The Cow Conundrum.

I was in class. I wasn’t in class. I was physically in class but my mind was far away from it. Or at least, far away from whatever it was that the lecturer was droning about. My mind was firmly fixed on the problem that I have been faced with since I sat down for the lecture. Nothing else was on my mind. I had to find a solution to this problem, and fast too or I would lose it. I was already losing it.
I never sat at this part of the class. I usually sat at the front but necessity saw me sitting somewhere close to the back, beside an open window. And it was here that my problem started.
I should have known there was something wrong with the seat since I came into the class. Everyone’s eyes were on me as I went to take the only available seat in the class. I put the stares down to that penchant students have for looking at latecomers, accusing eyes that make you look like you are the most unserious person in the world, and the school fees your parents were paying was a waste. But they were giggling as well. They don’t usually giggle when someone comes late, except the lecturer notices the person’s lateness and makes a case of it.
As I said, I never sit at this part of the class but I had to today. Mainly because I was late and I didn’t want the lecturer to notice my late entrance. Especially since I had made that entrance through an open window. Besides, this particular lecturer, on contract at the university and known for his volatile temper was one I didn’t joke with, and he certainly didn’t joke with us. He constantly spoke of his university days in California (like our parents were all broke ass people that couldn’t afford to send us to school abroad, which was kind of true but that’s beside the point!) and how we were like animals in a jungle in this school.
I was seated before the man could turn around and was pleased to note that he didn’t notice that a seat that was empty when he last looked was now filled. THAT was the end of THAT problem and the beginning of another. The problem that’s currently occupying my mind first started gently, wafting into my nostrils like a gentle breeze. I fanned the smell away with my hand, figuring that it was one of those nasty smells that was generated elsewhere in the room then thrown your way by an errant wind. The smell soon proved to me that it was no one off. Infact, as I fanned it away, the smell seemed to grow stronger and I wrinkled my nose. What was the source of this nasty smell?
“Mooooooo!!” came the reply from outside the open window, a black and white bovine face popping into view. Of course, the school cows, our ever present companions. Ever since I came to the University of Agriculture, Itthe, these large animals have been our companions and side-by-side neighbours. Infact, the first time I set foot in the school, I perceived an overpowering smell of cow but I felt it was just a one time thing. No way. Everywhere I go within the school premises, these horned neighbours of ours were there with horns wide open in welcome. The first time my boyfriend visited me in the school hostel, he asked if we had an abattoir closeby. I just laughed but I died a little inside. This school was falling my hands big time. Then the first time I went home on break, my mum broke away from her hug to ask why I smelt like a farmer. I ran off to take a bath.
We have the cows around us so much that wherever I go and smell cow, I’m 90% sure it’s a student from my school. And no matter how much Chanel No 5 you spray, the cow smell is stronger. I’m talking from experience.
I was nearly crazy now, because I had spent ten whole minutes with cow smell blasting into my face from the open window. What kind of problem was this? Was this what the Vice Chancellor meant by us growing closer to Mother Nature when he made such a statement during our induction into the school? Why couldn’t we grow closer to, maybe, a rose bush or even a mango tree? Why cows?
I was now beginning to think dark thoughts about these cows. How could the school let these nasty, smelly beasts lose upon the student community? Couldn’t we just band together, kill one and hold a suya night, teach the school a lesson that they needed to learn about leaving cows to roam among students. That was an idea, and I knew the guys would probably be only to happy to kill a school cow. Maybe I would suggest it at the next student council meeting. Yes. A dead cow would send the school a message. But killing a cow was no small feat. Maybe if we found some Fulani herdsmen…
“……..this young lady listening to what I’m saying?”
I broke out of my cow vengeance planning to notice that the entire class was staring at me. A ripple of giggles rose and died.
“What’s on your mind, young lady?”, the lecturer asked, looking pointedly at me.
“Sir?” I replied weakly.
“What have you been thinking of so intently since you came into this class?”
“Cow,” I answered without thinking. The whole class burst into uncontrolled laughter.
“What do cows have to do with anything?”, the lecturer asked, approaching me.”What do cows have to do with my…..” he broke off a step away from where I was seated and screwed his nose. “And What IS that smell?”
“Moooo,” the black and white neighbors replied.
“COW!!!!” the whole class yelled and burst into another round of mirth.
“My goodness,” the man gasped. “To think I came to a school that I thought had an iota of civilization. Back in cali….”
But the cow had had enough of his reminisce before it even started and chose this inopportune moment to sneeze, covering the man in cow saliva. By this time, some guys were practically rolling on the floor in laughter. The lecturer stood stock still in total shock. It took him nearly three minutes to regain his ability to speak.
By this time, we were subdued and quiet. So subdued we could hear the cow’s chewing.
“But sir,” the course rep began.
“DON”T SIR ME! JUST GET ME THE NAMES, AND MAKE SURE YOUR NAME IS THE FIRST! ANIMALS!!!!!” He yelled and stormed out of this class with as much dignity as he could muster which was none. The course rep glared at the lecturer’s retreating form and hissed.
“Cow,” she said.
The class burst into laughter again.
Outside, the cow chewed away happily, a session of causing students maximum discomfort having been successfully pulled off. I fled the class.

12 thoughts on “The Cow Conundrum.” by nnandez (@nnandez)

  1. Nice story…so funy,i laugh out my monotonous day!

    Thx 4 ur relief.

  2. Hehehe..My skul and your’s have those animals in common.
    Our chancellor is mighty proud of the fact that they come to church on sundays too!..hehehe.
    Every december there’s the suya night though..
    Well done.

  3. The beginning of the story felt a bit ‘dragged out’, but I found the encounter between the cow and the lecturer amusing,

    Well done, @nnandez.

  4. Thanks a mil for the comments. been a long time since i last seriously penned a story. Just decided to let the creative juices flow a bit after a long time being dammed up……

  5. He he he… Ogoski, I didn’t know u had such a fuckin great sense of humour. *winks* And ur work’s very well-written too. Wellest done bro

  6. Hehehehehe. Who’s the animal now Prof. California?

    Nice story. Well written

  7. Hilarious!you had some tense issues though.

  8. Its good to get some humour in here again.

  9. every story must have its ups and downs- well you have put it on NS already, but if its coming in book form am sure your editors will fine tune so don’t be disturbed about typo’s etc you will never see all of it somebody else will do that cheers

  10. a good comic story. well written too. well done.

Leave a Reply