Incase you missed the first part of this series, you can read it here

… Back in Naija, I paid about a million in rent for a not-so-great-looking apartment. Actually let me rephrase that “we” paid about a million per year, because I was semi -squatting  with my friend and his brother, and eventually they asked me to move in as a full time house mate (you know how we Naija people do; someone helps you out for a short while, overtime, you move in and leave during the weekends, afterwards, you bring in your own couch.) Yea, like that.

I had no idea what my apartment looked like, and I wasn’t expecting much, as I was paying half of what I pay back home… We drove into the apartment complex and I was amazed. I felt like I was driving into one of the Lekki Estates you pay through your noses for. It was a well planned, nicely-built apartment complex. Generators were not lined up on the front lawn, and there was a pool, lawn tennis, basket ball court and gym. Gymmmmmm. ok now.  In my head, for no particular reason, I heard the tune of Gangster Paradise. The apartment looked all pretty and shiny. I thought to myself, this is the life…

My housemate and I were supposed to toss a coin to decide who picked the bigger room with the walk in closet. I looked at my backpack and half empty box and figured I really had no use for a walk-in-closet, so I graciously offered him the room. Also since he did all the leg work in getting the apartment, I thought it was right. I know, I am nice like that. After such a journey, I needed to take a leak, so I walk into the rest room and then… “hey, dude, I think the toilet is blocked” he jogs into the rest room in a hurry to see whats wrong. There I am, holding captain winky :p in one hand and looking distressed because I really need to go. I point to the toilet bowl, half filled with water; I think its blocked. He smiles… and flushes the toilet. You see, he says, the toilet sucks all the water out and some swirls in from the tank above. Aha, I say, not in the least embarrassed. I have come to accept the fact that I am a true bush Naija boy who has never been to the “overs”. I shake my head, to think that I once laughed at Osuofia in London. I am wondering at this point what my flat mate thinks of me.

After unpacking what’s left of my luggage, we headed to school to pick up my welcome packet from graduate school. Once again, I was amazed, I definitely could handle going to school here, it was beautiful. Forget  OAU or UI, I chuckled to myself. The sun felt brighter to me than Naija sun, and so I saw my chances of getting fresher melt away. I mean people always came back with stories about how there’s no sun in America o, that’s why they had fresh skin. Well, there was sun, a whole lot of it.

The football team was going for a swim in the lake, and they walked past me. Instinctively, I sucked my belle. These boys were rippling with muscles with washboard flat abs, looking fit and eye candy isn for the ladies. I felt my breast… yes I said breast, it suddenly felt like my chest was protruding. My tummy too. Sigh. So I did that square shoulder, chest out, don’t care routine, but I only felt my tummy attaining more glory. At this point, I just put on my RayBans and tinted the world, they seemed to be the only sense of pride I had left, making a mental note to hit the gym in my apartment  with vengeance… WHEEEE I had a gym. I didn’t even have to cough out #25,000 for gym membership. Not like I ever paid one before. God knows I’d have loved too beht…

On the way to school, something kept scratching the back door of my mind, trying to worm its way in, but I was too carried away by all the sights and sounds and smells, and as we drove, it all came to me; there were no sidewalks, it was all high way from my apartment to school. No public transport, no body walking on the roads. I knew I was in trouble, big trouble. And then I had a aha moment. Simple, I’ll just buy a bicycle. It would help me work out and get fit. See, my parents back home ate amala and fufu for dinner, and dinner was from 10pm onward, after prayer meeting (which I used work as an excuse to run from), so you understand my proud breasts and belle. So I came to America flush with cash, ready to spend … on my bicycle, bless good old Walmart. I bought one for $100, after contemplating all the variety, keeping clear of the ones that priced at $200 and up. I was too excited. I had wanted a bike since SS1 but no one got me one, and so I got my wish. I got a boarding school size bed too known as twin sized mattress here. I got that from a place down town where donated house equipment were sold to raise money of people who needed homes. I cannot mention the price I got the bed and the bed box I got because with that sort of price, I was sure I was gonna catch lice and bed bugs  from it.. The plan was to spray it all with a disinfectant, but today, that still remains a plan. I was shocked at what it looked like…