Dr. Jay
They called it an Introductory class and yet, I still couldn’t get a thing. When I walked into this class today, I was exhausted. It was my second week of school and I was still trying to get used to the thrills and disappointments that come with adjusting to a new school environment. Let me explain; before I gained admission into the higher institution, I had heard lots of stories from friends, family members, and even social media about what it was like to be an ‘undergraduate.’ They talked about the fancy parties, the new cool friends, the freedom, the stress of learning new things when all you want to do is sleep, living alone or in a crowded hostel, impressing lecturers, and whatnots. I feasted on those stories. I dreamt about them day and night and I wouldn’t be lying if I told you that those stories spurred me to put in my application to a university when my mother advised me to take some time off to learn a trade. I refused to listen and instead, insisted on going to school like my friends.
But nothing prepared me for the drab, unmotivating, and honestly stifling school environment. Or did I go to the wrong school? I had resumed way earlier than my mates and so, I had more than enough time to settle in and get acquainted with… campus life. But I still found myself confused and uninspired.
I’ve had two classes so far but I remain disappointed. I guess you could say that I am really hard to please. I’m sitting right now in my third class, waiting for the lecturer to come in. The lecturer had given the class representative a written copy of our proposed course outline for the semester and I was certain I was in the wrong class. There’s no way this is an introductory class.
‘Class.’ I heard a husky voice reverberate around the cramped hall. ‘Good afternoon.’
The whole class shifted their attention from the class representative who was honestly becoming unnecessarily sweaty to the new human who just interrupted the ‘class.’ I don’t think any of us was expecting what we saw because it took a long while before anybody was able to return his greeting. Nobody did actually. We just kept staring at him while he walked from the entrance of the auditorium to the podium. He took his time to take center stage and when he finally did, he looked around the class of roughly 200 green-eyed students and he smiled. A very satisfying smile, if you ask me. I’ve never been good at descriptions, but he looked…scrumptious. Dark and beautiful. With a perfectly trimmed beard and the gait of a self-assured man. I believe he was aware of the effect he had on the class because he gave us enough time to drink him in before he cleared his throat and spoke.
‘Thank you very much, Micheal. I’ll take it from here.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Micheal (I guess that’s our class representative’s name) responded and went back to his seat.
‘Once again, good afternoon class.’
‘Good afternoon, sir.’ We all chorused a little too loudly. The guys were already sizing him up while the girls (well, the ones that had made friends already) were whispering and giggling in a very obnoxious manner.
He turned his back to the class, to write his name on the board and I couldn’t stop staring. I mean, how can one man be so…beautifully carved? He wrote his name in bold letters on the board…Dr. Ajayi Carter. Now, that’s a beautiful name.
‘I am Dr. Ajayi Carter and I will be your guide through this course. While this class lasts, you can call me Dr. Jay. It’s what my friends call me and I hope we can all become good friends.’
Now, university might not be that bad.
***
Well, it got worse. At least, not when I was in Dr. Jay’s class. No, those 45 minutes were my little moments of peace. It wasn’t just that Dr. Jay was a walking African deity, it was how smart he was. I always heard stories about how uninterested and disconnected most lecturers were when they taught their classes. Unfortunately, I had even met some. But not Dr. Jay. For him, his work was his life. He poured every iota of his strength, sweat, and time into ensuring we understood every sentence that came out of this mouth. Sometimes, it was incredibly difficult to focus on any single thing he said because I couldn’t just get over how…perfect he was.
But my moments of peace became short-lived when I fell ill. Having to adjust to a new environment and new eating habits and even drinking water did unusual things to my system. I thought it was just going to be a brief illness but it got worse when the doctor suggested I stayed in the hospital for a while so they could monitor my body’s responses to treatment. Unfortunately for me, it was test week. I had to write letters addressed to every lecturer in my class, asking to be excused from the tests. Micheal offered to go with me to their offices to make the process…easy but I think he made it worse. I later discovered that these lecturers, the majority of whom were male, responded better to female students than their male counterparts. They smiled a little too widely when I talked about needing to be excused for the test week and they frowned a bit too harshly when Micheal tried to say something in my defense. At one point, I had to pinch him to get him to stop talking.
I offered to go to Dr. Jay alone because he seemed like the kind of person to instantly understand. And he did. He was a bit too understanding if anything. He asked all the right questions and listened attentively to my responses. He ended the conversation by asking for my phone number. He said he wanted to check in personally every single day I was at the hospital. I was awed and honestly flattered that he would even consider that. Honestly, I was a bit too eager to give it to him and I smiled a bit too wide when he called me pretty.
I stayed in the hospital for three days but I couldn’t go back to school until I was fully recovered. By the time I returned, I had a backlog of tests and assignments to attend to. All I wanted to do at that point was to return to the hospital and possibly defer my admission.
‘Hello. Good evening, sir.’ It was Dr. Jay calling for one of his routine check-ups, weeks after I returned from the hospital. According to him, he had gotten used to talking to me every day and it had become an integral part of his day. And he was a task-ticker; he couldn’t do without ticking it off on his list.
My school girl crush blinded me to all the signs that maybe our relationship was beginning to feel like more than it should. He had started noticing me in class and giving me special attention. He would fish me out in a class of over 200 students and ask me how my day went. It was a routine way of him helping us relax in class – asking random questions you wouldn’t find regular lecturers asking, like how our days went, what we ate the day before or the morning before the class if we heard about the album that was just released and small things like that. Somehow, he had never noticed me in class but since my sickness, a class didn’t go by without him asking me one question or the other, or using my name as an example in whatever he was explaining.
I was flattered at the beginning, but it got to a stage when it became unnerving. Girls started looking at me differently and paying me unnecessary attention. Not the good kind of attention. When he would ask me to wait to see him after class, the entire class would ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ in mockery. Later on, I heard rumors of me having a relationship with Dr. Jay. The rumors were so vicious that even other lecturers started mentioning it in their classes. I didn’t know how to react or respond to it. I was just a first-year student trying to get through her first semester. Being involved with a lecturer was the last thing I would even consider, but somehow, I became caught up in the web. Dr. Jay on the other hand did nothing to help matters. I was even convinced he was enjoying the attention we were getting. He did nothing to discourage the rumors, instead, he fueled it with more public displays…of preference.
‘Sir, can I speak to you?’
I had summoned the courage that evening to go to his office and have the talk with him. If he was going to ignore it, I wasn’t. At least, it didn’t seem like he had a lot on the line. I had everything on the line – my reputation, my academics, and even my love life. Boys didn’t want to even speak to me!
‘Ada. Darling, how are you?’
‘With all due respect, sir, can you stop using those terms of endearments on me? It is misleading.’
‘You have a problem with it?’
‘I actually do, sir.’
Weeks and weeks of talking about anything and everything with him had made me bolder and more expressive. I wasn’t going to back down.
‘I’ll stop then. I’m sorry it makes you uncomfortable.’
I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you so much for your understanding, sir.’
When I didn’t leave immediately, he looked up from his laptop and asked, ‘Ada, is there anything else?’
‘Uhh…somehow, sir.’
‘I’m listening.’
There was no better way to phrase this and I didn’t feel like sugar coating anything anymore. ‘Sir, people think we are in a relationship.’
‘People think we are in a relationship? What sort of relationship?’
‘Sir…like, they think we are dating.’
There was a brief pause.
‘Well, are we?’
‘No, sir.’
‘So why does it bother you?’
‘Because it’s ruining my reputation.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m ruining your reputation?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I didn’t think it bothered you that much. Do you want me to stop?’
‘Yes, I do, sir.’
He paused for a moment, closed his laptop, and looked back up at me. ‘Even if I like you and want us to be in a relationship?’
‘Sir?’ I was shocked. Is this really happening?
‘Ada, it’s fine. I’ve heard everything you have to say. You can leave my office now.’
Was that a hint of anger I heard in his voice?
‘But sir…’
‘I’m not going to be one of those lecturers who will let your grades suffer because you rejected my advances. So, don’t worry.’
‘Sir…’
‘You can leave my office now. Please, lock the door on your way out.’ And just like that, he opened his laptop and went back to work.
I turned and started moving towards his door. How do I tell him that I actually wanted a relationship with him and had only wanted him to ask the proper way?
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