Writers 
Back in my 200 Level at the University of Abuja (Permanent Site), I had this home girl, my course mate and fellow Igala babe. She had just gotten married and was newly pregnant.
One day after lectures, she asked me to make her noodles. I agreed, and we went to my hostel since she stayed off-campus in Gwagz.
I lit my gas cooker and started cooking. While the noodles were on the fire, someone called me upstairs to the 3rd floor to check something. I left for just a few minutes.
The next thing I heard was screaming! Girls were running out of the hostel.
I asked, "What happened?!"
Someone shouted, "A room downstairs is on fire!"
I ran downstairs as fast as I could and guys, it was MY ROOM!. I started screaming and calling my friends' names.
Everyone was staring at me.
Then my friend grabbed me from behind. I turned and shouted, "What happened?!"
She said she was trying to stir the noodles when the burner came loose while the flame was still on.
Omo everything in my room got burnt.
Security arrived. The Vice-Chancellor even came to the scene.
At that point, I honestly just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
So security officials stormed in, furious. Everyone's eyes immediately turned to me, and I had to explain what happened. But I couldn't stop myself from crying, and somehow, that seemed to make them even angrier.
They accused me of shedding crocodile tears. Honestly, I didn't know what else they expected me to say. I could tell they believed I had some hidden motive.
Later that evening, our Vice-Chancellor, Prof. Adelabu, came to inspect the situation. He was an elderly man who wore a hearing aid in one ear, so I had to move closer to explain everything. I cried throughout my explanation.
After listening, he looked at me and asked, "What's your name again?"
I replied, "Achenyo Faith."
Without saying much else, he reached into his pocket, brought out some cash, handed it to me and said, "Go and buy a new mattress and pillows. Then report to the security unit tomorrow after you've done so."
The first thing that came to my mind was, "Ahhh Daddy you won't onboard me?"
My roommates and I went into Gwagwalada that evening, bought new mattresses and pillows for everyone, and returned to sleep in the same room. The whole room was pitch dark after the fire, and none of us could sleep properly.
My course mate later contacted my mum, and my parents sent me a new phone since mine had been destroyed in the fire.
Not long after, our room was repainted, and I became one of the few hostel students who had the VC's personal phone number. If there was no water or the generator failed to come on, we could call him directly.
Prof. Adelabu wasn't just a Vice-Chancellor, he was like a father to the students.
He would visit the hostels and randomly share recharge cards with students standing outside. One Easter, when many of us couldn't travel home, he slaughtered a whole cow and shared the meat between the male and female hostels.
Prof. Adelabu was truly a good man. May God continue to bless him wherever he is.
