The Law School Journal (Entry 3)

June 15

Apparently, life exists outside the four walls of the school. That came as a shock to me. I have Blessing and Ogo to thank for that.

Before I get to that, local man must complain about the limited nature of his dietary options. In the past three weeks, I’ve eaten fried rice, jollof rice and rice and stew from several food outlets in the school. News flash: most of them are crap, and I’m not saying that just as someone who’s picky with food. Choppers tries sha, but if I have to continue eating there, I’ll be broke before next month. I tried some porridge yam that left a bad taste in my mouth, noodles that were tasty but left me hungrier than I was before I actually ate it, and porridge beans that turned my stomach into Afghanistan in 2002.

Then, on Wednesday after lecture, as I was walking out of the class, I met Blessing. We had both graduated from the same university, but in the five years we were there, we hadn’t said more than fifty words to each other. I said “Hi” and wanted to continue on my way, but she seemed bent on chatting. She said she wanted to go and eat, so I was confused when she began heading for the school gate instead of the Mami market. She explained that there’s this awesome place they sell good food outside. Me-the-Explorer followed.

She bought rice and ofe akwu, and my stomach rumbled. It’s been one month and a week since I last had that. I wanted some! I ordered for a plate of what she was eating on the go. And then, I learned they sold swallow too. I ordered for garri and oha soup to go.

Everything cost less than 500 bucks!

Gay Jesus!

I was feeling all shades of thankful to Blessing, until I realized that she was talking too much. Barely fifteen minutes and I already knew about all the guys asking her out and the very many things her roommate had been doing to her. When she was done eating, we paid and she ‘talked’ me back to school. I was exhausted by the time I got back to my room, even though I had not really talked.

My roommate (okay, let’s call him Buike) commented on the fact that I bought garri today. But then frowned when I started to eat the garri with a spoon. I waited for him to make a crass comment about that, but he just said, “Man, you are just weird.” And it was obvious that it wasn’t meant as an insult.

The food wasn’t bad at all!

The next few days, I walked with Blessing to buy food after class, getting my ears filled with stories I didn’t want to hear. But the thing is that I kind of had gotten used to this routine. I liked listening to her. Sometimes, she even sought my advice with some things; that one makes me laugh. I mean, who am I to give advice?

There is however a problem. On some level, Blessing is convinced that I’m her fellow female.

I know that sometimes this might be a slip of the tongue, but this one pass abeg. I mean, she calls me, “Nne”. She’d be telling some story and she’d be like, “Nne, that my roommate used my electric kettle today even though she is beefing me oh!”

After the third time, I was convinced that shit is real: Blessing was turning me into a girl who is her friend. I would stop walking and calmly remind her that I’m not “Nne”. So far, that hasn’t helped. I might just lose my cool one of these days and shout at her. I don’t like it when I do that. The last time I did, about three months ago, it was somewhat embarrassing. So embarrassing, I’m not going to retell the story.

Anyway, I went to the market with Blessing yesterday. I had made a list of things I wanted and gone with Blessing after class to hunt for fruits. They are moderately cheap around here. I bought guavas, oranges, bananas and apples. Blessing bought watermelon, aubergine and cucumbers. I imagined that she would make herself ‘happy’ with one of them cucumbers. Lord knows that she needs it.

***

So, evidently, people agree to accompany you to a party and then, they bail on you; choosing to stay in and binge-watch a TV series they’ve seen at least thrice before.

I am people.

In my defence, Ogo had it coming. She is another person that has started talking to me recently. We have developed a… I honestly don’t know what to call it. I have chalked it up to ‘Friend in Alien Country’ – something that happens when you are in unfamiliar territory, so any familiar face (even one you never considered familiar) becomes a solace.

She had met me that Friday morning before class and beg-ordered me to get out of my room and come for the school organized cocktail and then night party slated for that evening.

I came for the cocktail alright. But after standing around for an hour, making conversation by asking and answering questions like “This band is nice, right?” and “Dr. Olowononi is awesome, right?”, I was getting exhausted. So, I found a spot and watched as people fought to get a slice of the roasted ram that had been provided only to casually toss them away when they looked at what was in the paper plates. Some people were apparently confused about what ‘medium rare meat’ means.

Anyway, satisfied that I have experienced enough life for a month, I was about to return to my room when I saw Ogo. She asked me to stay with her, and we chatted for a while, Yab joining us briefly before he returned to his friends. Then, an older man arrived and Ogo vanished from my side with the quickness. She hugged him and they chatted for a really, really long time.

I simply returned to my room, stripped and started watching Will & Grace with Yab. When she called me almost an hour later to come out for the party, I told her that I wasn’t coming. Not because I was pissed at her – I really wasn’t – but because whatever enthusiasm I had about going clubbing for the first time in four years had died.

Yours truly,

The Many Faced God