Call it brooding or musing, I call it writing. This is what happens when you spend three hours at the gym and you return home and begin to think deeply about… things while massaging your sore muscles.
The academic staff union decided to ruin plans…yet again!
As if it hadn’t been enough, you had to live your life knowing an extra one-two years would be added to your years spent at a “public university”.
First half of a year for a semester, struggling to purchase textbooks (we call them manuals) with the little stipends you managed to save from your frustrated Folks who had been receiving “half salary” since New Year’s Eve!
Protests by dark skinny dudes holding hoes and cutlasses in their fists whose cold stares could make lecturers sense it would be advisable if their cars were parked fifty feet away from the University gates and call it a day without actually working.
Confused Student Union Government failing to see what things to make priority and alarmed student body on the future that lies ahead of them as far undergraduate years are concerned.
Education is being dragged in the mud like an old rusted wire guaze waiting to be thrown away to serve as a home for homeless things. Examination timetables revised and released over and over again with no hope of when you would actually be starting the said examination until you receive a Whatsapp message from a friend about an indefinite break ruled by the Vice – chancellor.
Then your life begins to play slowly in monochrome mode like an old Hollywood movie with static underground noise until you say to yourself “Damn! I really need a job!”