I had just confirmed my admission to study in this noble university. As I stood there, in front of the admissions notice-board, celebrating my success again and wondering what next to do, he walked up to me.

‘Hello, my name is Agaba. What’s yours?”

I looked at him. He had the strongest Eastern Nigerian accent I had ever heard.

He smiled and immediately, I noticed he had a reasonable height, he was baby-faced and had gorgeous dimples.

“Don’t be afraid o. I am just here to help you. I can see that you are new here and I think you want to register, o kwa ya?”

“Yes”, I responded quietly, with a naïve tone.

“Ok. I’ll show you where to go.”

Agaba became my self-appointed bodyguard for the two days I spent trying to complete my registration. I tried to send him away, but he would not budge. After several attempts, I gave up. Afterall, I had plans to travel back home for the weekend when I was done; all I wanted was to quickly secure a bed space in one of the hostels and then I will get on the next bus back to my family.

While I strategized in my head, Agaba had his plans too. He wanted me to stay in the room opposite his course mate’s room but thankfully, he miscalculated and the staff in charge of that hostel gave me the keys to another room, far away from Agaba’s choice. That was my first escape from this self-imposed helper of mine…or so I thought.

I quickly secured my bed-space, placed a sheet over the mattress and ensured I had enough evidence to prove to my soon-to-be roommates that someone has already paid for and occupied that space. Excitedly, I walked out of the room, hopped on the next bus to the motor-park, ready to spend the weekend with my family before I return to start my new life as an undergraduate.

A few minutes into my journey, I realized I did not have the keys to my new room with me! Agaba!!!! He took them without my knowledge! My goodness! I thought I had dealt with this fellow forever! Then it occurred to me that all I knew about him was his nickname, Agaba, and the course he was studying. Now, I must trace him when I get back to school. I was so angry with myself!

I returned to school the next week and my first mission, of course, was to find Agaba.

I got to the building where his department was located and started asking questions. I guess my innocent, naive face worked in my favor as I ran into a group of three friends who were willing to help me find Agaba. Those three boys became my good friends from that day and the friendship continued even after we graduated.

Anyway, I found Agaba, I got my keys from him and thanked him for ‘keeping them safe’. I walked away, thinking I was done with him but I was wrong!

Agaba would stop by every evening to check on me and to know how I was doing. One day, I got tired of his daily visits and so as soon as I heard his voice, I walked up to the door, barred it with my hands, hoping he would get the message.

‘Agaba, I am profoundly grateful for all your help but I can’t keep up with your daily visits anymore. I like my space and my privacy and I would prefer if you leave me alone now.”

He looked at me, like I had just thrown a bowl of dog poop on his face. Then he smiled. There was something creepy about his smile, even though it looked cute and charming.

“Okay, no skin-pain. So which day of the week do you want me to be visiting you na?’

“You don’t have to visit me at all. I am fine and I have settled in well. Thank you but please, I beg you, don’t visit me again.”

“Nna, babe na wa for you o but if that is what you say, no skin-pain.”

He smiled. That cute, creepy smile again. I wasn’t moved. You see, I had stayed at home for two years, waiting for this admission and now that I had it, I was determined to make the best out of it and graduate with an excellent result. Hanging out, socializing or keeping a relationship wasn’t an option for me at that time, at least not in my freshman year. My major priority was to find a balance for my life first. Besides, I was gradually getting upset with his frequent use of the expression, “no skin-pain”. What did that even mean?

A few weeks later, he tried his luck again. I was on my way to my hostel after buying some of the popular ‘scientific’ meal combo, made up of fried plantains, yams, sweet potatoes, fish – name it – for dinner, when I heard a voice behind me.

‘Nne, so when are you going to lift this embargo kwanu?’

I froze on the spot! It was Agaba’s voice! This fellow had become my stalker and I was determined to put an end to it that night. I turned around, looked at him sternly and spoke.

“Agaba, I was not joking when I told you to stop the frequent visits. Again, I appreciate all your help but you are pushing this too far. I don’t want to embarrass you so please, stay away from me.”

He never came to visit me again. I saw him hanging around lecture halls a few times but I never said a word to him.

Few months after I graduated from school, I ran into another school mate. As we talked, I shared this story with him and when I was done, he said,

“I knew Agaba. He was a member of one of the dangerous cults in school. It is strange that you behaved in that manner towards him, yet you escaped without paying dearly for it.”

For a few seconds, I felt shivers.

Cold shivers.

Was it sheer luck that I escaped Agaba’s wrath or did it have anything to do with the meaning of my first name, Chinazo?

I wonder…….

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