CLEARANCE HUSTLE 1
The evening I saw online that I had gained admission into the prestigious University of Benin was an amazing one. I came back from church that evening and carefully balanced a plate of eba laced with soup on the table devouring it with all agility like a dog chewing a fresh bone.

My other hand was busy on my retired LG phone entering some alphabets and numbers inside some boxes on the portal to see if I had been chosen alongside the lucky ones admitted into UNIBEN. My application profile opened and I scrolled down without thinking and saw that I was provisionally admitted.
I jumped in joy and abandoned my cold eba and hot soup. I ran round the house in an indescribable joy. I went literally insane. Only my pretty sisters can sufficiently tell you the story. Now, I was admitted- a proud optometry student of the GREAT University of Benin!

Few weeks later. Clearance began!

If I had known the clearance process were to be hell, I would have went for military training before I embarked on it. I did my online clearance without much stress at one of the shops at the Shopping Complex sited close to the famous school gate.
Then, it was the manual clearance. When I began, I understood why some of my friends referred to UNIBEN as UNISTRESS. I had to stand at a very long queue at Unity Bank inside the school to pay for something I cannot even remember( you can remind me if you know). The queue was multiple S-shaped. And worse of all, it was not moving. I stood for minutes on one spot and for hours moving a step or two that my bones could no longer carry my body. I almost died.

We did some 'sharp guy' things, and finally paid for whatever it was we had to pay for. Then, with the speed of Usain Bolt, ran to the Bursar's office to get receipt for what we paid for at the bank. The market at home was not as crowded and noisy as the Bursar's office premises.

I was squeezed in-between fat souls. At that point, I prayed to God asking Him to take back my admission. I didn't want to die all because I wanted to be a university student.

Thereafter, I had to begin my manual clearance proper at Akin Deko Auditorium. Oh my God, this was worse than hell.

.............to be continued.

Facebook Id :- Sunday Erhun

Is dat all d story...?

ehmasjet: Is dat all d story...?

Nope, Updating soon.

Ride on. At ur back

CLEARANCE HUSTLE 2
I had not gotten accommodation since I was a new student. So, I came from home to school that dull morning with my relevant documents neatly arranged in a file I stole from my younger sister(nobody should tell her, please). Highlighting from the metallic shuttle bus I headed straight to the intimidating Akin Deko Auditorium to do my manual clearance. I was so anxious like Mr Ken meeting Queen Elizabeth.


I arrived the auditorium and I saw another King's square! The crowd was buzzing like swarm of bees on a sorry victim. The tall, short, good-looking, bad-looking were all there with majority of them looking confused just as I were. Some 'big brosses' were hawking scratch cards in their hands. Others set up temporary photo studios 'begging' you to take passport photographs as though you will lose your admission if you don't take from them.

Some girls were just busy taking photos with the lifeless statues around. I was just perplexed like a market woman whose goods has been carted away by a mad woman. I ignored all of these, and went inside the auditorium proper. Oh my God! I was taking aback by the noise inside that was comparable to the noise of a never-ending tornado.

The seats were all occupied and a larger number of persons were standing like electric poles in my street. Those sitting didn't know why they were sitting were they were seated. Those standing were standing because they saw others standing. Majority of us were a complete bunch of confused fellows.

I saw some clearance officers at the front attending to some persons. I stayed there for hours on my feet. I was told several stories by some naive intakes just like me. They said each faculty had it's own clearance officer. Some said some officers were not around. Some said there was a list I MUST write my name before I could be cleared. Some said rich men's children will be cleared first . They got me so confused.

It became so funny when some persons began asking me same questions I had been asking all along. A blind man to lead a blind man? At the end of the day, it dawned on me that I would not be cleared that day. It was already past 6:30PM. Someone suggested we go sleep in the school's hostel, and come early the next day to get a chance to be cleared. I agreed, and called them at home.

So, I found myself in Hall 1- the famous girls hostel . It was another drama.

Hmm! Abeg, which type of drama?

When I arrived Hall 1 that night, it automatically won the medal of the strangest place I have ever been. Strange porters. Strange common room. Strange canteen. Strange flowers. Strange cats. Strange blocks. Strange faces, and worse of all strange rooms.


We slept over at one of the rooms in one of the floors in one of the blocks I cannot remember. The smell of the place reminded me of the rat that died under my 'Ghana-must-go' bag several years back. There were no beds, so I had to sleep on some metal on the bunk that a foam was supposed to be put on.

By the corner of the room was a heap of rubbish that I wondered if the girls that occupied the room before were the rubbish management officers of the hostel. That night was horrible that I saw myself receiving lectures in one College of Education. When I woke up, honestly speaking, I had to reject it by Holy Ghost fire. I even called my Mom.

Hastily, we took our baths and jumped out of the hostel since the gate was still locked. It was just 5 AM. Don't ask me where we passed. I didn't want to jump, but when I saw a very plump guy did it, I got motivation and did it. We arrived the auditorium early enough, and we entered our names in a list. I think I was number fourteen on the list. An exco member from our faculty or department came, and gave us sheets of paper that contained our number.

When we finally got inside the auditorium, there was commotion. Some persons had slept over at the auditorium. So they claimed to be the first persons to arrive. I was like OMG! The list we suffered for was dumped, and some sorts of corruption occurred, and I was not able to do my clearance that day.

I called home. I had to sleep at Hall 1 again! That place with the girls complaining that too much boys were around. I saw just a few girls, though. I had no choice. I must be cleared.

Next day, the hustle continued, and I was eventually cleared. It was another hell experience getting the Student Record Files. After filling them, I brought them back to school, and it was then Faculty Clearance.

Our faculty clearance officer taught us a big lesson: UNIBEN is not a secondary school!

To be continued !

LOL. I can relate to this. You're doing great.

It's "porter" though, not "potter"

I love the apt description of my GREAT UNIBEN, following this. Got me thinking of my clearance way back in 2011. Keep UNIBEST'S FLAG FLYING. #UNIBEN

Following...

Following, Y. Cos i wuld b doing my clearance soon

There was so much confusion at the faculty. We didn't know where to queue up(queuing is a tradition in UNIBEN). We didn't know what and what documents we should submit. We didn't know how many Record Files they needed. We were just too naive.

Lectures had long commenced, and some 'serious' students were already attending classes while their clearance was suffering from a heart attack. They would scramble over timetable as though it was what you needed to graduate with a first class. They would sit in the overcrowded 500 LT listening to lecturers teaching but it was hardly entering their brains. I had a firsthand experience.

I didn't give a damn about lectures. I wanted to get done with my clearance. If I had known that it would take long before the clearance process would be over, I would have spent more time attending classes than showing my ridiculous face at the old Dean's office for a chance to get cleared.

As usual, the list would spring forth and everybody would commit 'suicide' to get their names on it. Afterwards, it would be dumped. I got really lucky and got cleared but not until after I have had a one-on-one hellish session with Osama Bin Laden.

In one of the days of our struggles, an angry fresher shouted at the woman who was in charge of our clearance. She got so angry, and gave us the insults of our lives. I left that place angrily and started a trade selling palmwine- in my dreams!
She sent us home refusing to clear us. And the struggle continued day after day.

Some persons had issues with their documents. Some used different middle names. Some had issues with their birth date. Many had to fill the Correction Form and had to go swear an affidavit in court. You can imagine the stress.

After the faculty clearance, it was departmental clearance. Horrible! Everything was just clearance as if we are criminals bringing goods into the country. I even had to do hostel clearance. I thought there was going to be toilet clearance also, but it did not come.

When I was finally through with all of these annoying clearances, I went off to Brazil in my dreams and had a vacation with Ronaldinho. When I woke up, I had to face another great reality: hostel wahala.

Why did I ever come to Hall 4?

Dude z scaring me......I really hope I wont face all these when I start my own clearance and accreditation by February

What course r u studying @GODWIN

Interesting. Still following

great optometrist, m so proud of you, I found a course mate on nairaland.... dancing skelewu

kenneyyice: What course r u studying @GODWIN

No need to know bro... Just tag along

Denlightened are you one of the 2013/2014 newly admitted students?

HOSTEL WAHALA 1

The day I moved into the beans-famed Hall 4 has been my most ridiculous day ever, and I well mean that.

I was excited about leaving home and moving into the hostel. I had heard several stories about Hall 4 particularly, but I just didn't care.

I was told that boys go from room to room with spoons in their pockets, but I just did not care. I was told there were some 'big boys' that would molest freshers like me, but I just did not care. All I wanted was to leave home, and start a new life at the hostel. But when my pretty sister bade me goodbye at the unit 1 gate of Hall 4, I started to care. It was so scary!

I can't remember what made me scared, but I was just afraid, or perhaps anxious. Everything made me afraid. From the interrogating glances from the Hall 4 boys to the quizzing looks of the porters , I was vibrating in my bones.

The only thing that gave me courage to move a feet and drag my Olumo Rock-weighing bag along were the similar anxious faces of freshers like me who were moving in with all the properties they had in the world. I wondered if they were going to live in the hostel forever.

I presented my hostel card to one of the porters who took time to look at my frightened rashes-stained face and the person in the passport photograph attached to the card. When his mind finally told him it was me, he allowed me in.

I used all the energy I had and commanded my heavy bag to follow me to the hot Unit 3. Approaching Unit 3, the scene right in my face was completely barbaric. I wanted to abandon my bag, and just run away. I saw big boys completely naked having their baths individually in the open air. They just didn't seem to care if anybody was looking. I had never seen anything like that all my life. "Are there no bathrooms?" I asked my confused mind.

How on earth was I going to live in a place were people have their bath outside naked ? I started crying on the inside. Don't blame too much. I had never seen anything like that all my life. I turned my face away with less luck and hurriedly located my room.

I entered the room, and there was no roommates to welcome me. Many of them had not moved in. I did some prayers and clean up, then laid on my bed and started to cry . For, I cried. Tears came out! What was I crying about?

I had started to miss my wonderful family.

Bene.O:
Denlightened are you one of the 2013/2014 newly admitted students?

yh,bro........law,precisely

I hail Una my fellow Uniben Students


following

HOSTEL WAHALA 2
I cried that evening that the rats in the room quietly picked up their bags, bade me goodbye and left the room because my sobbing was disturbing them. I really did not know why I was already missing my family. I had not even spent a night in my strange hostel!

I tried eating but the grains of rice became Mike Tyson on my sore throat. I defeated them with water from a sachet. Hours later, some persons came into the room. They were as big as my elder brother. What the hell were they doing here. Like an antivirus software, they scanned me with their big eyes as if I were from planet Mars or sorts.

They knew at once I was a fresher and asked me if I had gotten a bed space in the room. I answered yes, but in my mind I wondered why there were asking such an annoying question. If I had not gotten bed space, what then the hell was I doing in the room?

We introduced ourselves, and I discovered they were squatters( a term used for those who live in the hostel with their friends or even enemies but have no bed space). And worse of all, they were not squatting with anybody in the room, they came on their own and became landlords in the rooms they did not pay for. Why couldn't they? They were final year Engineering students.

Days passed, and Room 133, Unit 3 in Hall 4 became a market place. All my roommates had moved in, and some moved in with friends. We were supposed to be eight living in the rooms, but when I woke up one morning and counted, we were twelve. The Engineering bosses moved out, but one kept coming.

Strange hostel, strange roommates. The only thing we had for one another in the first few days together was a good morning, and sometimes, welcome. How was I going to live with eleven strange boys in one room? I was going to melt like candle wax. The only consolation I had was that my course mate was also my bunkmate.

When the stoves and hot plates came out, and pots landed on them, I knew for sure that I was in serious wahala.

To be Continued !

HOSTEL WAHALA 3
Boys can cook! Whether what they cook is delicious or not is of no importance. What carries weight in Hall 4 is that food enters your stomach. My big nose was irritated by different aromas of food from different rooms in my first few days in the hostel. I will perceive 'ogbono' soup from one room and spaghetti from another. The strong men in my room will be disturbing with rice and oil, and the guys next door will set my nostrils ablaze with the aroma of fish dancing in hot oil. Everywhere, the smell of beans is a constant!

Though I was irritated at first by this conglomerate of different aromas, I eventually fell in love with it. In times of hunger, all I do is stroll by and the aromas alone fill my nostrils, then go straight to my stomach and I become filled. I didn't say I go asking for food, I only go about collecting the aromas. Just aromas.

Right from my first day in the hostel, taking my bath or using the toilet was always a wahala. Being a JJC, I would wake up very early in the morning so I could get to class early and lay a stronghold on one of the front seats in the always crowded 500 LT where we received lectures. Getting to the bathroom, it would be dry as the Kalahari Desert. I would then rush to the tap outside, and meet an army of Hall 4 boys waiting for the water to start running with buckets queued up.

I join in the league, waiting. When the water eventually shows up, buckets that were never in the queue equally would show up at the front. And I kept wondering where they came from. This disgusted me at first, but with time I got used to it because it all made life in the hostel interesting.

The bathroom is another world of its own. Some boys would spend over several minutes taking their baths leaving others waiting especially when the showers are working. Those outside would keep banging at the doors, asking those inside to come out. But many would not just care. Until they have washed their bodies spotlessly clean, they would not come out.

And the scene that always go on in front of the toilets is a story I cannot tell with words. After downloading series of heavy meals, the lucky ones would rush into the toilets like someone being pursued by a madman. While the unlucky ones would have to wait until those inside are through. While those inside are comfortably dishing out their excesses, those outside are grinding in pain as their excesses are wanting to come out urgently. Trust them to bang at the doors, and trust those inside to always ignore. It is always a scene, but no one commits a sin by fighting.

We have porters in the hostel. They are in charge of the hostel. But in Hall 4, we see them as anti-hot plate men. The hostel authorities do not allow electric cookers which we commonly call hot plate in the hostel. But some Hall 4 boys are not generous enough to allow the luxury of using a kerosine stove, so hot plates find their way into the hostel, and do their job of cooking the big boys' meals. However, the potters would sometimes go from rooms to rooms checking if there are hotplates, and if they find any with you or in your corner, you would have a stone to grind with them.

So, when the porters are going round checking, some good boys would be shouting, "Hall four brothers, hot plate is coming." The wise ones will understand enough to make their hotplates disappear or invisible. Those that have been caught with hotplates had long stories to tell.

The small buka in our unit gets more customers than the Mat-Ice Fast Food near the Nursing Hostels. The first day I saw boys ordering and eating, I was completely dumbfounded. Why?

To be Continued !

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I dey here ooo

Hmmm...UNIBEN!

Schools and their kasala