Diary Of A College Girl…
THE WRITER
My Name is Grace Klubi
An old student of Achimota School (Akora), currently studying Computer Science at Kwame Nkrumah University Of Science and Technology (KNUST).
I love to write and sing as hobbies. I enjoy writing, and I have a vivid imagination of what life could be like if it were perfect.
GRACE KLUBI
DIARY OF A COLLEGE GIRL
THE FRESHER
EPISODE 1
College…
All my older friends who had gone to college were no longer my friends.
Why?
They were too cool for me.
Let’s face facts. Why would they be friends with an SHS girl who had to get her head shaved every month?
Yes. Shaved. Not a haircut. My father didn’t believe in half-done things and applied it to every aspect of his life and mine too…being an only child is that hard.
After completing Suhum Senior High, I really looked forward to becoming a university girl. The long vacation went by in a flash. I spent it eating and sleeping to gain weight.
The examination results soon arrived and university admissions followed almost immediately.
Initially, I had wanted to go to the University of Ghana, but looking at my friends who had gone there and transformed into wannabe slay Queens who did not want to be friends with me anymore because their noses were stuck in the air, I decided to choose a university with more than 2% of seriousness in the student population and less than 40%…
And so Tech it was for me!
Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology is located in the capital of the Ashanti region of Ghana, Kumasi. It was far from home, which meant my parents couldn’t pop in, but not too far, which meant I could run back home whenever I pleased.
Although I didn’t get law as planned, I did get my second pick-sociology.
I was ecstatic.
I began gyming to trim the right places, highlight my curves, and buy the right clothes; secretly of course.
[stextbox id=”alert” caption=”WARNING”]Exclusive Content to http://www.aaron-ansah-agyeman.com Do not copy or share on any other site. Do not share on any WhatsApp, Facebook or Social Media page. ONLY SHARE THE LINKS TO THE STORY[/stextbox]My dad had zero tolerance for girls who wore “too tight” or “too short” clothes and I wouldn’t want to ruin the angel image he had of me. Very needed for future monetary reasons – if you get what I mean…
I arrived on campus on 4th September at 2 pm.
My whole family followed. And by my whole family, I meant both parents and the driver. It was a long drive and my dad kept complaining about the journey. That was music to my ears since it meant he wouldn’t be coming to visit me anytime soon.
I was affiliated to Queen Elizabeth II Hall. When we arrived, on seeing the queue, my family got annoyed. My dad refused to let me join and asked me to wait till it got less crowded. (I’m an only child so I have Princess privileges.)
Anyway, we spent the time in our Family car- a 2014 model of the Hyundai I 30. We weren’t rich per se, but we were comfortable no doubt. We waited there till 5 pm and then my dad entered the hall manager’s office, shared a few jokes and probably an envelope, and I got my room keys.
It was that simple.
Mr Wesley (the driver) hauled my suitcase followed by my parents, then me, delicately carrying my rice cooker and a handbag up the stairs to my room on the first floor.
On getting there, I stopped at the entrance and stared in disbelief.
The tears started to fall down my cheeks before I could stop them. The room looked like a life-sized matchbox. There were two bunk beds, which meant I would have to share it with three other girls, and aside from where the beds occupied, there was a walk space for one person only. Two people couldn’t walk through holding hands. Behind the room was a balcony with shelves that were almost coming off which was supposed to be used as a makeshift kitchen. In the midst of my confusion, I heard my mum’s voice,
“Dear, we can’t let her stay here…”.
The look of pity on my dad’s face lingered for a minute and then he shook his head and the stern look was back. He said
“You’ll have roommates who are girls like you. They’ll survive and so will you. You don’t have two heads.”
“But…” I began when I felt my mum’s hand on my shoulder with a reassuring look on her face telling me I’d be fine.
“Aw well…” I thought to myself. “I’m in college. That’s enough “.
After a teary goodbye and a lot of advice and some extra hundred cedis as compensation for the conditions of my accommodation, I waved at the car in front of my hall and seeing that they had left, I skipped to my room and immediately changed from the knee-length African print dress I was wearing to a pair of tight high waisted jeans with a crop top, released my braids and sat down, took out some nail Polish and started applying very loud nail polish.
“This is the life!” I thought to myself.
It was 7 pm and my roommates hadn’t arrived yet. I was beginning to get scared.
I decided to take a walk hoping that it’d be quiet and I’d have some space to plan how my day would go the next day.
However, I was mistaken. In every sense of the word!
So many people, everywhere, eating, laughing and chatting.
I glanced at my watch again just to be sure. The time was 8 pm. A smile slowly crept on my face as my brain processed the scene.
“No parental control! Freedom”.
I almost yelped for joy but remembering my new “cool girl” character, I quickly looked down to hide my smile and continued walking, hoping no one had seen me.
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Lady!”
I quizzed around wondering if I was the “lady” in question. I only remember being addressed as a “small girl ” all my life, and metamorphosing into a “lady” category was nothing less than strange, in an uncanny sort of way.
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