Prof. as he’s fondly called was a brainy student who was full of life with the sparkling of youthful agility. He swam across the boisterous and tempestuous Oron River without the fear of its deluge to acquire higher education in the famous University of Calabar— all in the quest of becoming an illustrious son of his family and the immediate society. Sadly, his dreams and the expectations of his people now wallows in the miry clay of psychosomatic oddness. Prof. and most of us were in Unical. We were residents of Malabo Republik (c). I was staying in room 201 in Hall5 that equally housed him. He was in the stock of the core Malabo boys whose aksions (actions) weren’t overlooked though not always reasonable as the slogan were and is, as it stance. ‘Real Malabites and Malabresses (those living in Malabo and female hostels) knew him. His adopted name, Prof. rang like church-bell. In the domain of campus entertainment, he was there to rap like Tupac. When the likes...