Hostel Tales: My Roommates, The Devil

The problem first started with a girl called Nne. Nne was one of the many roommates I was forced to spend the entirety of my penultimate days within the room. Her bed was placed strategically opposite mine, she had wide gap teeth, and somehow reminded me of the villain in the red-haired Disney princess story.

I did not hate her. I did not like her either. I just remained indifferent and passive to her very existence.

The small-sized room that was supposed to serve as a makeshift hostel apartment for college students reminded me of a cramped jar of sardines fish. The room had four bunk beds, separated by a tiny space that could barely host a full-grown adult. This could contain only four students, and each of us was supposed to make it work regardless, Despite the challenge it would pose to us.

The other girls, Jamie and Micah, had their beds facing, and always acted like they were best of friends even though they had only just met in school. I did not have a problem with their relationship. I was majorly concerned about the problems their relationship might create for the other occupants in the room.

I will tell you about them later, but first, let’s talk about Nne.

Nne was a loud person, and oftentimes, too loud for my liking and peace of mind. She’d begin the morning with loud songs of worship, and deflect afterward into heavy incoherent whinings of tongues, preceded by mutterings and loud hypocritical declarations, negligent of the fact that she lived with other people in the same space. That too, individuals who may not be enthusiastic about early morning wailing of incoherent hypocritical prayers.

With time, I began to hate her and most importantly her early morning blabbering of ‘laba-dosh-dosh’ shenanigans.

She was a staunch devotee to her worship, an unrepentant morning prayer warrior, and a fierce woman in battle who appeared to take her worship seriously, or at least, that’s what she wanted us to believe all the time.

The first day I walked into the room, she was the first amongst all the others to welcome me.

“Haaa you’re our new roommate?” She pronounced “r” in a funny manner like her front teeth would fall off completely if she applied too much effort.

“You’re so beautiful.” she continued. “Finally we come get oyibo in this room. Fine oyibo potato.” She laughed out loud like she could not wrap her mind around the ingenuity of her joke.

I noticed that the term “Oyibo” as employed by her was used to connote a light-skinned person. She meant that I looked lighter and hence more beautiful than the other dark-skinned girls.

A thought that was not even logical to begin with.

I nodded my head at her and then in the direction of the other girls that were present in acknowledgment.

They all sat and watched me like I was the newest piece of attention that caught their fancy. A new excitement that they could not help but study.

I hated the attention Nne appeared to be innocently projecting on me and tried to avoid it as much as possible.

Before long, Nne, who was the wannabe mother of the room, took it upon herself to explain the existing ground rules that the other girls had set before I arrived.

“We do not allow boys to visit us in this room. All of your male visitors must remain outside. Do you understand?” She asked, flexing her muscles and laughing simultaneously like her speech was too smart for her minuscule mind to comprehend.

I moved my bag and straightened it to lean against the wardrobe further as I nodded in fabrication, spurring her to get to the point already.

“Visiting hours end by 6. Anything beyond that is unacceptable.” She continued. “And we always take turns in washing and sweeping the room and bathroom every weekday and weekend. Do you understand me?”

I looked at her, and twisted my lips, begging it to remain silent. How else could I explain this madness? Why was a fellow occupant trying to Mummy me around like she owned the place? The last time I checked, we all paid equal amounts for the room and space. We were all entitled to our space and activities in the room without interference from the others. So what was the entire drama all about?

“Hmmm” I cleared my throat in anticipation, ready to give this new occupant who wanted to act like my mother a piece of my mind. “I think you don’t know what..”

I felt a sharp pinch on the side of my left hip. “Ouch!” I cried aloud in mock derision. I noticed Bola, my best friend, who was helping me move in, gave me a stink eye, to keep my mouth sealed.

By God, it was tempting to give Nne a word or two. But weighing the options, not acting bitchy by giving her a piece of my mind seemed to work better for me.

First, I was only a few hours fresh in the room. I was concerned about leaving a great first impression, so I swallowed and shook my head affirmatively.

There was no need to retort. Each of the other rules seemed to work well for me. Even though I was not particularly intrigued by the way she had chosen to pass across the message.

I did not have any male friends, so I was certain there would be no reason to ask them to stay away. I had only a few friends, and none of them would consider coming over for a visit in this hideous hideout anyway, so I was secure in that. Bola was the only friend who might come around more often, and thankfully she had heard the rules herself.

I loved to keep my space spick and span. Cleanliness was my forte attribute, and so I did not think I would have a problem keeping my environment clean. If it would be rational and fair for everyone, why not?

It all seemed good and fair enough. If this was the price I had to pay to inculcate peace and be in good camaraderie with my roommate, then I would have no problem.

I explained this to all of them in the calmest voice possible and waited for them to ask about my rules.

But there was no indication of interest from their end. As long as they were concerned, their rules should be good enough to suffice for everyone. I continued to live with Nne and the other girls who were excessively loud for a while in peace until one fateful day.

One morning Nne finished her morning show off. I like to call it a flaunt of spiritual tongues, fervor, and eloquence and started to blast an African pop song with a crazy afrobeat.

The problem was not with the song, the problem was with the timing.

It was about 5’am in the morning and it didn’t feel right to wake up to a loud bang like we had just been transported by a time machine into a club party from the 80s. I needed my baby beauty to sleep, and I was going to have it. Whether Nne or the other roommates liked it or not.

That very minute without giving a bit of warning, I took the most drastic step. I was fed up with her untiring early morning ‘Labadosh Shenanigans’. It was about time I sent out a warning to Nne and the other roommates. Or so I thought until everything changed for the worse.

I reached across my bed and picked up my phone to dial security.

The message was simple.

‘Help, I live in room 204. and there’s a girl who wants to sabotage my life with loud sounds.’

It was funny, and I didn’t think these guys would take me seriously. But they did, for a country that does not uphold the practice of efficiency. I was shocked to find that two minutes later, the school security had located my room and was banging loudly on the door.

Nne, Jamie, and Micah stood up in shock and stared around panicking like headless chickens, trying to cover up their tracks.

“Open up, it’s security!” A loud voice commanded over the loud bustle from the other end of the door.

All of their illegal and contraband items were littered everywhere, and I sat with a smirk as I watched them scurry in a litany of chaos.

I stood up and walked gallantly to the door. As they paused mid-air and watched me do the very thing they were running off from. At that moment, they soon realized that I had reported them to the school’s security.

And that was when it all started.

A few days after that event, Nne and the other girls turned against me completely.

It was like I was thrown into a new kind of hell.

My room became an unbearable place to live in.

First, it was the strange noises that started at night. Every night, after the lights had gone off, and the large clock had reached 12, the strangest thing would begin to happen.

The noise was the weirdest thing I have ever had the vile privilege of experiencing in my life.

First, the noises would come like soft tiny incoherent sounds of whispering people, with time, it’d become so insistent that I would start to shake from fear.

The first night, it was so subtle, I paid little attention to it, and assumed it was one of my roomies playing a trick on me.

The second night, the loud sounds started off and soon began to grow more insistent like I had strange visitors in my bed doing a hush-hush meeting.

It continued for a week or more, and then stopped after I started to sleep with my Bible clutched close to my chest. With every metering of prayer, the attacks seemed to stay far away from me…

The following day I would ask Nne if she had heard anything that sounded strange at night, and she would scoff and walk past me like I was delusional.

The next night, after the inquiry, the attacks doubled. And this time, a thousand hail Marys and loud desperate declarations from the Bible did nothing to abate these demonic attacks that were hell-bent on ruining me completely.

Before long, it intensified into the worst experience ever. I began to feel cold hands touch my legs as the sounds played out in my head. It felt so real, I could feel my skin cringe in fear and the bumps spread all over my body. The problem with this was that during any of these attacks, I would suddenly lose the ability to scream or shout or yell for help.

My voice was stuck in the roof of my mouth, and my screams came out as soft sighs that did little or no justice at all to express the terror I was experiencing.

The next day, I woke up with deep bruises laced all over my body like I had been flogged with a long whip. Long fingers and deep cuts marred my face and I could not explain what had happened to me save for the strange sounds, and cold hands I felt going around my body, tormenting me during the night.

I had heard of such strange occurrences before now, but I had never taken any of those tales seriously, rebuffing popular madam ‘koi koi’ stories as folktales and wife tales from uneducated people.

Now these tales, the ones I had never paid any attention to, were happening to me.

Strange spirits and evil forces were attacking me.

The next day, I woke up and saw my roommates talking strangely and whispering like they were having the time of their lives.

Micah looked strangely at me but did not mention the scars on my face.

Nne called out to one of her friends and said that she thought I was possessed and enjoyed inflicting pains on myself in the deep of the night.

Upon hearing this, I quickly hurried over to Bola’s apartment, In a bid to find help.

“Your roommates are Ogbanje people. You better go to see a spiritualist save you or beg them to set you free from their spell.”

The idea of begging Nne or any of the other girls was something I could not begin to fathom in my mind.

Why would I have to apologize to them anyway? I was only exercising my rights in the room, I did not feel a little bit of remorse if their ego got in the way.

The next night I stumbled upon a deeper encounter with these spirits and I saw blood. They made me beg for my life.

Till now, here I am, trying to find a cure to my plight. I moved out following Bola’s advice but despite all these, the effort has remained futile. My life has become filled with torments, and I have no peace.

I plan to end it tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I would visit a spiritualist to set me free. The price to be paid might be dangerous, but I would go and find out what the spirit has to say.

Then, I would come back with Vengeance to make Nne pay!

All images are sourced at unsplash.com