkers shouting, buses honking, dust rising into the air with every passing vehicle. As my mother bargained with traders, I stood beside her, half listening, half lost in my thoughts. I knew something big was coming. I just didn't know how much it would change me.
Two Days Later
"What have you been doing at home for the past one month that was given to you for your registration?"
My elder brother's voice thundered through the room.
I looked up from where I sat, completely unfazed.
"Relax, bro," I said. "There was this movie I was watching and I wanted to finish it. Besides, I'm here now, so there's no need for all this shouting."
He stared at me for a moment, disbelief written all over his face.
"You and your movies," he muttered. "Anyway, I'm heading to class. When you're done with your registration, go and settle into your hostel."
He walked out, shaking his head.
I shrugged. "Not only movies. I did other things too."
As he walked out, I leaned back in my chair and exhaled. Truth be told, he wasn't wrong. I had delayed things longer than I should have. But now that I was finally here, there was no turning back.I exhaled slowly. That was it. This was the beginning. No more postponing. No more excuses.
I grabbed my documents, straightened my shirt, and headed out.
The Admin Block
The administrative building stood tall and dull, painted in a faded cream color that had clearly seen better days. Students gathered in small groups around the entrance, some chatting, others nervously flipping through files and documents.
I walked inside, my heart beating slightly faster. The place smelled of old paper and dust. Fans creaked lazily overhead, doing little to fight the heat.
That was when I heard a voice.
"Hey."
I turned.
A girl stood a few steps away, holding a brown file close to her chest. She had a calm expression, soft eyes, and a quiet confidence that immediately caught my attention.
"Hi," I replied.
"How are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I said. "I'm Godwin."
"Eunice," she replied with a smile. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too."
There was a brief silence, but it wasn't awkward. Just… comfortable.
"So," she asked, shifting her weight slightly, "what are you here for?"
"Late registration," I answered honestly. "You?"
"I'm on the last batch," she said.
"Oh," I chuckled softly. "Seems like I'm the only one from the first batch that is still registering."
She smiled. "Looks like it."
We stood there for a moment, the noise of the office fading into the background. I noticed the way her hair fell gently over her shoulders, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled. Something about her presence felt… easy.
"Well," I said finally, adjusting my bag, "I guess I should go and meet the receptionist."
"Yeah," she nodded. "We'll probably see each other around."
"I hope so," I said before I could stop myself.
She smiled again. "It was nice meeting you."
"The pleasure is mine," I replied.
As I walked toward the front desk, I couldn't help but glance back at her one more time. She was already turning away, heading in the opposite direction.
I smiled to myself.
Wow… that girl is beautiful.
And in that moment, without me realizing it, something had quietly begun, something that would later change my days in ways I never expected.
After completing my registration, I stepped out into the open space beyond the administrative building, my eyes squinting slightly against the afternoon sun. The air felt different, thicker somehow, heavy with dust, heat, and the quiet tension of new beginnings. This wasn't just another place I was passing through. This was where the next chapter of my life would begin.
The Admin Block stood proudly near the school gate, as if guarding the institution from the outside world. It was the first structure anyone would notice upon entering the campus. Its walls carried the dull color of age, stained by years of sun and rain, but it still commanded respect. Beyond it lay the parking space, scattered with a few cars and motorcycles, some dusty, others freshly washed as if their owners wanted to make a good impression.
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and began walking, following the road that led deeper into the school. My heart beat with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Everything was unfamiliar, and yet I knew that in time, this place would start to feel like home, or at least something close to it.
As I walked, the campus slowly revealed itself.
On both sides of the road were the departmental buildings. Each department had its own set of lecture halls, four in number, all designed almost the same way. The lecture rooms looked like oversized secondary school classrooms, long rows of desks, wide windows, faded paint, and boards that had clearly seen better days. Each could accommodate anywhere between fifty to eighty students, though I could already imagine how overcrowded they would become once lectures began.
Behind the lecture halls were the practical workshop buildings. These were completely different in scale. Large, rectangular structures with wide entrances and high roofs, they looked capable of swallowing hundreds of people at once. In fact, each could hold more than five thousand students if needed. There were four of these massive halls, positioned not too far from one another, standing like giants watching over the academic activities of the school.
I paused for a moment, taking it all in. The place felt serious. This wasn't secondary school anymore. This was an environment that demanded responsibility, independence, and discipline. No one was going to chase me into class or remind me to submit assignments. Everything depended on how much effort I was willing to put in.
As I continued walking, the noise gradually reduced. The laughter and chatter faded into a distant hum. Soon, I found myself standing in front of the school library. The building had a calm presence about it, quiet, firm, and almost intimidating. It felt like a place where time slowed down, where knowledge lived quietly on dusty shelves, waiting for those patient enough to seek it.
Just beside the library stood the NHIS building, the school clinic. I went inside briefly to complete my registration as a student. The process was straightforward, but the smell of antiseptic and the sight of medical beds reminded me that this place was not just about books and lectures; it was also where students came when things went wrong, when bodies or minds needed care.
Once I was done, I stepped back outside and continued walking.
Ahead of me, in the distance, I could see the hostel area.
As I got closer, the layout became clearer. There were eighteen hostel buildings in total, neatly arranged in a wide circular formation. Each building was labeled with a letter, from A to R. It was almost artistic in the way they formed a ring, like they were protecting something important at the center.
Two of the buildings, J and K, stood slightly apart from the rest, separated by a fence. They looked isolated, as if they had their own rules or stories. I couldn't help but wonder why they were separated. Maybe there was history behind it. Maybe I'd find out someday.
At the center of the circle stood a smaller building, square in shape. It wasn't as tall or as wide as the others, but it felt important. On its wall, written boldly, were the words:
STUDENT COMMON ROOM
Inside were three offices, two small shops, and a hall where students could gather. It felt like the heart of the hostel, the place where stories would be shared, friendships formed, arguments started, and memories created.
I stood there for a moment, taking everything in.
This was it.
This was where I would live.
The realization hit me slowly, sinking into my chest. Home was no longer just a place I could return to at the end of the day. From now on, this place would carry my laughter, my frustration, my failures, and my growth.
My hostel room was in Block D, Room 1.
The walk from the hostel to the lecture halls would take about thirty minutes, and almost forty minutes to reach the Admin Block. Just thinking about the daily walks made my legs ache, but there was no turning back now.
I reached Block D and stood in front of the door to Room 1. My hand hovered over the handle for a second before I pushed it open.
"Oh… someone's still inside," I said instinctively, stepping in halfway.
"Hey, who's there?" a voice replied from inside.
"Hi, I'm the new roommate," I said. "My name is Godwin."
"Alright," the voice answered. "I'm Austin, but you can call me Sug."
"Okay… Sug," I replied, unsure whether to smile or laugh.
He smiled instead. "Welcome. The other guy, Amanto, he went to class."
I nodded, taking in the small room that would now be my personal space. Two beds. Two lockers. A small window letting in warm afternoon light. It wasn't fancy, but it was enough.
I dropped my bag and sat on the bed, feeling both relieved and overwhelmed.
Settling in turned out to be harder than I had expected.
At first, I thought it would take just a few days, maybe a week or two, to adjust. I believed that once I memorized the routes, learned a few names, and got used to the food, everything would fall into place.
I was wrong.
School had its own rhythm, and it moved fast. It didn't slow down for confusion or uncertainty. You either adapted or got left behind.
Every morning began the same way. I woke up to the sound of footsteps, voices, and the occasional argument echoing through the hostel corridors. I washed up, dressed, and stepped outside, unsure of what the day would bring.
Some mornings, I felt confident. I walked with my head high, convinced that I could handle whatever came my way.
Other days, I felt small.
Like I didn't quite belong.
I watched people closely, how they spoke, how they laughed, how easily they formed groups. I studied their confidence, their familiarity with the environment. I tried to learn the unspoken rules: when to talk, when to stay quiet, who to approach, and who to avoid.
At first, I observed more than I participated. I listened more than I spoke. I wanted to understand the rhythm of this new world before stepping fully into it.
Some people were kind and welcoming. They greeted me with smiles, shared jokes, and offered help without hesitation.
Others were distant. Cold. They made it clear, sometimes without words, that this place was not meant to be comfortable for everyone.
There were days I returned to my room feeling drained, questioning myself.
Was I good enough to be here?
Was I smart enough to survive this place?
Did I truly belong among these people?
Those thoughts followed me into the quiet moments, especially at night when the hostel grew still and my mind had nothing else to focus on.
Yet, beneath the doubt, something was changing.
Slowly, almost without me noticing, I was growing.
I was learning patience, how to wait, how to observe, how not to react to everything immediately.
I was learning awareness, how to read situations, how to understand people beyond their words.
I was learning independence, how to stand on my own, make my own decisions, and carry my own weight.
Settling in wasn't about becoming comfortable.
It was about learning how to breathe in a new environment.
It was about adapting without losing myself.
It was about standing firm even when everything felt unfamiliar.
And though I didn't realize it at the time, those early days, those confusing, uncomfortable, quiet days, were shaping me.
They were turning me into someone stronger, more observant, and more prepared for whatever lay ahead.
That was just the beginning.