It’s Monday morning. My alarm goes off at 6:15 to wake me for the new day. I ignore it. Classes don’t start till 9, I can scrape 30 minutes. I finally get up at 6:57 mumble a short prayer; across my tiny 7 feet wide room my two roommates are still sleeping on the twin bed they share. I walk sluggishly to the water container outside our tenement house of six rooms to check if we’ve got any water left. I find there’s none and chide myself for not going over to David’s to get water last night. I’ll have to buy from the mai ruwa, the wheelbarrow pushers who sell water to us and most of the people in the city outskirts I stay because there’s no clean water. The riverine town feeds off fishing but has few sources of clean water and the river itself…not something I like to picture anyone drinking or bathing in for that matter.
By 7:45 I’ve haggled enough with the water pushers and walked a fine distance before I finally get a suitable price for my student allowance. The bathroom is a shared one like many around; it services about 20 people so sometimes I have to wait. Today’s not an exception, that woman as my roommate calls her is in the preferred bathroom. She takes forever to bathe so I pass time by studying the rust on the low zinc roof structure.
“How far. You don dey go?” “Na so I see am o. I no wait for those my roommates today”, I reply to my mohawked neighbor, the only friend we’ve got in the compound. I start my morning prayers as I begin my 2.1km walk to school, a figure I’m only sure of cause of a Google map project I had at school. My favorite way to travel to and from school is usually by tamo, anchoring on the back of cement trucks and bigger vehicles carrying sand. I get to free my inner adrenaline junkie, a part most people don’t know I’ve got.
School’s pretty much the same each day. Learn, be wowed, joke around, and finally the signal to end class. One thing that makes school a bit different from norm is the assigned workstation system. To cultivate an attitude of willing service, we’re all assigned workstations to clean.
My nights are quite similar but still doesn’t dampen the pain of having to live through them. On getting home I’m left to answer the biggest question in the universe, what to have for dinner. This is usually 6ish, after 30minutes of deliberation my roommates and I finally eat dinner by 10. It takes a lot of time to get things done between the shouting over who’s to cook, wash plates or bring money for foodstuff.
After reading my bible through sleepy eyes for what I consider long enough to be embarrassing, I set another alarm to wake at 1:20 to complete my reading and maybe browse a few school stuff.
My alarm goes off again, its 6:15.