Hostel Hearts

The notice board outside Moremi Hall was a battlefield. Three hundred first years pressed against the glass, elbowing, shouting, searching for their names.

Ifunanya Eze did not elbow. She stood at the back with a cheap suitcase, a bucket, a mat rolled under her arm, and a folder that held the most important sheet of paper in her life: her scholarship letter. She had travelled eleven hours from Enugu on three buses, the last one without a roof.

"Excuse me. Please. Excuse me."

A girl in tight jeans looked her up and down, and moved aside one inch.

Ify found the sheet. Block C. Room 214. She read the name beside hers, and read it again.

Chidera Obi.

"That is a boy's name," she said aloud.

"Could be a girl," said the girl in tight jeans.

"Chidera is not a girl's name."

"Madam, I know a Chidera who is a woman."

Ify did not wait. She grabbed her bucket and went hunting for the porter. Block C smelled of boiled indomie and deodorant and wet cement. The corridor was a river of slippers. Somebody was playing Burna Boy through a speaker the size of a refrigerator. She counted doors. 210, 212.