If you have not been to the four walls of the Nigerian university, an undergraduate of one, or an alumnus, this poem is just for you as it encompasses the life of someone in school as a student.
Enjoy.
It's such a relief to finally be out of that cage called the university.
That hub bub with all sorts of camouflaged wisdom of freedom but in reality a mix of foolishness and dignified rubbish
I'm glad to be out of the grasp of fake comfort and popularity, to the real world
To be able to express myself knowing there is no special reward attached to what I didn't do or should do
I'm glad I'm out of a world of unnecessary ideas that stink and make no sense.
(Although some do but we can't just see it yet).
What will I miss?
I'm still thinking.
What will?
The free rides and fake tides?
The things that are nought but made to look like all,
Maybe that.
To everyone who made the sad headlines of my story know this,
It's a pity you had to be the Judas in the Jesus story, Jesus still fulfilled purpose anyway, so who cares about Judas.
So while I focus on my goals and on my dreams, God is making out a man (oops I meant) a plan just for me.
If only we can see the future, we wouldn't do somethings we do, make those decisions or even have those friends around us.
I'm glad I'm out of the tolerance zone, where I have to put up with all gross attitude just because I may not have a better option and the environment is filled with that filth.
I'm glad I'm out of the hands of those professors and lecturers who have no value for creativity, just a regurgitation system of an archaic knowledge.
I'm out of the grasp of those that feel they own my life in the ink of a pen.
Staying in a world where a self contained, home theatred, generatored, air conditioned and wall art room and a car meant that you have arrived, arrived where, only God knows.
Let me tell you of some so-called models placed in spiritual houses to model others, in their houses they are wolves but at meetings they are sheep or should I call them wolf in shepherd clothing.
How about the ones who should serve as your security but they are the very ones who steal your security.
All those hunter boys preying on younger gullible girls or the 100 metres marathon runs girls chasing wide after their dreams in flashy cars and pot bellied men.
The beautiful faces never to be forgotten,
The songs sang and played
The wonderful things learnt
A bitter sweet experience you can call it.
Sweetness overrides the bitter part I know. Thank you Jesus for this deliverance so I call it, for I made it unharmed, safe and sound.
I'm alive and a living winner.
Thank God I made it!!!
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