By Muheeb Mashood
It was early hours of Tuesday. With anticipation, I refused to sleep after the Subr (dawn) prayer in a bid to prepare myself for the 8 o’clock lecture before I set out with other clinicians for the most awaited ‘Law Street Campaign.’
The program was co-organise by Caliphate Law Clinic, Usmanu Danfodiyo University, Sokoto (CLC-UDUS), in collaboration with Network of University Legal Aid Institutions (NULAI) to educate people about their civic rights, within the school and beyond.
Envisioned to use the opportunity to play a dual role, It was a pleasure to me as a campus journalist. I thought of nailing a fantastic story after the conclusion of the enlightenment.
But little did I know that I will become a ‘speaker carrier’ to my fellow participants.
Before you know why I was tossed by fate, Muheeb Mashood is my name, a 200-Level student of Usmanu Danfodiyo University, Sokoto from the Faculty of law, and also a senior reporter with The News Digest Press.
Dishonesty Brings Disappointment
As a program organized by a prestigious faculty and limited to its students, everyone was instructed to appear in their pride-unique dress code: white and black to easily depict our identity.
However, losing my pair of shoes to a dishonest Keke Napep rider bestowed me a unique status among my colleagues as I was hampered to appear in the prescribed attire, being the only person different among other students.
Although I was the first person to reach where the bus was parked after the end of our class, I was soon confronted with what I viewed as a “pleasant nightmare.”
After several questions from the Clinic Head, Miss Zakariyah Aisha, I was reluctantly allowed to sail with the other crews.
“You won’t join us as a clinician but rather a journalist. However, you won’t be allowed to join us tomorrow, if you fail to put on your white and black,” she said to me.
Engrossed with bitterness after my fellow participants downcasted me as a nonchalant student, I blamed myself and the Keke Napep driver.
“As a law student, you’re not supposed to dress like this. Why do you appear in this type of clothes in the first place?”, a 300-level student sitting beside me asked furiously.
Beclouded Fate turns to Pleasure
Not sooner than later, with the Sokoto scorching sun licking my body, we reached
Dendiman bus stop, where we came out and commenced our enlightenment with a walkout.
I was left doing nothing while others were occupied with their duty. With no one remembering the speaker, my busy hand assigned a new role to itself after I picked up the engine from the floor.
“I think this role fits you well since you don’t even look like someone among us”, Muhammad Shamsudeen, one of my classmates teased me.
The last drama remained to reminisce in my mind. Everyone was tired this time around as we were heading back to the bus stop after the conclusion of the session. With the vibes of the music, everyone pushed their fate towards the bus.
Suddenly I heard a shout ‘DJ, DJ’.
Answering to the shoutout, the Clinic Head said to me: “I’m the one that is playing the music but your far away distance doesn’t allow me to enjoy it.”
“As the leader, I thought that you’re playing it for the other clinicians”, I replied to the taunts.
Without doubt, I failed to feel the mimic of other students upon my fate as the speaker triggered my body to try a leg-walk but my mind composed my body, ending the walkout with surf, blooming full of gladness.