The second path

A PUNGENT ODOR FILLED ORE"S NOSTRIL AS SHE STEPPED FOOT INTO KING JAJA HOSTEL, BLOCK A.

She wrinkled her nose and the effort made a rectangular box she was holding slide from under her arm and clatter on the cement floor. Ore gasped as her coloured panties and bra's came into the open view. All around her, she could hear snickers and laughs from the girls nearby. They stood watching her from the doorway to their shabby rooms and Ore felt her coffee, brown eyes burn with tears. Why did this have to happen on the first day?She heaved a deep sigh as she proceeded to pick up the contents that were strewn on the ground. Her shaky hands fumbling here and there. "EWO, a girl screamed. Her voice echoed loudly and some of the hostellers who had retreated to go about their various activities, poked their head through their ajar doors. "See person pant for gutter," she added amidst fits of laughter. [See someone's pant in the gutter] Ore wiped her tear as she peered over the dirty gutter. Surely enough, her favourite pink lace panties was staring back at her. "Ahhh," she breathed. There was no way she was stepping in there to get it, it was now expired and she felt her heart sink at the brutal fact. As she slowly stood up to search for the girl who had mocked her, pairs of curious eyes stared at her as if she had grown two heads. "Wetin you dey look ehhn?" she asked, staring at each one of them boldly. "Una never see pant before?" [What are you all looking at?] [Haven't you guys seen panties before?] Without waiting for an answer from anyone, she packed the remainder of her undies and packaged them back into the box, snapping the lock in place. As she struggled with her heavy luggages, she grunted in disbelief. So, no one wanted to help her? She thought to herself as she began to reason which path would lead to her wing. To her left was a long row of rooms with wire meshed ropes for hanging clothes in front. The cemented pavement looked clean with no stray litter. She guessed that was wing a because she once heard they had a high neatness culture. Adjacent to wing a was a similar scenario. Only this time, there was a dustbin sporting trash which piled up to the extent that some were pouring on the ground, making the whole area look messed up. It was obvious that was wing b. To her right was a familiar display of stoves that were lined up as if there was an unseen competition. They were in different colors. Some were in shades of green, red, and even a dull yellow. Thankfully, there was no trash can in sight and the place looked somewhat presentable. She suspected it to be wing C. The rest wings were close to the main entrance and Ore had forgotten the route she followed in entering. She spat out in anger, "I need help someone." "No directions to take, " she muttered. As she was about retreating with her bags and baggage, someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Oreoluwa thinking it was the same douche that made fun of her earlier , made a sharp u-turn with a witty comment in mind. But, who she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. The beautiful chocolate skinned girl beamed at her from behind thick framed glasses. Her dark brown eyes wore a mixture of curiosity and concern making Oreoluwa relax her stiff shoulders a bit. With the way the girl was making nervous gestures, Ore thought she had to be a Year One student like her. They both stood staring awkwardly at each other, the later was wriggling her hands and searching for what to say. "Are you new here?" she managed. Ore swallowed her spittle and nodded her head. This caused her to loosen up and pull Ore into a side hug. Ore stifled the smile that threatened to escape her lips. This was the one person who had shown her that at least she cared ever since she stepped foot in the school. The rest casted her worried glances and went on their way. After a full minute, the petite-curvy shaped beauty introduced herself. 'AR; 4 m Mercy, '" she bubbled. "'I am'"ats a¿Year one studenäputho arrived on câmpus two weeks Say ents Aa Oreoluwa laughed at the way she tried to speak american english. It was obvious from her accent and intonation that she was a born and brought up warri girl. "I am Oreoluwa, all the way from Lagos," the newly admitted made a short introduction. "You sabi speak?" Ore countered, forgetting her plight for a minute. [Can you speak your language?] "Ahhh, why not?" Mercy remarked shyly as she twirled one of her box braids in her index finger. "Okay," Ore replied and for some seconds, silence stretched on between them, making the air dense. "Ehhnn, I forgot to ask you," Mercy said. "Do you have a wing or room number?" Oreoluwa held one of her suitcase .