ONE WEEK, ONE TROUBLE (CONT'D) - by Chidinma Emilia

Week 7: The HuntWhat followed was the most elaborate scavenger hunt in Fagunwa Hall history. The clues led us through every floor of the building, into storage rooms we didn't know existed, and up to the roof where we discovered a secret garden maintained by some entrepreneurial students.Along the way, we picked up fellow victims—other students whose rooms had been mysteriously reorganized or whose belongings had been relocated according to some grand design we couldn't comprehend."This is insane," muttered Damilola as we decoded the fifth clue, which had something to do with "the place where knowledge meets hunger.""It's brilliant," corrected Emeka, who had joined our quest with the enthusiasm of someone who appreciated good craftsmanship. "Look at how they've mapped out the entire social structure of the hostel."He was right. Each clue had led us to interact with different groups of students, from the final-year seniors who controlled the common room to the international students who had claimed the top floor as their unofficial embassy. We were learning about communities within communities, each with their own traditions and hierarchies.The final clue led us to the dining hall, where we found our mattresses arranged in a perfect circle around a table laden with food from every possible vendor on campus. A banner overhead read: "Welcome to the real UNILAG. Signed, Everyone."The Committee, it turned out, wasn't some secret organization—it was literally everyone. The entire hostel had conspired to create an elaborate initiation that would force us to explore every corner of our new home and meet every type of person who lived there."You've been pranked by community," explained Musa, the security guard, who had apparently been documenting our entire journey. "This is how we make sure nobody stays a stranger." Week 8: The BalanceAs I sat in my reorganized room (which, admittedly, looked better than our original arrangement), I reflected on how much had changed since that first day when my parents dropped me off with their bags of provisions and encyclopedia of advice.I'd learned that university wasn't just about attending lectures and passing exams. It was about navigating a complex social ecosystem where your reputation was built on a combination of academic performance, social skills, and your ability to handle unexpected challenges with grace.The phone incident had taught me about community response to crisis. The bathroom politics had shown me how to negotiate scarce resources. The pranks had revealed the importance of humor in building relationships. And my slowly developing friendship with Folake had demonstrated that the best connections often came from the most unexpected places.My parents called every Sunday, always asking the same questions: How are your studies? Are you eating well? Have you made good friends? What I couldn't explain to them was that the answers to these questions were all interconnected. My studies were going well because I'd found study partners. I was eating well because I'd learned to navigate the social economy of food sharing. And I'd made good friends because I'd learned to see challenges as opportunities for connection rather than obstacles to overcome. Week 9: The RhythmBy my ninth week, I'd found my rhythm. I knew which water taps worked best at different times of day, which food vendors offered the best value for money, and which routes across campus avoided the worst traffic. I'd learned to read the subtle social cues that determined everything from where you could sit in the library to how you should greet seniors in your department.More importantly, I'd learned that everyone was figuring it out as they went along. The seniors who seemed so confident and knowledgeable had been just as confused as I was when they first arrived. The difference was that they'd learned to wear their uncertainty with confidence, to ask questions without embarrassment, and to help others without expecting anything in return.Folake and I had settled into a comfortable friendship that might have been developing into something more. She'd started saving seats for me in General Studies classes, and I'd become her unofficial tour guide to the more obscure corners of campus that I'd discovered during my various adventures."You're different from when you first arrived," she observed one afternoon as we shared plantain chips near the library. "More settled. Less frantic."She was right. The constant anxiety of not knowing what to expect had been replaced by a calm confidence that came from understanding the rhythms of my new environment. I'd learned that most problems had solutions, most people were willing to help if you asked nicely, and most disasters made great stories eventually. Week 10: The PerspectiveLooking back on my first ten weeks at UNILAG, I realized that each week had brought its own unique challenge, and each challenge had taught me something essential about surviving and thriving in a community of strangers who were all trying to figure out how to be adults.The bucket incident had taught me about resource management and the importance of backup plans. The phone mystery had shown me how quickly a community could mobilize around a shared problem. The pranks had revealed the role of humor and creativity in building relationships. And my friendship with Folake had demonstrated that the best connections often came from shared experiences rather than shared backgrounds.But perhaps the most important lesson was that university life wasn't something that happened to you—it was something you actively participated in creating. Every interaction, every choice, every response to unexpected situations contributed to the complex ecosystem that made campus life work.As I prepared for my first semester exams, I felt grateful for the chaos that had brought me to this point. The troubles of each week had become the foundation of my confidence, and the friendships I'd built through shared struggles had become the safety net that made taking risks feel possible.My parents had been right about one thing—Lagos wasn't Ibadan. But they'd been wrong about something too. It wasn't about being smart enough to survive the city. It was about being open enough to let the city teach you who you could become. Epilogue: One Semester, One StoryAs I write this, it's the end of my first semester at UNILAG. My room is decorated with photos from various adventures, my phone contacts list reads like a directory of the most interesting people I've ever met, and my understanding of myself has expanded in ways I couldn't have imagined when I first arrived.The mysterious Folake has become my study partner, my adventure companion, and quite possibly my girlfriend—though we're still figuring out the details of that particular development. Tobi has evolved from a strange roommate into a philosophical brother who can make me laugh even during the most stressful exam periods. And the broader community of Fagunwa Hall has become a chosen family that supports, challenges, and occasionally drives me completely insane.The title of this story—"One Week, One Trouble"—might suggest that each week brought problems to be solved. But I've learned that what I initially saw as troubles were actually opportunities for growth, connection, and discovery. Each challenge had been a doorway into a deeper understanding of how to live successfully in a community of peers.Next semester will bring new challenges, new friendships, and probably new types of chaos I can't even imagine yet. But I'm ready for whatever comes next, armed with the knowledge that every trouble is also an adventure, every problem is also a chance to learn something new, and every week is another opportunity to become the person I'm meant to be.After all, this is just the beginning of my UNILAG story. And if the first semester has taught me anything, it's that the best stories are always collaborative efforts, written by communities of people who choose to turn their individual struggles into shared triumphs.The real education, I've discovered, happens in the spaces between classes—in the conversations that stretch late into the night, in the shared meals that become celebrations, and in the quiet moments when you realize that you're exactly where you're supposed to be, surrounded by exactly the people you're meant to meet.One week, one trouble. One semester, one story. One life, one adventure at a time.

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