”Getting swayed off course by the wind of distractions can really destroy dreams ”.

My hard work has finally paid off. Who knew I, Seyram would be walking on the campus of Harvard and call it my school. I pinched myself a number of times hoping I wasn just dreaming. No, it turned out to not be a dream.

I held my suitcase and dragged it along the hallway. My head kept moving left and right trying to find my room number C3 on the doors.

After several minutes of searching, finally C3 caught my attention. I opened the door and my eyes were greatly sore by the obscene scenery they were welcomed with.

There stood a couple getting comfortable enough to kiss in the middle of the room. God knows the adult movie I would have witnessed if I arrived later.

I cleared my throat trying to get them to realize my presence. At first they looked a little startled but after a few minutes, I saw annoyance crawling unto the ladies face.

Don you know how to knock, she spoke in a tone that signified her displeasure for my interruptions. Sorry that I disturbed… whatever was going on here but this is also my room so I would appreciate it if you respected me and kept all this out of my sight I will love it.

I expected her to get angry and fire at me but her stone cold face melted into a rather remorseful one. She whispered something into her boyfriends ear but was loud enough for me to hear. We would finish this later okay. After which he excused himself.

There was a moment of awkward silence in the room. We said absolutely nothing for sometime until she finally broke the silence lurking around us.

I am really sorry about what you just saw, I had no idea you would walk in unexpectedly. I accepted her apology and even apologized for also walking in without knocking which I admit was rude of me to do. I didn want to get into problems with anyone on my first day, not even my roommate. As my eyes scanned the medium sized bedroom I noticed that two bed were situated at two sides of the room.

My name is Rebecca but Becky is what I like to be called, she said while walking towards me. I am Seyram, I responded. She took some of my luggage and set them up by one of the beds in the room. Which country are you from? You don sound American, she sat on her bed while I moved towards my bed and fell on it. I am from Ghana.

West Africa right? she continued. I nodded in response. Welcome to Harvard, she added. I looked around the room and realized how big this place is. I lived in a bungalow back in Ghana, my room could be the size of an icecube as compared to this.

The bathroom and toilet is behind that door and the kitchen is right that way, she further pointed out the various places in the room. So what course are you offering? I started taking out the things in my suitcase and arranged them at my side to the room. Law and you?

Journalism, was my answer. After arranging my belongings at their respective places, Becky offered to show me around which I accepted. After showing me the dining, library, Harvard Art Museums, the conference rooms etc. Everything is in close proximity so its easy to move around. She took me to the Flour Bakery +Café were we ordered some smoked turkey sandwiches to eat. It was so tasty even though it was new to me because in Ghana our foods are entirely different though there are some foreign restaurants which serve these type of foods but they are not for broke people like me.

How are you enjoying the states so far? she asked with her mouth still packed with food. I really haven explored it much. Its a huge country so I can be everywhere but I will love to visit New York, Los Angeles, Hawaii and more.

Well, this is Boston and I be showing you around gradually but right now I assume you must be worn out from your trip and everything.

Hey… Uh Becky, I called out her attention as she was clearly enjoying her food. Which part of USA are you from? I questioned. She swallowed her food in her mouth before she attempted to speak. I am from Norman Oklahoma. I am in Boston for school sake, she explained. She then proceeded to ask me about Ghana and how it is. She even said she thought Africa was nothing but poverty but of course I showed her some cool pictures of some lovely places in my country.

Ghanaians are friendly people, we receive foreigners with open arms. Its a developing country so I can compare it to the USA but its a fun country. You should visit sometime, there is so much to see.

She seemed intrigued and urged me to tell her about the food. I am from the Ewe tribe in Ghana. My dad is from Keta which is a coastal town while my mom is from Angloga and we practice the Patrilineal system of inheritance so you can say that I hail from Keta. Even though I spent my life in the capital Accra. The food is really nice. I don want to bring Jollof before some Nigerians come and beat me… ,

She chuckled a bit before interjecting ,I have heard about the jollof wars between Ghana and Nigeria. In your opinion which is the best jollof?

I am Ghanaian, do you want me to stand with another?

We talked until we had consumed our delicacy. We went back to our hostel. Becky was on her phone while I sat on my bed just scrolling through social media. I could tell she was talking to her boyfriend because the kind of things I heard her really stripped me of my innocence.

The next day, I woke up really early to prepare for my first lectures. I brushed my teeth and then stepped into the kitchen which was not so big. I prepared my breakfast I brought with me can of Milo which I can make a chocolate beverage out of. I had no bread to eat with my drink so I had to pour it in my bottle to be drank later. I wore a red fitting skirt with a black round neck top with short sleeves. I had tied up my Rasta braids into a bun leaving two to hand at the front sides of my face. Personally I am not a fun of heavy makeup so just a layer of lipgloss on my pink lips is good enough for me.

When I walked into the lecture hall, I got chills as to how huge it was. The students where many. A big screen hanged on the wall and the chairs were arranged like a parliament. Since lectures hadn started some people were getting familiarized with one another. While others were either reading, sitting idle or looking at their phones.

I sat next to a dark skinned girl. She had her afro hair combed and tied a bandana around it. It looked so beautiful. Hi, I greeted her. She spread her pink lips into a smile. Hi, I am Amahle, she used a South African accent. You are from South Africa right?

Yeah and you must be either be Ghanaian or Nigerian.

I am Ghanaian but the Nigerian accent and Ghanaian accent have a huge difference.

Yeah but you guys have things in common, she responded.

Ghanaians say ”Pasta ” and Nigerians say ”Pastor ” and others but we do have similar foods and other things.

Wow, thats nice and you guys argue like husband and wife, she joked.

I laughed at her statement. Soon the lecturer entered the hall. Everyone stopped what they were doing and sat attentively.

He is a white man with blonde hair. He seems like he could be in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in a black suit and tie with a pair of black trousers.

Welcome to Harvard University. One of the best in the world and anybody would be honored and privileged to be here. I am going to be introducing you to News Reporting and Writing.

The lesson went on for two hours before it ended. I got some notes down to be studied later on.

Amahle and I went to the Randolph Courtyard. The place is very quiet and has a scenic getaway and besides, its not so far away from class. I laid on the hammock while she sat on the chair with a table in front of her which she placed her legs on. There is a swing canopied by wisteria.

Amahle happens to be a resident of Adams house so she recommended we sat there together and talk. People walked by while others were sitting down chatting or couples just enjoying the calmness of the Courtyard. As we were chatting, my eyes caught a pair to get a better view of the people.

It happened to be Becky and her boyfriend walking side-by-side. I stared at them for sometime before she realized that I was there. She smiled a bit before she gave me a light wave.

What are you looking at?, Amahle said after realizing that I was no longer paying attention. Its the two people walking over there, the lady is my roommate in Apley Court house and the guy is her boyfriend, I explained to her.

They are coming this way, she announced. I immediately plastered a big smile on my lips and rose to my feet. She wrapped her arms around me like we have known each other forever. Erm…Hi, I said after getting caught offguard by her hug.

How was lectures today? she asked.

Good… What are you doing here?

She looked at me with one eyebrow raised. Arent you going to introduce your friend.

This is Amahle, she is South African and Amahle this is Rebecca my roommate but she likes to be called Becky.

Do you know this boy? Amahle asked Becky. I saw confusion on Beckys face but I should say I was confused as well.

What do you mean? I tried to get her to explain why she would ask that.

Erm…he is my boyfriend why?

We have met each other on campus haven we? She turned her head to look at him. The look she gave him was not pretty one at all.

Really? Becky turned as well to look at him probably to get some clarification from him as well. Babe, where have you met her at?

We are just acquaintances. We are residence of the same house. No big deal, Amahles face furrowed together to show her displeasure with his explanation.

Well then since you two know each other. I don think I officially introduced him to you Seram, Becky responded.

Its Seyram but you can call me Gabriella to prevent any trouble. Anyway,we did meet one another in a very… awkward way, I started to feel a bit nervous.

I am Tristan but you can call me Tris far short and we might get along well, he offered his hand for me to shake.

You have already heard my name already so either Seyram or Gabriella, I returned the handshake. The couple bid their ”see you laters ” and went away.

What I noticed was Amahle looked at me with one eyebrow raised. What? I had to question the reason for her facial expression. Those people are no good, she simply said.

What? I don think we should judge people just like that. Rebecca has been friendly so far, I defended them.

Tristan is one notorious boy and I can begin to tell you the kind of mess of a human being he is.

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