I remember a series of occurrence in my undergraduate years
that I’d like to share. Although I still stammer now, it is largely suppressed
and a miracle I will forever celebrate in my life. I actually speak and do
presentations before large audiences now; it was impossible in my university
years. Stammering is usually associated with stress. If you are a stammerer and
find yourself stammering so much at any particular period, take a break and
give yourself some good rest. I never knew this then. Even if I did, I wouldn’t
have done anything about it then. 100 level was very stressful. For example, to
make one payment, you might get to school by 7:00 am and leave around past 6:00
pm.
Getting done with clearance was something to celebrate for.
And when we thought we were through with the unbearable stress of clearance,
lecturers started bombarding us with assignments upon assignments. They ensured
we had permanent frowns and strains on our faces.
With all that stress, talking was a very difficult thing for
me to do. I had to ask directions to practically everywhere because I was a
fresh student. The worst was when I had to pronounce words that begin with L, M
or H. Sometimes while stammering, the person I was trying to get directions
from would walk away. He probably had a lecture to catch up with and the words
weren’t coming out. Some others will smile and patiently wait. It was so
embarrassing. I considered writing down my questions but I didn’t want to give
the impression that I was dumb. So, I stood my grounds and stammered on. To add
to the wahala, it gave me chest pains
to stammer. Consequently, I got to the hostel each day with pains in my chest.
100 level na wa!
In my department, we were quiet few in number. Somehow, I
was chosen as the assistant course representative. The first day, I conversed
with the course rep, he stammered so much. I met my match that day. To make
light of the situation, I smiled and said, “ah
ah now, if you want to talk, talk. Stop cracking.” We both laughed and it
was cool because afterwards, he would crack and I would crack and we both
cracked together. Cracking, then, became beautiful because I didn’t need to
feel embarrassed cracking before a fellow cracker.
One cool evening, as I left the school after studying, a guy
approached me. He stood before for five minutes before he spoke. I was
surprised because I knew I wasn’t that pretty that a guy would be dumbfounded
standing before me. I also knew my hair
was not on fire, what could it be? When he finally spoke, I had to hold myself
from laughing.
“Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-what is
your name?
“Vivian.”
““Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo…?” I didn’t wait for him
to finish. I quickly answered, guessing what the question would be.
“Education Biology. 100 level.” I had to cool down and wait
the next ten minutes for him to introduce himself to me. My brothers and
sisters, no be small thing. His name
was Emeka. When he said he was in third year, I felt pity for him. How was he
coping in school with this kind of heavy cracking? In fact, it wasn’t just
cracking; it was computer shut down. He finally landed- he liked me. Most of
what he said, I had to deduce because I could barely hear what he was saying. I
told him I would think about it but I knew I wouldn’t go out with him. How
would we communicate seeing we both crack? Through sign language? I imagined
marrying someone like him. Our children will simply be dumb (lol).
Brother Ignatius-he was a nice brother in fellowship that
had a sweet smile for everyone. Sometimes, he would accompany the smile with a
hand wave. We all loved Brother Ignatius. He never greeted, he just smiled and
waved. One day Brother Ignatius decided
he would greet me. Why me? Why not
someone else in fellowship? By the time he was done saying good afternoon, five
minutes had passed. Of course, he didn’t stop that day. Every fellowship day,
Brother Ignatius would greet me. I would
patiently wait for him to finish with a kind smile and kind look on my face.
One day, he took it a step higher and asked for my phone number. I gave it to
him. Whenever he called, I would tell everyone in the room to keep quiet; that Brother
Ignatius was calling. I would then wait for five minutes on the phone for
Brother Ignatius to just say hello and ask how my day went.
After a while,
Brother Ignatius said he wanted us to talk over midnight call. I nearly
fainted. Why me? We spend 5-10 minutes just to exchange pleasantries in the
day, how long would it take in the night; especially judging by the fact that
the call would be free and Brother Ignatius would be free to crack as long as
he wanted? Why wouldn’t Brother Ignatius write what he wanted to say in a note
and I would reply? Whenever he asked for a date, I would give an excuse.
Finally, I had to give him a date. On the d-day, I dreaded nightfall and
especially 2:00 am, our appointed time. When he finally called, I nearly cried.
I battled with sleep on my end, and thunderstorm from his end. He stuttered so
much, I pitied his teeth and lips.
Brother Ignatius just called me that midnight to know how I
was and how I was coping in school. That night, as he cracked, I concluded that
Emeka is simply an orator. With Emeka, it was computer shutdown. With Brother
Ignatius, NEPA took the light.
Twitter/Instagram: @club7teen
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