By: Oladosu Hiqmah Oyindamola
What really happens when a teenager leaves the comfort of home and is placed in an unfamiliar building full of strangers, all trying to figure out life at the same time? What happens when she meets the exact opposite of what she once anticipated? What happens when she realizes that she has no choice but to do her very best to survive and make the most of every moment?
As a fresher looking forward to my stay in the hostel I had heard so much about, shock was an understatement for what I felt when I finally witnessed the real life of students in the hostel. After what felt like days, I was registered into a room meant for six occupants. I was the only one in the room at the time, so I deduced that the others had not been registered yet, or perhaps they had not resumed. I was enthusiastically looking forward to meeting and connecting with them.
The room was nothing short of my expectations. My elder sister was once an occupant in the great Queen Idia Hall, so I had heard quite a lot about it. From the incessant roaming of grasscutter-like rats that seem to have made it their mission to steal students’ foodstuffs and provisions, to the almost impossible queue of students in front of the four taps, all scrambling to fetch water for themselves. The most frustrating part is when one person brings ten or more bowls and buckets to fill while others are still waiting for their turn. This has to be one of the situations that made me dislike Queen Idia Hall for providing only four taps for nearly one hundred and fifty students in B Block, where I was an occupant.
Oh, I should talk about the restrooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen. The kitchen, to be fair, looked haggard and rugged, likely from years of constant use by students. It was not the most inviting space, and at first glance it gave the impression of a place that had seen better days. Signs of neglect were noticeable, including the occasional movement of large rats, which made the environment unsettling.
And the bathrooms and restrooms? Oh, don’t even get me started. I was always reluctant to use them because of the crowd and the hygiene issues. If you have an 8 a.m. class and you are not queuing in front of the bathroom corridor before 6 a.m., then you either plan to bathe outside in the open or you will probably go to class without bathing. The cleaners tried their best by cleaning them every morning, but it was always surprising and disgusting to find them dirty again before the day even ended. And that is because some occupants of the hostel had proudly accepted the role of dirt ambassadors.
Now let me talk about the students. The overly dramatic occupants of the hostel, mostly freshers like myself, though I would like to believe I was not part of the dramatic category. The character you display is often the greatest determinant of the kind of relationship you will have with your roommates and other occupants. If you are not naturally calm, I can assure you that arguments will become a regular part of your hostel experience. From roommate misunderstandings to drama across rooms, every moment came with its own lesson.
When I first met my roommates, I knew my experience with them would be nothing short of friendship mixed with drama and a little chaos. Perhaps even a little more chaos than expected. They were dramatic in their own unique ways, and sometimes I could spend the whole day simply watching their antics like it was a movie.
At first, I believed all I needed to do was remain calm, gentle, and composed when relating with them. But as time went on and we became more familiar with one another, I started to loosen up and become freer around them. I soon realized that living with different personalities requires more than calmness. It demands patience, understanding, and sometimes intentional silence.
I learned that respect is the foundation of any shared space. Sharing a room meant sharing habits, moods, secrets, responsibilities, and sometimes even food. Slowly, strangers became sisters, and that small hostel room became a safe haven. Hostel life stretched me emotionally and socially in ways I never imagined. It taught me that maturity is not measured by age, but by how well you handle people.
Looking back, I realize that your experience with your roommates can be unforgettable if you learn how to relate well with others. In the end, it was not just about living together. It was about growing together.
Amidst laughter, chaos, arguments, and misunderstandings, I learned and grew in ways I never imagined, even in my wildest dreams. The hospitality we showed one another made the room feel like home. From cooking and cleaning together to late-night talks and even the silliest fights, every experience became a goldmine of memories.In the end, hostel life taught me a lesson that no classroom ever could: living with people is an art. It is the art of patience when tempers rise, of understanding when differences clash, and of love when pride tempts you to withdraw.
And now I understand that the true beauty of shared spaces is not in comfort or convenience, but in the character they build within you. If you can master the art of living with others, you can survive and even thrive. Anywhere, any day, any place.
