Maryann Odo @agozie

As I walked down the road, I realized I hadn't been here in five years. With each step, old memories came rushing back to me and I smiled at each childhood picture clouded my mind.

I remembered how I would run home from school with my school bag bouncing on my back. But then I had a motive. I usually stopped at the special place full of fruits.

Let me describe this spot, I called it the green compound with the big trees. I smiled as I saw the mango trees filled with bright yellow mangoes that looked so sweet. Next to the mangoes were orange trees, with bright oranges hanging down and tempting me. Though I couldn't now got for it now (big girl things).

I also remembered the cherry trees, with their pink and red fruits, my junior sister preferred that to mangoes and I can't tell why.
There were also German mangoes, not my favorite. The sweet mangoes was the best, I loved them.

When I walked this road before, I would quietly pick fruits to share with my brothers and sisters. I wasn't being naughty, I was just being clever. The family who owned the trees knew me, and they said I could take some fruits anytime I felt like, and with that kind of opportunity, I made it a routine. They trusted me, which made me feel good inside.

As I walked past the compound, I took a deep breath and let the happy memories fill me up. This road as part of my childhood.

This particular jotter came with a gold plated edges that I use to go with classes with. People usually admired it, and I loved it myself. Often, I would prefer to go about with the book in hand rather than carry my side bag.

Then came a day when, for reasons I still don’t remember, I misplaced that book. I’ve been searching for it everywhere, scanning my surroundings with my eyes, but I couldn’t remember where I had left it or who I might have given it to. I had clearly lost it.

But then, just last week, a friend returned it to me, saying I had given it to him. I was both relieved and grateful, but I couldn't thank him enough for bringing it back.
don’t know if the book itself can’t be found on the market or if it’s just that special. I think its worth comes from the many acknowledgments I’ve received about it. Whenever someone catches a glance of that book, they can’t help but want to see it and admire it.

Beyond its looks, I also rely on it for jotting during lectures and taking down notes. That should add up more layers to its significance for me.

So, when I misplaced it, it felt like I lost a part of myself.

I’m the kind of person who usually doesn’t understand why someone would stay on a phone call for more than 30 minutes. I’ve always looked at those people who talk for an hour or even two as if they’re just jobless, unable to find something better to do. What could possibly be so important to discuss for that long, especially over the phone?

But today was different. I received a call from one of my close male friends, and it had been a while since we last spoke. To be honest, I really like this guy he had a good personality, and I know he liked me. When he called, I wasn’t sure what to expect. To my surprise, we ended up talking for a long time. The call was long, in fact, that I didn’t even realize an hour had passed until I checked the time.

What amazed me was that we still had so much to talk about. I felt a rush of happiness as my perspective on long phone calls shifted instantly. We continued chatting, and before I knew it, another hour flew by. Unfortunately, that’s when the network started to interfere. It was the only reason we had to hang up, but by then, my idea of long calls had changed.

It’s not that I hated long calls or had never experienced. It was just that seeing someone engage in lengthy conversations repeatedly felt a bit too much.

I decided it was finally time to put on my sneakers and get on the field and jog.
My class people had organised a little jogging get together just to rekindle the relationship among us students.
I convinced one of my friends to join me, and we started with a slow pace jog.

But fate had other plans. On my second lap back, I misstepped and stumbled over a stone. It caught me off guard, and I felt a sharp pain on my left toe. When I looked down and removed my left shoe, blood was gushing from my king-toe, and for a moment, all I could think was why it chose to happen just while I was having a little fun, But despite the pain and the frustration, I refused to let it get the better of me.

I took a deep breath and remembered why I had come out there in the first place. I didnt want to end the little fun that had just started because of a little setback After cleaning up the wound, I got back on the track, even happier, I can't let my enemies triumph.

Living in the city was something very special and enjoyable. I imagined it would be like the Nollywood movies, those kind of films that made me admire the actors as they drove through splendid avenues and past grand mansions. Everything seemed so bright and glamorous, and I longed to visit the city.

When I was applying for tertiary institutions, I included UNN on my list, knowing that my course required me to move to the city for my 200 level to complete my remaining years. This was always on my mind. After I traveled to Enugu and finished my 100 level, life became tough. The economy and various challenges weighed heavy on everyone. No one here is smiling; both the rich and the poor are complaining.

It wasn't like in the movie anymore; I had to cook my own food, go to classes without support, come back home, and do my research. I had to drag myself along and be an adult. I never prepared for this; I never prepared to be an adult so soon, but I think I'm still learning. It's part of the learning and experiences we encounter in life that make us who we are. Well, I'm still keeping on the right path, and I pray that God keeps me and gives me my daily bread, also protects me all through. It's not easy being a student. For every student out there who is keeping on the right path, they deserve accolades.

I used to love music to the extent that everyday, I always made sure that I had the latest released music on my phone.
But as I grew older, I stopped listening to music as much I used to, and I missed it.
Today I felt like bringing back that my lost old self so I grabbed my phone and opened my Opera Mini browser to searched for my favorite singers, like Davido and Rema. I found their new songs.
I was not so impressed with their new released but my better happiness came from the point that I am among the first set of people to have the song on my phone.
After enjoying their afro-pop songs, I wanted something different. I searched for artists like Mercy Chinwo, Don Moen, and Frank Edward, hoping to find uplifting songs about faith and happiness. Unfortunately, I only found a few new tracks. I felt disappointed but listened to what I had by the way.
I think I prefer Chinwo's to all the songs that I downloaded today.

I needed to talk to Arinze, our course representative. He often carried himself around like the king of the classroom, with a touch of arrogance.Time and again, I watched him turn down people's suggestions and advice, always behaving like he has all the answers. The truth was, he wasn’t living up to the trust we had placed in him as a leader.

As I made my way across the lecture room, I noticed Arinze leaning against the wall, arms crossed, surrounded by a small group of other classmates that was making enquiries about one thing or the other.

Approaching him, I asked if we could talk to him aside. He raised an eyebrow, surprised, but nodded in agreement, i thought he was going to embarass me, but he was just humble.
We found a quieter corner of the classroom, and I sat down. I immediately started to talk about how things had been going this semester and how it felt like he often dismissed the suggestions we tried to make.

At first, he was defensive. He claimed that He he was merely trying to lead the class arguing that if he took things too lightly, in his view, would result in people not taking him seriously.

But after much deliberations, I let him know that true leadership comes not just from commanding respect but from earning it. I emphasized that he could be strong without being dismissive. People wanted to feel valued, not whisked away.

I was sure my sermon had gotten to him, he agreed with me and promised to change. It was not just hid promise, his eyes assured me.

My Dad once told me a funny story from when he was still a student. He said in their neighborhood, The EFCC, which is a group that checks for bad people, we all know what they do came to visit.
Everyone was scared because they were knocking on doors and some doors were broken.

He said that people started to hide because they didn’t want to be seen. My dad was really scared too, but he stayed quiet in his room. He listened as he heard loud bangs and people whispering.

The EFCC went from house to house, searching for people. They knocked louder and louder and all of a sudden, the noises died down and they head their vehicles zoom off.

After they left, everyone was curious about what happened. They came out of their hiding spots to see what happened by checking each room one by one. Then, they opened the door to a room next to my dad’s. When they walked in, they saw it was empty. But my dad said that as they were about closing the door, they heard a loud noise crash to the floor.

The guy who lived in that room had been hiding on the roof, But when he heard his neighbour's voice might have tried to come down but slipped and fell down through the ceiling.
Dust and pieces of the ceiling were everywhere.
He was covered with dust and cobwebs as he remained on the floor and laughed at himself, everyone was laughing despite the tension earlier.