The following events happened between 06:30Hrs and 09:00Hrs on said day.

I woke up hungry despite not going to bed hungry. This usually happens whenever I'm broke and broke was I. I had passed the night at a course mate's room in El Kanemi hall because we had a lab report that was due around 09:00Hrs and those EEG 201 lab guys had no iota of joy. So we rubbed minds and dubbed the dubbable.

While I was contemplating on what to eat as I prepared to proceed to my hostel in Biobaku (Newest II), rumours started flying around. Rumours like: “One student speaker had dropped dead as he called the VC”, “The VC just killed the SUG speaker with a killer number”, “Some students have just burnt the VC’s house in protest”, “The VC turned into a ram and escaped”...plenty plenty crap sha.

As a completely apolitical Engineering student, I didn’t see the point in active participation in SUG affairs. In fact, I always respected AbuduGana, a Mechanical Engineering student that was the previous SUG President. How that guy take graduate sef? I digress.

But a student had just died and it was a sad development irrespective of the obfuscatory circumstances. Well, I had to live through this, and eating was pertinent to that mission, so I headed to Baba Aluta’s bukateria. Baba Aluta and his wife, Iya Aluta had a multipurpose buka close to the El Kanemi common room and they were the creator’s gifts to El Kanemites, especially in matters concerning Agege Bread, Yam, and Fried Egg.

But Baba Aluta’s place was a bit crowded (as usual), I booked space (Nairaland Nairaland got nothing on me ) and ran down to my hostel to wash my mouth, change into something else, grab my signed lab sheet from my locker (you had to attach this to your lab report to prove you were in attendance), and came back to Baba Aluta’s for breakfast before heading to the faculty. Meanwhile, I had had my bath in one of El Kanemi hall’s bathrooms, as I couldn’t trust water supply in Newest Hall.

By the time I got to my room, the rumours were still flying around, but another event was taking place in my room. One of my roommates was cooking some madass rice concoction and the aroma was out of this world. Here are the facts with respect to that event:

1. He had NEVER cooked before. EVER.

2. We were like 14 in number mostly from different faculties (2 reasonably butty guys, 12 pako guys) and out of the 12 pakos, 4 had vested stakes in the meal.

3. These 4 had never agreed on such a venture before so it was an unlikely collabo.

4. The pot wasn’t that big. In fact, it was just enough for 3.


For those that are finding it hard to believe that a student room in a hostel could contain that much people, chill with the chill pill. By default, it was a 12-man room. However, by mid semester, it became a 14 –16 man room, and by the time exams begin…hmmm. Best left to your imagination.

Well, back to the matter.
I indicated my heartfelt willingness to participate in their culinary joint venture and I was told that their little project was nearing completion and it was too late to get involved. In other words, I could not reap where I did not sow. Since I had a booked space elsewhere and I was in a kind of hurry, I said, “fück it”, arranged myself, and went back to El Kanemi. But not without complimenting Le Chef and discussing future partnership prospects. That aroma tho’.

By the time I got back to El Kanemi to eat and head to my faculty, the rumours had started taking the dimension of “Mopols are on their way”, “they’re bringing teargas”, etc. I immediately recollected one incident some months earlier. Students were protesting the increase of Jambites’ school fees to 24,500 at the Senate House/Main Auditorium and I was observing from a distance (around the Faculty of Engineering car park to be specific). I was a Jambite then and before you could say ‘Jam-bi-to’, there was tear gas everywhere. School scatter that day, no be small. That was my first experience with tear gas and it was not funny!

So when I noticed some El Kanemites leaving their hostels in a hurry and the word ‘teargas’ was flying around anyhow, I just decided to go back to my hostel jeje and lay low for a while until I got a firm grip on what was really happening. I cancelled my booking with Baba Aluta and headed out of El Kanemi. Upon setting my foot outside the hostel, the reality of the whole hullabaloo dawned on me. There were already armed Mopols everywhere directing students out of their classes and out of the campus (the nearby Pre-Degree hall and Education Faculty halls were already showing signs of academic activities). You had no choice but to leave the campus premises as the Mopols were gesturing students towards the campus gate. I would later learn that they ‘teargassed’ the shït out of those students that remained behind. Phew! Bullet Teargas dodged!!

Students in their droves were leaving campus and most were loitering around Abule Oja and St. Finbarrs roads, causing heavy traffic. As in, Heavy! I tried to think about what to do next. I was based in Lagos though, but I couldn’t go home without my stuff. I only had on me, my wallet and my lab report. The money was enough to get me home but I just couldn’t leave like that. I had to know what would happen next. Was it a temporary thing? Will it die down by noon? Or for just plain ol’ aproko sake!

After what seemed like forever, the students were now trickling out and it had become clear that na house sure pass. But I had to get some of my belongings from the hostel so I must find my way back on campus. I summoned courage and approached one of the straight-faced Mopols forming U.S Marine . I begged him that I lived in Port Harcourt and I had all my money in my room and there was nowhere else for me to go without access to that money. He asked for my ID card and after I showed him, he signalled his colleague that was further behind to allow me get back on campus. I gave the colleague the same gist and he allowed me in.

I headed back to my hostel, and boy was it as silent as a graveyard! In fact, between the campus gate and the hostel, I think I was the only mammal around (if I’m permitted to exaggerate a bit). I reported to the porters at my hostel and told them that I came to get my stuff, gave them my room number and headed upstairs. There was no student in sight and it felt kinda eerie. I entered my room observed the chaos. Room wey no too neat on a good day, and today was not a good day. I headed to my locker and that was when I noticed it.

In a small corner close to mine was the room’s electric cooker (aka hot plate), and sitting majestically on it was Le Chef’s pot of rice concoction. I approached it slowly, hoping and praying that there was something left to chow, even if na bottom pot, I for no mind. I uncovered the pot and there and then, the earth stopped spinning. Only heaven understood the exhilarating joy I felt at my discovery! In fact, I had a ‘foodgarsm’...O boy! The teleological-cüm-gluttony part of me kept insisting that there was no way everything that had happened that morning up until that moment wasn’t because of this gastronomic Mona Lisa before me (except the death part ☹ ). The food was just as I liked, as in, not too hot and not too cold! Just perfecta! Some Goldilocks mode mhen! I felt like Alan Quatermain and Sir Henry upon discovery of the treasure room within King Solomon’s mines (Fück you Gagool ). I had already stopped being hungry as soon as I left El Kanemi but as at that deus ex machina moment, my ghrelins had regained their confidence and were ready to maim, kill, and destroy.

I attacked the meal with reckless abandon and kept on thanking the forces that be for this opportunity. I ate directly from the pot, with the spoon I saw in the pot...I dey vex!!! It was one of those moments when you felt like having more than one stomach where you could reserve some food for rumination later. The food was that good. I can’t even start describing the taste of the food! Le Chef was on point!!! After eating to stupor, I had to go to like the third room from mine before I could get a sachet of 'pure' water, as there was none in my room. No rice concoction I had had had had such a profound effect on me before this. It was craaay!

My people, may someone else not reap the fruit of your labour o! In fact, may y’all experience unmerited favour all the days of your lives!! Can I get an Amen?

I'll just round up my gist before I go all MFM on you guys…

The university authorities went ahead to shut the school for three months and that marked the end of a glorious era on campus. Students were banned from living on campus except you were physically challenged, a First Class student, or a member of the university sports team (these decisions were later reviewed), they took Makama Bida hall from the guys and gave it to the ladies, and worst of all, they stopped students from visiting the hostels of the opposite sex.

Months later, the campus shuttle I boarded at Yaba had just left the bus terminal when I noticed Le Chef joining the queue. I smiled in nostalgia.

Do we have any Unilag graduates in the house that experienced that incident? E don tey sha, but try share wetin you remember abeg...

One Love

My people, may someone else not reap the fruit of your labour o! In fact, may y’all experience unmerited favour all the days of your lives!!

Lalasticlala, Mynd44, Seun, r231, this na sweet gist o. Front page worthy


Amen o!!!!

Lovely write up. I Love! Love!! Love!!! the story... kudos.

OP you are one helluva writer. Kwakwakwkwakwa

Loooooollllll... This should be in the literature section naooo. So where the Akokites (abi?) In the house I trust Uniben shaaaa. if na we, na frontpage tins