‘‘Where are you going to? Come and get your bag searched’’ a gruff voice said. Peeking through my sunglasses at the security official who was apparently talking to me, I walked over to a canopy filled with security officials and dumped my bags before a really pretty policewoman (no offence but this is kinda rare) who asked to see my call-up letter and school identity card. She looked up from the I.D card, passed it to a female colleague and said;

‘‘Na wa o! See what maturity has caused’’ and they both giggled at my picture. Granted the photo used was horrid, I was bone thin in my freshman years and had an egg-shaped head.  Still, couldn’t she have employed a little bit of subtlety?

After the initial luggage search which was carried out verbally (seriously, would I have told them I carried a bomb even if I had one securely fastened to my privates?), I proceeded slowly down the narrow path knowing full well that the next time I would probably walk down this particular path again would be on the passing-out day in three weeks *sighs*. Continue reading