Tuesday, 25 August 2015
Friday, 14 August 2015
Awwww....this man is so annoying and frustrating. I'm in class having a lecture, at least that's what I thought I came here for. What this lecturer is doing is telling us stories of cultists whose spirit travel out of their bodies while they were asleep... Abeg wetin concern agbero with overload???
Some lecturers don't actually know how to teach. They just come to class, mention topics you're supposed to go learn yourself, scare you with how tough their exam questions will be and tell irrelevant stories....
So I'm making a vow to myself....
When I become a lecturer, my students are going to love me (at least I'm hoping no one would blog in my class, like I'm doing now). I'm going to try to impact knowledge in them, not just to pass exams but to apply such knowledge in day-to-day life. So future students, watch out for moi!!!
Tuesday, 11 August 2015
Friday, 7 August 2015
I hate it when people clearly don't want to give you assistance, help or positive response and when they finally do, they make you feel bad about it or make you know they never wanted to do it in the first place... And I wonder, why not just say 'NO' and get it over with!
Almost everyone does this in one situation or the other.
For example in class today, a student was received a phone call and I think he was told his attention was needed elsewhere. He stood up, walked to the lecturer and quietly and politely told him he had to leave... The lecturer was quiet for sometime... And then said... 'well, if you feel that's more important than this class, you can go'...like seriously??? Why make him feel bad about it?
In another situation, a lecturer came to teach when time for classes was already over and just as we were complaining of being tired, he said 'well it's not by force, you can go. I'll still teach even if it's just two students left'
This second instance isn't really about a 'yes or no response'....But I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I just hate impolite responses so so much.
Ummm....I just reread this post and I think it's a little confusing and probably makes no sense. I guess it's either because I'm tired since I just finished from class, or probably cos I'm so tired after overfeeding myself this morning....
Okay I'm going to stop typing now and post this ....
Wednesday, 5 August 2015
I had left class and was on my way to make a photocopy of an handout when i suddenly heard a loud shout and heavy footsteps thumping behind me. I turned and there was this huge cow running towards me...I immediately threw my books in all directions and started running for my dear life. My whole life flashed before my eyes, people around me were screaming. I couldn't hear what they were saying and all I could think of was...Is this the end...Oh my! I ran as I have never done in my life. I could hear the cow coming closer and closer and closer... Suddenly, I felt this piercing pain in my chest and realised I couldn't run any longer...I stopped, decided to say my last prayers as I heard the cow's footsteps getting even closer. I fell on my knees and then suddenly....
P.S...this is the part where if you're under 18 you have to stop reading....
Suddenly...the cow raced past me and continued running on its own. At first, I didn't really notice as I felt I was already dead. Until, someone tapped me, I looked up thinking its probably an angel and I'm about to face judgement. When I looked up, it was the Mallam who owned the cow.
"Why you dy run?" he asked me. I stood up and looked around at the people staring at me. That was when I realised the cow was actually running onits own and was being chased by its owners...Silly silly me! I thought to myself and did a walk of shame back to where I had flung my books, praying I find them.
I closed from church around 8 last night and the service was so wonderful that I found myself singing on top of the bike I boarded, I was so happy and blessed by the service and I knew nothing could steal my joy.
During the closing prayer, the man handling the prayer asked us to pray for our journey back home from church. I remember praying that prayer with the mind of, 'its not like anything ever happens sef'. Well, I was wrong.
When the bike I boarded got to my street, we had a collision with another bike coming towards us and before I knew it we were on the ground....nah scratch that, it happened slowly. I saw the other bike coming towards us leave his lane and crossed over to ours, I saw the collision, screamed 'Jesus' as we collided and fell to the floor. As soon as it happened, the two bike men immediately stood up and got into a heated argument about who was wrong or right. Seriously? I thought to myself, they didn't even thank God it wasn't worse or even check for injuries. Next thing I knew, they were about to start a fight. I didn't even know what they were saying since they were speaking their language. Next thing one of them started taking of his trousers! Umm...what's happening I thought to myself and I finally saw it was because he had sustained an injury on his knee. I wondered if I should just slip into the already forming crowd and go home which no one would obviously notice since they'd already forgotten about me. Just as I was about to do just that, someone came up to me and asked if I had any injuries. I looked up and it was my neighbour, I checked and that was when I even noticed I had slight bruises and told him that it was nothing. That was when the others finally noticed my presence and told me to say what happened, which I did and made it sound as if no one was really at fault and that ended the heated argument and one of them asked me if I'd like to be taken to the hospital, I declined and said I was okay. My bikeman decided it was time to continue our journey, which we started but couldn't continue since his bike was damaged. I told him not to worry, that I'd walk the rest of the way home. He declined the money for the fare and I gladly walked back home singing....yeah nothing was gonna steal my joy.
The last time I fell seriously ill, I think I was probably 9 or 10 and I don't even remember what it felt like. So, when I fell ill last week, all the memories came rushing back. At first I tried ignoring the pains and felt it would be nothing serious and would soon pass. but as the days passed, it became serious and before I knew it, I was at the hospital. At first, I was bitter about the whole stuff, I mean, why would God allow me "His favorite" to fall ill? I felt betrayed. Then I looked around while I was in the waiting room, waiting to see the doctor, I saw a man who was halfway gone...he couldn't move a muscle, couldn't even keep his eyes closed or open, he was just lying on the stretcher drooling. As if that wasn't enough I saw a group of people who were receiving lectures on living with HIV since they were all infected. There were sick people around me who couldn't even move on their own, had to be placed on a wheel chair, others didn't even have enough money to pay their bills and here I was complaining. I felt so bad, I was having slight malaria and typhoid which I could not remember the last time that happened to me and I was thinking I was in a bad condition. To make matters worse, when I was admitted for observation, I saw some others who were in far worse condition and I think someone even died before I was discharged later that evening...
I learnt a lesson that week, to be grateful because in whatever situation I find myself I'm better off and also, that position or situation is actually someone else's prayer point....