Hello everyone. Today I am going to depart from the norm. I just want to cobalize the inspiration for today’s story. My roommate! My people, if you know, you know! 😁 Here goes nothing.
This presentation thing was slowing turning Boma’s head upside down. Or more appropriately, her stomach. The law school divided students into groups and everybody was expected to participate in one way or the other. Today, presentation had caught up with her.
A lot of things come in pairs, either of a kind or a pair of opposites. Her bad feeling came with a good co-presenter. Emeka was wonderful, hardworking and basically, willing to carry most of the load and Lawd! Was he fine!
Her roommate was a fish though. She took one look at the guy and almost fainted. Fine, he was huge. And fine. And fine. And fine some more. He was completely crush material, but her stomach was more important right now.
Her roommaate, Kachi, self-acclaimed Igbo herbalist that she was, insisted that she had worried herself sick. Maybe she was right. Whatever.
Boma sat at the back of the class, dreading when her group (9) would be called. She already sent a text to Emeka letting him know she was a bit sick. But she would go onto that stage if it killed her. She was a finisher and not a coward.
Just then a strong sensation went through her stomach. With a warning look to Kachi, she ran out to puke, yet again. And as she ran out, she could clearly hear the lecturer call, ‘Group 9, we’ll take your presentation now’.