Sorry about that, she's always that way,' a girl said beside her.

She jumped and swiveled her gaze to her, not knowing when she had sidled up next to her. She was a petite girl with rich chocolate skin and twinkling coal-black eyes. Her forehead was tight and shiny from the new Allback cornrows her hair was plaited into and had a fragrance of all those haircream that smelled like they should belong to the confectionery. An old, jagged scar, shaped like a crude line and about an inch or two long protruded from the skin of her shiny forehead, marring the reflective flawlessness.

'Sorry if I startled you,' the girl said, skipping forward, and Eartha continued walking to keep up with her.

'She's the head house mistress and believes being grouchy is in her job description or something.'

'She's always like that?' Eartha asked, laying emphasis on the 'always'.

'Always,' the girl confirmed. 'So, don't feel like she singled you out or something. You are even lucky to get off lightly like that. When she's extremely offended she would have beat you with anything near her.' The girl tsked and then shrugged.

'Although I think she isn't doing that now because parents are around,' she continued. 'Let them be gone now and real punishment starts for any girl unlucky enough to annoy her.'

Eartha shuddered in fear. 'And nobody reports or something?'

The girl laughed. 'Report to whom?' She laughed again. 'Welcome to hostel life. You'll get used to it.'

She had a slight dimple on her right cheek which showed whenever she smiled or laughed, and she looked like she did a lot of that.

Eartha recognized a talkative when she encountered one.

'Wow,' she said.

'I like your name, by the way,' the girl said, slowing down as they manoeuvered through cars and crowds. 'Mine is Yaseerah.'

'Nice name,' Eartha said. 'Is it a muslim name?'

'Arabic,' Yaseerah said. 'It means 'rich woman'. And, yes, I am a Muslim. What does your name mean? I've never heard it before.'

'Um, it's a coinage from the word 'earth'.' She had explained this to so many people that it was now more of a mantra than an explanation to her.

'Wow.' The girl's twinkling eyes went wide in awe. 'I like your parents.'

Eartha wasn't sure why she had said that, but she just smiled in reply and asked, 'What class are you?'

The girl looked around her age or younger and she was a resuming student because she was in the house wear, too.

'JSS3. What about you?'

'I'm starting SSS1,' said Eartha. Mr Kosoko's car appeared in view and it suddenly occurred to her that her new friend might have passed her parent's car.

'Where is your parents' car? Or have you dropped your loads already?'

'No. They're at the parking lot there.' She pointed to the second parking lot Eartha had seen on their way here. 'Thank God my box has tyres, if not, I'd have had to carry it all the way down here. They don't allow parents to enter the hostels, you know.'

'Oh,' Eartha said. She hadn't been expecting that news. Mother was going to be displeased on hearing this.

'That's the car I came in,' she said, as they reached the front of the red Nissan. There was another man at the car now and he was deep in conversation with Mr Kosoko. Mother was at the boot of the car, facing away from them towards the school buildings in the distance.

A slight gasp escaped Yaseerah's lips. 'Is that your daddy?'

'Who?' Eartha looked confused. Then she realized she was referring to the dwarf man.

'Oh, no, no. He's my father's friend. My father is not around, so he brought me and my mother. We came from Lagos.'

They arrived at the car and stopped.

'Wow. I've never been to Lagos before. I live here in Ogun State. What is Lagos like?'

Eartha struggled to grab words. She didn't know what to say exactly. She had never been asked to describe where she was from before.

'It's . . . big,' she said, cringing inside at the lame reply and then quickly switched the topic. 'Why are you in boarding school if you live near?'

Yaseerah shrugged. 'I don't know. I just prefer boarding house to home. All my elder brothers and sisters passed through this school and went to boarding house, too.'

'Oh, really?'

'Yes.' Yaseerah shrugged again, smiling. Her eyes caught somebody waving at her from the parking lot in the distance and she grinned widely at the person, waving back. 'I have to go now. Nice to meet you, Eartha. We'll still see at hostel, we're in the same block, I'm in Floor 1 though, but we'll still see.'

'Nice to meet you, too, Yaseerah. See you soon.'

'Yes,' Yaseerah said and started to skip away then turned back 'Oh, and you have to remove your attachment. I was surprised the witch woman didn't see it. They won't allow it in the hostel.' And she was gone.

Eartha touched her head, amused. She had almost forgotten about it. Her long, wavy hair was packed in a very tight bun and must have looked like attachment to the girl. She wasn't going to cut it, though. The school had informed Father that she could keep it, as long as she had it packed up or braided.

'You made a friend already.' Mother's tone of voice reeked of surprise.

'Yes,' she said proudly. 'Her name is Yaseerah.'

'She seems like a talkative.' Mother chuckled. 'It'd be a good influence on you.'

Eartha forehead drew in at this. 'Mother!'

'Am I not telling the truth?' Mother smiled. 'You need to be more vocal.'

'There is nothing wrong with how I talk, Mother.'

'Má bínú,' Mother said, although she didn't look sorry. 'What did they say there?' she asked, referring to the canopy she had gone to.

'They gave me my hostel and room number. I'm number 321, that's a long number.'

'It's because of the W that starts your surname,' Mother said. 'What bunk did you get? Is it lower?'

'No, ma. Upper bunk.'

Mother made a displeased face at this but then shrugged it away. 'Oya what are you waiting for, let's take your luggages in.'

'Parents aren't allowed to enter, Mother.'

'Whatever is wrong with this people sef? If we parents aren't allowed to enter, then who will? I expected it anyway. But let me help you carry one to the entrance, that portmanteau looks heavy.'

'Don't worry, Mother. I can handle it,' Eartha was quick to say. How would it look like if her mother followed her all the way to the hostel?

'If you insist,' Mother said and made for the other side of the car where her loads were.

'Take your mattress and a broom first, then you sweep the bunk and your cupboard to prepare for the rest of the loads.'

'No, Mother,' I have to take everything at once for check in.'

'Oh, okay. Do that then. Is everything complete? Check o.'

'Everything is complete.' Mother had already asked almost ten times when they were packing her things in the car at Mr Kosoko's house.

'They said we are to pay hundred naira as hostel dues.'

'Extortionists,' Mother muttered, hissing softly. But she lifted out her purse from her handbag, anyway.

When Mother was angry at anybody (that wasn't Eartha herself) she tended to speak big English.

'After you finish sweeping your bunk, spray that Rambo* piff-paff** into every corner of the wood. Every corner o! Because bedbugs are rampant in hostels.'

'Where is it?' Eartha didn't remember seeing any Rambo insecticide in her things.

'It's somewhere in that Ghana Must Go bag. Oya be quick. And when you're done packing your foodstuff and others into the cupboard make sure to lock it up before coming back here, things get stolen a lot in hostels.'

'Yes, Mother.' She bent to pick up the mattress from where it rested against the side of the car wondering how her mother knew so much about hostels if she'd claimed she had never been to one in her life.

'Eartha, don't forget to spray that piff-paff o. Bedbugs suck blood.' Her mother repeated, knowing how forgetful her daughter could be sometimes.

'I won't forget.' She picked up her mattress and the carton and started walking towards Block A, which was just on her left side. She was so close to the building that she could even hear the din coming from some rooms inside.

She passed by Mr Kosoko, who was still engaged in a conversation with his friend, something about politics.

Very boring, she thought.

*Rambo - a brand of insecticide.

**Piff-paff - the powder type of Rambo, called this because of the sound it makes when the powder is squeezed out of the rectangular bottle.

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