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Overwhelmed by stressful lectures and exhausting walks, I sought refuge in the school cafeteria. That's where I met her – a stunning middle-aged woman with captivating beauty. Initially intimidated, I hesitated to approach her. But fate brought us together again that evening. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to her table. "May I join you?" I asked. She looked up, stern-faced, "I do mind, but sit if you promise not to be a nuisance." As we ate, my mind raced with assumptions: perhaps she was one of the university's tough, unapproachable women or had grown resentful due to past experiences. Determined to connect, I complimented her beauty. "Thank you," she replied, "but I can't reciprocate." Undeterred, I shared my struggles with relationships. "I don't have boy problems," she said soberly, revealing her HIV medication. My instincts screamed "run," but I realized my initial intentions were superficial. "I...

Last Thursday was unforgettable. I attended a seminar in my school, Babcock University, featuring two esteemed emeritus professors. The audience comprised of undergraduates, postgraduates, and PhD students. The professors delved into the intricacies of Karl Marx's principles, shedding light on our previously superficial understanding of Marxism. They succinctly identified the weaknesses of Nigeria's major parties, PDP and APC, and made startling predictions about the upcoming elections and Nigeria's future. Unfortunately, my course mates seemed disinterested, with some even dozing off. Perhaps the professors' in-depth analysis was too complex for them. However, I was engrossed and actively contributed to the discussion. One of the professors noticed my enthusiasm and approached me afterward. "Your insights are impressive," he said. "If you pursue your passion, you'll make a remarkable politician." His words resonated deeply. Later, a course mate ...