YOUR AVERAGE KNUST GIRL

I wrote this piece way before the previous one “YOUR AVERAGE LEGON GIRL” but for some reason I decided to bring this later so here we go…

 ‘‘George, it’s 4am oo. Wake up. I hope you don’t want to miss the 6am class like you did last time’’ (You can also read that in Twi). That’s the text sent from a young lady’s phone, a Nokia X2 to be precise, to a male course mate of hers preceding a phone call to rouse the same guy from his sleep. She’s up early to prepare for the accursed 6am lecture which EVERY student hates. An hour and a half after that call was made our unknown lady steps out of her room in the direction of her faculty where the demonic lecture is set to take place.

Let’s check out her outfit for a bit shall we? She’s in a Lacoste top one which looks suspiciously like her hall’s shirt (special mention to that same sex hall named after a continent) and this is over a long skirt which virtually sweeps the floor with each step she takes. In other cases, it may be a T-shirt over some jeans which hang loosely around her legs. Her hair is tightly-knitted into a rigid pun on top of her head (Professor McGonagall style)… In some cases, it’s braided. There’s little or no makeup on her face except you count the blood-red lipstick across her lips and you can imagine the clash of colours in cases where she may happen to be pitch-black. So she makes it to the lecture hall with about 30 minutes to spare and promptly makes herself comfortably in one of the front seats and my guess is this one is probably facing the lecturer directly. She’s ready to absorb knowledge or so we assume since that’s the impression she puts across. The lecture starts and she’s seen busily jotting down points and paying rapt attention, that’s what we all seem to see till we notice her head nodding off once or twice and it strikes a chord that our mystery woman is dozing off in between the class. Oh well…..

Time flies and all too soon, the class ends. She rushes up to the lecturer to seek explanation of who knows what and rushes up to meet the T.A. and whispers something into his ears. She then comes back and packs up her stuff and is seen meeting with her group members, she is most likely to be the leader as well. All signs point to the fact she will be having group studies at the parade group that evening (she usually has group studies about four times a week). Right after this George comes up (remember him?) and she tells him “I want gorb3” in so hushed a tone you would think she didn’t want to disturb the dead. Is it because she doesn’t want anyone to know she will be consuming what is the land’s trademark food? Your guess is good as mine.

 So she heads off with the guy in the direction of the  Conti dining hall and there she gets her hands on the beans aka Gorb3 complete with an egg and plantain. She stashes it quickly in her strikingly large hand bag as if she’s afraid she will be found out by unseen forces. A few hours later, she’s found sitting in the library reading up on what she and her group members will discuss later that evening and deadly farts float pointedly around her circumference and no one will trace it to her as she swears she never eats flatulence-inducing foods such as gorb3. But in her room hidden away from the prying eyes of strangers is a timetable for lunch in which this same food she’s denying like Peter denied Jesus appears six out of seven times in a week! So much for the denial…

It’s a few minutes past 4pm and she heads out of the library towards the parade ground for studies. She’s still in her Lacoste top and the same skirt which is paying homage to Asaase Yaa. Group studies are done, the guys in the group take their leave but the young lady stays behind with some of her ‘paddies’ and the conversation is basically about ‘Ei! Did you see…?’ ‘Aha! Have you heard…?’ and it goes on and on till she remembers she has another meeting to attend. If it’s a midweek Wednesday, then she’s headed for a church service and that happens a lot every week which she never misses if she could.

So it’s night time and she’s heading back to her room to go and cook

something and boom! She meets a church friend who happens to be buying some ‘check-check’ right in front of her hostel and she doesn’t ‘lose guard’ at all and claims her share. On the usual days when she doesn’t meet guys like that, she is most likely most likely cooking jollof with crabs and yes! You read that right, crabs… (apologies to FOCUS FM Filla Show)

It’s a quarter to eleven on her watch and she’s chatting heartily with a boy in her room, her room mates are also doing same and at the same time she’s whatsapping a number of guys at the same time. Too much meat never spoilt the soup. Isn’t that what they say? A few minutes to midnight and all the guys are gone. She tucks herself into bed and puts her phone away. She’s waiting for sleep to come and drag her away. Can you take a shrewd guess of who our mystery lady is? No little bird has whispered anything to me this time but a wise old woman just told me I may have just opened a daily chapter of the life of AN AVERAGE KNUST GIRL…

NB: Most the conversations that took place above were in Twi embellished with a variety of proverbs and all so mind your Rs and Ls…

Also, a percentage of what transpired in here is probably shrouded in mystery… maybe. The truth is for you to decipher. Good Day.

YOUR AVERAGE LEGON GIRL

It’s 6am somewhere on the campus of University of Ghana and the place is Block B, Pent. Precise location? One of the 2-in-a-room residencies. Here in Legon, this is the fabled hub and heartbeat of everything that transpires in the nation’s premier university.

A young lady is just rising up from bed. In the usual or not too usual case, she’s probably feeling the after effects of having ‘’turned up’’ the previous night. The hangover is real. That Tequila-Vodka mixture never tasted sweeter, the wild dance moves and all the fun in the club might have been almost heaven on earth for her. Back to our mystery lady, she rubs her eyes and slowly rises from bed. Her ‘’chrife’’ roommate is on her bed having her quiet time after last night’s all night service. Our mystery lady drags herself up and trudges into the bathroom shuffling her feet loudly. She looks into the mirror and staring back at her is this red and puffy-eyed human being with the shadow of last night’s 16cm thick makeup still showing. First things first, she washes the makeup and the sink is instantly filled with what looks suspiciously like a watery rainbow mixture. So much for the light-skinned girl you met last night in the club because after that wash down now remains a female dark knight actually looking like 12:57am at midnight. 

Fast-forward to 8:30 AM, she’s done bathing and dressed up. But hey! The ruse is not complete yet. Short, skimpy skirt exposing some thighs, check. Pushups beneath a bright-coloured top pumping the breasts to the surface, check. The fashion cloak of deception is still not complete regardless of the 350GH Cedis worth of Brazilian hair covering up that dandruff-riddled scalp. A mixture of various assorted and expensive makeup is splashed unto her face and viola! Our ‘lightie’ is back. Ruse is complete. Time to head out . She steps out in her 8 inch heels, taking one step at a time, almost like a model. She’s in no hurry and EVERYTHING on her screams attention but isn’t that the point? Oh yeah, so she takes her step bit by bit and pulls her out Galaxy S4 (a supposed gift from some ‘uncle’ who is most likely to be a bank manager somewhere) and begins to text random male numbers. A few texts to the pizza boy (terrific Tuesday is coming up), another one to the ‘’oh-come-and-pick-me-up” guy and a couple more to the “hey-boo-do-you-have-the-latest-episode-of-vampire-diaries’’ guy and the list goes on and on… She has so many guys neck deep in the friend zone and they strangely don’t even seem to be aware. Some sort of magic trick? I for one thing wouldn’t know. I’ve never been zoned.

 Time check 10:23 AM, she’s done for the day. Her first class lasted only for an hour and the rest have been called off. You can imagine her joy (well most students are happy when that happens). The ‘’oh-come-and-pick-me-up’’ guy is always ready to give her a ride around. Brunch at Tickles and she places an order for lunch as well. Not a single penny from her purse is covering the cost and the whole thing is priced roughly around the 90GH Cedis region and this is even when she is in her mercy mood and doesn’t feel like eating much. Regardless of anything, someone, some guy will foot the bill. You may be thinking ‘’oh wow! What a lucky girl she is to having all that at her disposal without a cost!” But wait, the 3 packs of Fiesta condoms in her bag, what do you think is the use? Later that night in a room full of loud, banging music (pun intended) she will be paying her dues in kind in the ‘most amazing of ways\. I believe you catch my drift. That’s the sequence and it’s almost like a series that happens with her every time.

It’s now 5:16PM and our still unknown mystery girl is seen getting down from a sleek Range Rover with a man in the driver’s seat. “Oh that’s her dad’’ you might say until she plants a wet, deep and slippery kiss on the slightly balding man’s lips. That isn’t her dad, that’s ‘Supplier 3’ as saved among her contact list. One of the numerous sugar daddies she hangs around with. She walks away as the car speeds off in simultaneous fashion. She slides the newly-signed cheque in her bag and saunters off, hips swaying in spectacular fashion.

 

Dark scenes at the Pent car park, it’s 10:54 PM and she’s seen among a group of friends laughing and screaming loudly. Only God knows what is transpiring between them at this odd hour. They begin to pair off and leave one after the other and our mystery lady is not left out, she also pairs off with one guy and they head off in the direction of his room.  Music begins to blaze from the room disturbing all around and there can be only one answer to what is currently taking place in that room. A few hours later, she’s escorted out of the room by the guy who plants a peck on her and check and she whispers ‘’Thanks for the ‘blissful’ time. Next time yeah’’. She retires to her room, worn-out and tired. Her roomie is lying on her bed reading her handouts. Our mystery lady collapses unto her bed in a heap and the lights fade… A vicious cycle bound to be repeated virtually every week. Who our mystery girl is I don’t know though a little bird just whispered into my ears we might have just seen what goes on in a day of AN AVERAGE LEGON GIRL…….