In Ghana, gaining admission into a university is a proud and unforgettable experience.
It is often celebrated with excitement, prayers, and endless congratulatory messages from family, friends, and even neighbours.
For many young people, entering the university marks the beginning of independence, responsibility, and hope for a better future.
Indeed, university education lays a strong foundation for personal growth, career development, and lifelong learning.
Although it has been over a decade since I completed tertiary education, memories of my first year in varsity remain vivid. Anytime I drive past the campus, moments both sweet and stressful come rushing back into my mind.
I still remember the names of several lecturers clearly. Thinking about their teaching styles makes me smile. Some lecturers were friendly and full of humour.
Their lectures were lively, and we never wanted to miss their classes.
Others were calm, serious, and encouraging, always reminding us that success was possible if we stayed focused and worked hard.
However, there were also lecturers whose stern looks alone made students nervous before even stepping into the lecture hall.
One lecturer in particular always appeared very strict. His face rarely showed emotion.
One day, while answering a question, a colleague added a small joke. To our surprise, the lecturer smiled.
Ei! Come and see excitement.
The entire lecture hall erupted into laughter and applause.
“Ei! The man has smiled!” students shouted happily.
That simple moment became unforgettable.
Campus Life
My first day on campus was filled with confusion, excitement, and curiosity. I walked around asking people to direct me to my department.
Thankfully, I met a kind young man who patiently helped me.
I completed my course registration and moved from one office to another to fulfil all the required processes. Surprisingly, everything went smoothly.
After that, I sighed with relief and asked myself, What next?
I checked the notice board, hoping to find useful information, but there was nothing helpful. Fortunately, I met an old friend.
“Charley! Ohhh man… long time!” we shouted excitedly as we hugged each other.
He assisted me with hall registration, but unfortunately, I did not get a room. I had to perch.
Perching was a common word on campus. It meant staying in a friend’s room because you had no official accommodation. Eventually, someone agreed to host me, although he was clearly not happy about it.
A room meant for four students could sometimes have as many as ten occupants because of perchers. The congestion led to discomfort.
As a percher, you had no voice. Complaining too much meant packing your bag and leaving or keeping quiet and enduring the situation.
The discomfort forced many perchers to sleep at night in an open space within the hall of residence nicknamed “Em Plaza.” Mattresses were spread on the floor, and sleep came with mosquito bites and noise.
As night fell on my first day, hunger struck hard. I was directed to a popular food joint on campus and chose my favourite: gob3—beans with fried plantain. It tasted delicious and brought some comfort after a long day.
Later that night, loud noises filled the compound.
I was told that first-year students were being welcomed through a practice called ponding. Fear gripped me when I heard what it involved.
Some students were made to kneel in their underwear while buckets of water were poured on them late at night. It was frightening and humiliating.
Not long after, another group of students began loud singing and chanting known as jama. Sleep was almost impossible that night.
Learning Beyond “Chew and Pour”
One of the most important lessons I learned in my first year was this: understand concepts; do not only memorize.
Some students relied heavily on rote learning, popularly known as “chew and pour.” A Philosophy lecturer strongly challenged that mindset. He explained that courses like Logic and Critical Thinking required deep understanding.
He said jokingly,
“As for this course, be ready to fail if you want to chew and pour. You can’t even chew, let alone pour.”
The lecture hall burst into laughter.
Later, I overheard a colleague talking about past questions. Ei! Past questions in varsity?
Curious, I joined him to the Balme Library. That young man later became a close friend.
Interestingly, one lecturer preferred “chew and pour.”
He sold us his book and warned that failure to reproduce it would cost marks. I followed his advice and scored an “A”.
However, the Philosophy course required analysis and reasoning. I earned a B+, and I was proud because I truly understood the course.
Life Lessons
Despite the fear and confusion, my first year in varsity remains a source of pride.
I learned that success is not only about grades but about resilience, discipline, friendships, and growth.
My first year taught me how to survive, adapt, and grow.
As for the remaining years in varsity… your guess may be as good as mine!
The writer Henry Atta Nyame is an Institutional Assessment Practitioner
