EDITORIAL: DEAR DIARY, IT’S ME AGAIN…
The last few days have been hell. This brand of shege was made in Ibadan. I know I said this the last time I wrote, but it’s never been this bad. Ten happened. See, we didn’t have light for about 7 days. I know I sound like a child whining for his new toy, but 7 days is a lot. Every day felt long and unending, coming with new tribulations customized for each person. I rationed the water I used to take my bath and even my bowel had to work hand in hand with me so that I didn’t need to use the toilet more than once in a day, or even once in two days. Add this to the demands of medical school and you have people who are angry and tired. The people I pitied the most were the members of the MBBDS class of 2k21.
Imagine having to start a major professional exam amidst major problems like a blackout and water scarcity. I once stumbled on a young man at the quadrangle reading with the light from his phone as he used his hands to deal with the mosquitoes that seemed to be fashioned against him. Like him, I found several of his classmates reading at very ridiculous places. I hope their exams are going fine though. I’m rooting for them so much. Path and Pharm exams are so physically and emotionally draining. I hear only final MBBDS exams rival it. Again, I hope things turn out fine for them.
I hear that a new set of Medical and Dental students will be crossing soon. I think some Physiotherapy and Medical Laboratory Science students crossed not too long ago too. They say that you know your time in COMUI is coming to an end when you can no longer keep up with the number of new faces. I want to tell them welcome to the trenches or to the great ọgbà, but who am I to do that? Of late, I’ve had to reminisce about how things used to be and if things would actually get better. I remember when we had light almost 24/7 and despite this, people kept telling me that the light was even worse than it used to be. There were times when Prestige would be open till 11pm or 12 am, but now you’d be lucky to still get food at 10pm. The Brownite line (a section for only BROWNITES with a server assigned to them) used to be a matter of law but now it changes and bends to the whims of the servers. We don’t even get serviettes again. The toilets on my block feel worse than they used to. A friend of mine talked about how one or two people reportedly saw snakes a few weeks ago because of the bushes. Some people have never heard the generator come on when the bone of contention used to be how long we’d wait before turning it on. Although fixed now, and hopefully permanently, we’ve had problems with some of the sewage drainage systems. Even this year’s elections are not “electioning” like other years have “electioned”. I know my ramblings sound like a salad of ideas and again, like a child whining for some little things, but are these little things not what matter?
This is not to say some things have not become better. We know that the senior-junior interactions have greatly improved. Of course, fights still happen here and there but I guess it’s something you’d expect when you put people with different characters in a place. Some floors now have water running quite frequently and the inverters in the reading room ensure that there’s at least light to see and read your books if you get a space there. But again, I can’t shake the worry that grips my heart about the future of this place.
See, I’m tired. I know this has come out of the blue but I need you to know that I’m terribly exhausted. I used to think it was only me but conversations with several people have made me realize that I am not alone. It feels like we’re chronically fatigued. A friend mentioned how he hates how lazy he feels like he’s become. How could he do anything well when he would always wake up tired regardless of how long he slept for? There’s even been a decline in people’s involvement in sports and I wonder maybe that’s why too. Or maybe it’s because we all have exams coming up and we’re all fighting for our lives. However, for now, I’ll enjoy random conversations with friends, use today’s bonfire to “hold body”, watch movies, read works of fiction on the rare days that I have the chance and fantasize about life after school. I hope they’ll all be enough to see me to the finish line.
And yes, they brought the light yesterday. There were shouts of joy that would rival those announcing the arrival of a long awaited first son. Some people were almost moved to tears and it felt like all was well with the world again. But you can feel it…that unspoken fear and anxiety. “When will it happen again?”, because it’s a question of “when”, not “if”. They took the light twice or thrice and all I kept saying was, “Is this the start of another blackout?”. There’s so much we can’t talk about, but it feels like the more things change, the more they remain the same…or they get even worse. For now, we’ll charge our devices in our rooms again, fetch water at more convenient locations and not use the blackout as an excuse not to read.
Dear Diary, I don’t know the next time I’ll write. It feels like I only remember you when things go bad, so I hope that isn’t anytime soon. Or maybe I’ll write happy memories for a change. That reminds me, I met a girl I like a lot. Maybe I’ll tell you all about her in my next entry. But I’ll stop now, because Dr. Adélẹ́yẹ won’t hear that my diary entry is the reason why I haven’t read hypothyroidism, heart failure, acute liver disease and stroke. Let’s get this degree, and thank you for always welcoming me with open arms regardless of how far I stray.