Looking back, given a time travel machine, I would go back and relive the four years. The echoes of my life on campus keep sounding the same song; Make the very same mistakes and meet the very same friends. Thanks to the four years, I can now afford to dream. I can look in the mirror, stare straight to my eyes, and agree with my dual self that this has been more than just a moment; it has been ecstatic beyond any rational thought and more of an accelerated isobaric ride.
Rock music rolling in my ears, Ed Sheeran and Ellie Goulding soothing my soul, music was a great friend, never mind my strange music taste. And to reminisce and commemorate these moments, I have to listen to the song ‘shut up and dance’, which takes me back to my first week in KU.
Joining campus was like a nuclear attack on my mind. And it is not just about the size of the school. As Cleopatra would say, “If I have food, love, and freedom, my wisdom and faculties are yours”. KU gave me more, and I gave her my indulgence. In my lifetime I had never seen so many beautiful girls assembled on the same geographical locale, at the same time. This was a big deal for me. Maybe now is the time to confess that I had more crushes than the units I did in four years. Every day, I fell in love with the unpredictable idea of silently fantasizing about damsels (or should I say Mademoiselles) who injected adrenaline in my bloodstream, with their flowery selves.
I miss my signature rainbow-striped sweater. It was a true depiction of fate. Every time I wore it, I run into my main crush. Is this even possible and believable? KU has a population of over 50,000 and Mi Cielito decides to show up the exact moments I’m wearing this sweater!? What is even more painful is the fact that I never got the chance or let’s just say the nerve to express my feelings leave alone showing her my other sweaters. Did she even ever notice me? Maybe that is the brighter side. Enough of the crushes.
My first-year roommates were awesome. You could never ask for better roommates. Starting with Collo who was a professional alarm snoozer. I don’t remember one single time he woke up on the first alarm. That’s how cool he was. Waking us all with a series of over ten alarms. He was arguably the brightest of us all. How else could he be doing Aerospace Engineering?
Then there was the Hip-hop fanatic and ‘young thugger thugger’ (as he would say) fan, Avic. He knows the lyrics to every hip-hop song there is. His love for music was undisputed and now he is producing them, hit by hit.
Bill Osogo was my other roommate, classy and swanky. His suits and impeccable command of languages was quite something. One of the few people who may attempt a conversation with PLO Lumumba without struggling to fathom the jargons PLO throws around.
And of course, there was me. A religious class-attender. Speaking of, who said that people who don’t miss classes don’t have plans? I probably missed less than 5 classes in my four years in KU, all with legitimate reasons. And still, I couldn’t nail a first-class degree. The sad story of attending all classes, just to be on your phone throughout the class.
The best lesson I learned in four years is to never judge a book by its cover. People are not what they look like. I came with a programmed mind, coded with misguided assumptions. Village beliefs. To me, people with dreadlocks couldn’t just be nice. Ladies with heavy makeup and piercings were spoiled if not hoes.
Trust those who go to church, and never those that don’t. This was me, not long before experience taught me otherwise. People wear many colors. People have many chapters and episodes. You can’t just pick out one color and judge them. You cannot judge them by the chapters and episodes you walked into. Most importantly, don’t judge them by how they look or what they say. If you ever forget about me, don’t forget this.
‘We are not what we look like’