By Habeeb Olokooba
As I stepped into the UDUS ETF3 on this day, one need not be told that the hall is a faith-deciding one. The unusual decorum of the gathering that welcomed my entrance was the tell-tale sign. The unusual sullenness of adults and young adults could mean either of two things, either they are in trouble, or they are hopeful about something crucial.
On this day, the latter was the case. If you are a Danfodite you can imagine the naivety in my eyes as a boy in his late teens leaving home for the first time. Without Wasting time, I got myself a seat and I can say my confirmation letter did not come with much stress. Within two hours I already received mine, most people I later got to know were not so lucky.
As I meandered through the corridors of the confirmation Hall, after receiving my confirmation letter, I sighted a familiar face, Abduljabar, who happened to be the Special prefect of my set in Secondary School. Aside from his post, I hold him in high esteem for his intelligence. A few seconds into our conversation, I started to find a way to be of service to him. Originally, I was to join my brother in his private apartment when I stormed the Caliphate for my confirmation letter.
Because my brother was still at home, I decided to bring Abduljabar in, since he had no place to stay, pending the time my brother returned. As a Jambito, my candid advice is for you to know people well before taking them in. I told my brother about Jabar and his pitiable situation which he advised me against, but I was keen to help my old friend.
“This your friend, you know it’s not easy to tell people to go after taking them in,” *Dare my brother had said. “And besides, strangers can be harmful to you as a Jambito,” he continued.
However, upon several pleas from me and assurance that Abduljabar was a good person, my brother gave in, though he never failed to warn me.
“Well, you can allow him. But *Kamal, don’t say I didn’t warn you oo,” He emphasized.
I wish I had listened to the empirical warnings and premonitions. Just a few weeks into Jabar’s company, all wasn’t going well. Until then, humanity was all I chose, but after a while, I regretted this ugly voyage with my kinsman in a home far from home. We got along well. But Jabar, aside from being a dirty freak, is a waste. He will cook food he knows we can’t finish and after a few hours, we will be forced to pour the rest away. Within four weeks, we already exhausted my foodstuffs and his shallow foodstuffs, already down the sack too.
Most times, Jabar will keep dirty and sweaty clothes in the room, making the atmosphere unpleasant. On one occasion I had asked,
“Bobo, when you go wash these clothes?”
“Bro I will get it all washed by the weekend,” Abduljabar said.
Talk of other dirty stuff you could imagine. He’d pile up dirty plates. If I didn’t wash them, then that’s all. I was the one tidying up the room and all he was good at was eating and sleeping. We end up going days without talking to one another.
We were battling malice on one occasion when my brother came back. As he knew vividly what was going on, he told me he didn’t have food for my friend, that the foodstuff he brought was for the both of us.
Severally pleaded to my brother to ask my friend to leave but he didn’t yield to my plea. He said the guy will stay till the session ends. Most times, Dare will just come home to bathe or eat and then leave for his friend’s place to sleep.
He made sure I was facing my mess alone. He helped me manage things by ensuring that I no longer wasted food. Well, that was how my good heart turned out to be a nightmare.
Had to manage a whole semester playing hide and seek with this friend of mine. The agony of people choosing the wrong roommates is a thriving one. In my case above, Jabar might not be at fault. Because it is obvious that we all receive different training from the various parts of the country we come from. However, a lot of people are in this mess. Granting asylum to people they don’t know that well and these almost strangers didn’t disappoint in making sure they regret their actions. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t help people when you can but not at the expense of our convenience.
As a typical Yoruba boy, I wasn’t trained to look away when I saw my brother in need. It’s a betrayal to “Alájobí” and the spiritual force that binds us as a clan. But it was my fault for not rummaging his kind of person and ascertaining if his character was worth it.
(All names used in this piece have been changed to conceal the identity of the characters involved).