The bus rattled over a pothole, jerking Akutu forward as she clutched the straps of her backpack. She exhaled softly, eyes fixed on the window, where the dusty road gave way to the neatly paved entrance of the university. It was massive—larger than she had imagined. The towering gates, adorned with the school's emblem, loomed before her like the threshold of a new life.
She stepped off the bus, pulling her suitcase behind her, feeling the weight of more than just her belongings. This was it. Four years in a place where every choice could either propel her forward or hold her back. She had dreamed of this moment—leaving her small town, stepping into a world of independence, endless possibilities, and unknown challenges. Yet, now that she was here, uncertainty wrapped itself around her like a tight coil.
The air smelled of fresh-cut grass and old books—scents she would soon grow familiar with. Students strolled past her, some laughing, others hurrying along as if they already had their lives figured out. Akutu glanced down at the acceptance letter in her hand, its edges slightly crumpled from her anxious grip. It felt unreal, as if she had only borrowed this moment, and at any time, someone would tap her shoulder and tell her it was a mistake.
A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. "You new here?"
She turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man adjusting his backpack. His uniformed T-shirt suggested he was one of the student volunteers helping freshers settle in. Akutu nodded, forcing a small smile.
"Yeah, first year," she said.
"Welcome," he said, stretching out a hand. "I'm Kweku. Need help finding your hostel?"
Akutu hesitated for a second before shaking his hand. This was the first of many introductions, the first of many moments that would shape her time here. "Thanks. I think I can manage."
Kweku chuckled. "Everyone says that. Trust me, you'll need help."
She smiled properly this time. Maybe she did need help, but wasn't that part of the journey? To learn, to grow, to pull herself up when she felt the weight of the unknown pressing down?
As she dragged her suitcase toward the hostel, she felt something shift within her. The pulleys of life had begun turning, setting her on a path she could neither predict nor fully control. But she was here. And that was a start.