Episode 1: The First Lecture
The sun over Osogbo was unforgiving that Monday morning, slapping faces with heat and stress. Students moved like a migrating swarm into the Faculty of Basic and Applied Sciences—bags bouncing, books clutched, brows dripping.
Nora Joseph, 19, Biochemistry year one, stood outside Lecture Theatre B, scanning a message from her WhatsApp group chat.
| “MTH 105 starts 8:00am sharp. Prof Kolawole no dey smile.”
She hissed and dashed in, breathless, just as Professor Kolawole scribbled “Polynomial Equations” on the whiteboard in bold, aggressive strokes.
“Latecomers will teach the next class,” he said without turning.
Nora froze. Eyes darted toward her. Some giggled. She walked to a seat quietly, head down, the sharp scent of whiteboard marker lingering in the air. This was not the Biochemistry welcome she imagined.
While trying to catch up with the equations, her biro ran out. She panicked, looking around. A hand stretched from behind her—a fresh pen.
She turned.
Him.
Not her class. Definitely not Biochemistry.
Tall, dark-skinned, face calm like it didn’t know pressure. Fitted black shirt rolled up at the sleeves. That faint scent of spice and confidence.
He nodded at her. “Use it.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, confused but grateful.
After the lecture, he stood, slung his bag over one shoulder and was already walking away when she followed him outside.
“You're not in our class,” she said, catching up.
“I know,” he replied, not stopping. “Just wanted to see if Prof Kolawole still teaches like he’s fighting his ex.”
She blinked. “So you’re what, a lecture tourist?”
He finally turned. “Final year Mechanical Engineering. Name’s Michael.”
She tried to hide her surprise. “I’m Nora.”
He smiled, walked off. No number, no extra words.
But from that day, he was all over her thoughts like her favorite perfume. She didn’t know his last name. Didn’t know if she’d even see him again. But his voice? That calm, teasing tone? It stayed.
That evening, she posted a status: “Some people walk in like they’ve been in your story all along.”
Ten minutes later, she saw it.
Viewed by: Michael
(To Be Continued)
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