Being a helper

The sweltering heat in the little General studies office pierced through my pores. Sweat ran down my face and neck in rivulets,

disappearing down my shirt.

A wet patch had already formed underneath my shirt sleeves; my skin had already begun to itch unbearably making me even more uncomfortable than I already was.

I retrieved a notebook from the bag slung over my shoulder and began to frantically fan myself.

I was parched but couldn't leave the office as I needed to register my compulsory general studies(GST) textbooks before collecting them at the bookshop so I could write the first semester examinations without worrying about missing GST results.

The thin, middle-aged, bespectacled man was taking forever to attend to me though I'd been standing in his office for an hour.

When I arrived at his office in the morning around eight-thirty a.m, he had told me to stand and wait for him to go through all the documents on his table and I complied.

Thirty minutes later, he dared to bring out his food flask and start eating right in front of me who hadn't had anything for breakfast.

"Oh, you are still here young lady. Take a seat," He said.

I resisted the urge to grumble a snarky comment and sat on the chair in front of his desk.

I handed over the slip I had gotten from the bookshop to the man whose name I didn't bother finding out and waited for him to write down my name, matriculation number, and department in the thick cover notebook on his desk.

I had never seen anyone write so slow in my life.

He handed the slip back to me with his signature scrawled on the back.

"Take this back to the bookshop for collection of your textbooks," He said, returning his gaze to the pile of papers on his right.

"Thank you, sir," I mumbled and walked out of the office, thankful that I was finally out of the heat of the office.

I marveled at how the man survived in such terrible working conditions.

While putting my notebook which I improvised as a fan into my bag, I noticed a curvy, brown-skinned girl of average height walk past me with harried steps and into the GST office with a frustrated look on her face.

My curiosity got the better of me as I inched closer to the door of the office.

The girl's teary voice floated out the door.

"Sir, please, I'm a third-year law student, coming from Umuahia. This is my third time coming here sir and the GST results on my portal haven't changed. Please help me, sir, what is there isn't my result and I can't carry over these courses sir. Please," She begged.

"Young lady, I have told you what to do already. You have to bring the sum of twenty thousand naira to me or else I can't help you. If you can't do that, please leave my office."

The girl continued begging and I began to feel sorry for her but I didn't want to involve myself in her business so I resolved to make my way to the bookshop and take care of my problems.

While walking away, something in me made me pull out my phone for the umpteenth time that week to check if Tobi had replied to any of the messages I had sent or tried calling me back.

I felt like I was an obsessed person who couldn't deal with a few days of otherwise forced separation.

I kept refreshing my messages, my WhatsApp Messenger, and my Facebook messenger hoping that maybe he had sent something I had missed.

Still, there was nothing. Just radio silence.

Letting out a sigh of resignation, I dropped my phone back into my bag and made to leave the office block just as the girl from earlier rushed past me wiping tears from her face. Against my earlier decision, I grabbed her hand, halting her steps.

"Hey, I kind of overhead what went down in the office and I think I could help."

Something I registered as hope sparked in her eyes as she finally wiped up all the tears from her cheeks.

"Seriously? You can? Please do tell?" She asked, holding onto my hands with a pleading look on her face.

"One of my roommate's friends is also in her third year and she had the same problem as you until she resolved it without giving that wicked and corrupt man a single dime.

"She just went to the lecturers of all the GST courses that she had problems in, requested to see her test and exam scores, confirmed them, got a signed handwritten letter from the lecturers, and then went to ICS for it to be uploaded to her portal. I believe she had the aid of her course representative though," I explained.

"Oh my God. I didn't even know about that. They just told me back at the law faculty to come straight here. You are a true lifesaver. Thank you so much. My name is Bella by the way. Could I get your number in case I'm stumped at any point?" She asked, the previous panic and frustration in her eyes had disappeared and was replaced by a burning flame of hope and enthusiasm.

"You're very welcome. My name is Chisom. I'm a first-year student so I'm not sure of how these things go, but you can call me and I would get more information from my roommates." I said, typing my number into the phone she handed to me.

She hugged me unexpectedly and since I wasn't someone that freely gives or receives hugs except to family and close friends, I stood there, awkwardly patting her back.

After releasing me, she waved at me and left with a smile on her face.

Happiness flooded my being at being able to actively help someone even while my heart was filled with sadness at the way I was being ignored by Tobi without reason.

I finally collected my books from the bookshop and returned to my hostel. I had just finished having a bath when my phone lit up with a call from Tobi.