Articles

Ocean of Lust

Chapter One
 “Life is nothing but a story to be told” This is absolutely not in my case as of course it would be a narration to be narrated but also an anecdote to be enthusiastically sought after.
I am Olanike, a seventeen years old institution aspirant or better put as University aimer. Parent named me ‘Nike but people would call me by names of their desires, most common of all “CMoon“. A nickname trailed to my ever-shining face. Truly, to confess, I am a figure of beauty, “Kilimanjaro of perfection” Afeez, an admirer praised. Afeez is a secondary school mate of mine, we rolled along throughout my days in College. Being in the same department makes the bond even more stronger.
I had 302 in my Unified Tertiary and Matriculation Examination (UTME),  hoping for mass communication at University of Ilorin. As God wishes, Olanike is the only product of her parent, Mr and Mrs Adebayo. Consequently, I am satisfactorily taken care of. Mr and Mrs Adebayo are both civil servants. They work for Local government but at different Secretariats . What they do there is still till moment a mystery to me, all I see is Mummy going out with handbag in the morning and returning in the evening unchanged. I was once tempted to ask of her doings in the Local Government, “Gbenue Soun“. She shut my mouth up.
My father, like my mother is a caring man. His intelligence is unmatchable. You would never win an argument against him nor has he ever been found guilty of any misdeeds. For that, Mummy would call him “Barrister“. With time, I also get used to it. Neighbors too soon start calling me “Omo Barry“. I found it lovely.
Ever since I saw my UTME’s result, I declared a war of “This is just the beginning” on myself ahead of the Post-UTME’s trial. Although it was more of a revision as everything are all I have read while preparing for UTME. Notwithstanding, I still have to read again regardless of how boring it seem. To read what you have previously read is as bitter as herb!
I stopped reading a week to the examination, “what else will I read” I rhetorically asked myself. Hardworking has never failed me. I believed I was hundred percent fit for the test.
On the day of the examination, I was scheduled to sit for the test at 2:00pm. Barrister decided not to give me a ride to the examination’s centre. “Freedom to be on your own, is a course in life’s institution” He defends his shocking stance. Mummy’s pleas went on deaf ears. He escorted me to the garage not far from where we resides. As we walk down the street, Daddy was full of cryptic speeches, all his words I could not really comprehend. “You are going there to fightagainst yourselfYourself and you alone” He calmy said as I was about to enter a bus. ” Take these“. He handed me an eye glasses. I spread my palms to gesticulate ” What for?”. ” Its moment shall come” He echoed as he waived his palms wishing the already moving bus a safe trip.
It was my first time of leaving Ogbomosho. I haven’t had such an experience of public transportation before. In the bus, the feelings was comic, light and kind of interesting. I was able to see and feel the nature as I sat beside the window. It was indeed a great journey to remember.
The bus stopped at General, a bus-stop at Ilorin. I took a cab from there to Tanke then to the University, Barrister has explicitly explained everything to me. I arrived at the centre thirty minutes to the examination.
Getting there, I was overwhelmed in tension and fear when I saw the thousands of heads there also to jostle for the very little admission spaces but before I will lose myself to the environment, I quickly pluck out the eyeglasses Daddy gave me and put it on. “Welcome to the world of Omo Barry” I amusingly murmured as I head to the exam Hall.
The test was made for me” I narrate to mum after a safe voyage back home. ” The questions were technically made for Art studentsIt was easyI’m hoping for the best
We were both in the parlour when Dad walked in and screamed ” Congratulations“. I used his Sim card to register so the result would be sent there. ” You had88%” He broke the news. No special feelings as I was used to such moment of euphoria. Weeks later, I was congratulated for admission. University of Ilorin, there I go!
” Today,you are moving to another planet unarmed” Barrister sat me down on one Saturday’s morning as mummy ensured my luggages are well packed into the boot of a chattered vehicle.  The school resume on Monday and today, Saturday, I am moving to Kwara state. Daddy is giving me his words of advice, as ever, cryptic and figurative. He continues ” Your mother, the oxygen is not journeying with you nor will I, the astraonaut . How do you survive my little angel?”
I thought his next statement would be an answer to the previous but nay, he enters another kingdom of admonition
At some moments Fathia, your heart will beat in speed. Be calm, whenever you’re in such a pool of dilemma, follow  your brain not your heart”
Follow your brain not your heart” I mimick his words. ” I don’t get you Dad, I need clarity” I appeal. ” A letter is there in your bag on the 255th page of ‘The 48 Laws of Power’ , both shall be helpful” He concluded.
I headed to mummy for her own piece but all Barry’s wife could sa the chiat the destined hostel at Tanke, at noon. Not sooner had I got there than I arranged the new habitat to my taste. With the scintillating fragrance of the freshened air- thanks to my air freshener and the sedating breeze oozing out from the swirling fan, I couldn’t help but dose off.
I woke up minutes after seven O’clock post-meridian. I lied down making no movement, paradise would not have been more pleasing. Again, sleep won me over.
It was minutes before 2:30 in the midnight that the urinary pressure force me up and I stood up to urinate. From the clarity of my eyes, I was aware that I was going to stay awake till day break. With nothing to do, I opted for Dad’s letter.
It was the most polished words I had ever seen. The message detailed about precision, romance and strategies. That was the first time Barrister would be mentioning romance to me.
On precision, he wrote ” Science is thousands of years old today, yet, till the moment I’m spilling this ink, no professor or any researcher has been able to analyze why we feel with our heart. To feel, all believe it to be a function of the brain but when you love, is it with your heart or your brain? Heart is a mystery, an ambiguous demon and so whenever you want to decide, follow your brain “
He continued on romance. ” With tears of heart, I am admitting that if you are old enough for tertiary institution, Olanike, you’re also ripe enough to be wifed. More than I believe in death, I have hundred percent faith in you in holding fast to yourself…” He expresses confidence in me in keeping myself chaste while admitting that I am already in a world of desires.
 “If guys of nowadays were to be Adam, they would have with their sweet words, convinced God to let man stay forever in paradise” Barrister list numerable tricks and seductive tactics of men and warned me off them.
I have always been distracted by love proposals and romantic advancements ever since my secondary school days. My fully charged phone would wane down drastically of non-stopping SMS and repetitive and excessive calls. Mr Adebayo seized my phone times without figure. “It’s not her fault” Mummy would beg. “Yes, it’s my fault. Hadn’t I given her the gadget, she wouldn’t have been threatened by derailers” Barrister would install silence on her
Three principals were laid off, five students expelled and seven teaching staff were fired all guilty of either harassing or molesting me. The students were indicted of attempted rape. But for management appeasement, I would have switched school. With all these, I am fully aware that the admission  to University of Ilorin will be like getting admitted to University of In-loving.
Four weeks later, I had been joined by my roommate, Elizabeth. We are to attend an unofficial matriculation party organised by stale students and to be held at mid-day. I initially refused but ‘lizabeth argued it to be nothing. ” After all, it’s in the day” She won me.
In the party, I was not engaged in the programs, I was buy with my phone. Throughout the party, I noticed a young guy stealing my glances. Full of experience, I understood everything. Soon, the party were over and we left for hostel.
Weeks later on a Saturday morning, I received a letter from a guy named Atanda as he addressed himself. There was more to the letter than just being a message. It was a poem, consisting of sharpened verses, all in rhymes and full of my praise. It took me two lines to be sure the letter is from the guy at the party.
He started by recalling where he first saw me.
 “It was in a party at a city of earth.
My eyes was presented before an idol. I can’t remember how well I felt
” 
My ‘head began to swell’ when I got to verses of praise. From my voice he started;
 “Let me not mention her voice, a tone of a devil.
A music! A Melody! From a lady anointed by the heavens”
I was really impressed by the inviting words of the letter. “I must meet this guy” I vowed.
It was on Sunday’s evening, the subsequent day that the management of the University announces compliance with the directives from the Academic Staff Union of University (ASUU) to begin an indefinite industrial action. That was the first time Unilorin’s academic activities is being affected in eleven years. All blames to the reconciliation between the Union and the institution.
Barrister called me that night. ” Mallam Uthman is coming for you, off to Kaduna. Enjoy your stay there” He laughs as he hangs up. Mallam Uthman is my uncle and he lives at Kaduna. Till the government will reach an agreement with ASUU,  “enjoy your stay here” Mallam Uthman welcomed me home.
   

About the author

Ibrahim Sofiyullaha

Ibrahim Sofiyullaha Olaitan is a student of Biomedical Engineering who loves to speak in ink and lead (pencil). In spite being academically unpoetic, Olaitan believes Literature isn't only for the citizens of art alone but for all homo sapiens who would want their desires and fantasies lettered poetically.

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