I'm currently sat at my table in my studio in Student Castle, the building I live in.

It is a rather nice building. I dare say that it is the best I have lived in since I moved to Manchester four years ago.

The view's awesome if nothing else. The building still has the rather awful habit of turning off the boiler without telling anyone.

After typing that it suddenly dawned on me that four years is a rather long period of time to endure the truly ghastly weather conditions that Manchester has to offer. It is always raining and this in itself isn't a problem because I, afam love the rain. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about it that agrees with my muchness. But the rain in Manchester is hardly ever heavy enough for it to be enjoyable. I want to be beaten senseless by it not tapped lightly on the shoulder. I want to hear the rain pound against the aluminum roofing sheets. I want to be lulled to sleep by the consistency of the thunderous noise. I want it to pour for two hours and then I want the weather to change because a day of rain is too boring to be encouraged by words. Ah! I see. I'm homesick. The band, Toto knew what they were talking about when they sang,

What can I say? Mama Afam always comes through with that emergency jollof rice. She is superior.

I must apologise for the lack of decent content on the good old blog but you must understand that being a student pays better than being a blogger. If I were to blog full time my earnings would be lower than a dollar a day. Yes my friends, and foes, I would be living below the poverty line and I would be unable to afford my studio in the broken castle I currently inhabit...

Student Castle in all its splendour.

Life in the student castle has improved somewhat. I haven't had to wait 10 minutes for the elevator in forever and my shower has stopped trying to murder me. All would be perfect if my neighbours were not devils. Actually there is probably only one devil but I use the plural form of the word for effect. Yes, the Alarmist effect. On Sunday morning I was having the best dream. It was quite the epic. Lord Christian Grey (this is a real person, who is actually a Lord. After hearing about the success of one Christian Grey from the 50 shades of Gray, my friend Howard Grey legally changed his name to Christian Grey. He purchased his Lordship soon after.), Montesquieu (This is quite the mouthful so we all call him Monty) and I (Afam) transformed to form Optimum Pillock. We patrolled the hallways of Student Castle arresting evil doers and protecting the peace.

Optimum Pillock

Maybe it wasn't a dream after all. I still like to think of it as one, for the above picture is very sad indeed. I cannot and will not explain what was going on there. Truth be told, I can't remember.

Anyway, where was I? I was dreaming about the adventures of Optimum Pillock when a truly evil noise reached me (This was fairly remarkable as I was quite deep in Dream Land. I was so deep that I believed that it would take me at least another 4 hours to navigate my way to reality).

I fought hard against the beast but my efforts were in vain. I opened my eyes only to be assaulted by a truly other worldly sound system. It lambasted its way through the walls like they were made of paper. I looked at my sleeping partner (curb your enthusiasm, it's only my laptop) and saw that it was 7am on a Sunday morning. Is this not evil? Are they not wicked? What student in their right mind willingly forgoes his/her Sunday lie in to punish one Afam. This is tantamount to a declaration of war. Unknown cretin, I will find you... Your punishment will be equivalent to your crime.

In other news my building, Student Castle seems to have relapsed. After a very intense squash session with the lads and lasses from the University of Manchester Squash society, I wanted nothing more than to collapse on my bed and rest my tired muscles (my buttocks were particularly sore for one must perform an inhumane number of squats and lunges when playing a decent game of squash) but this was not to be. When I tried to get a lift up to the 21st floor the lift system informed me that the lifts were busy. I was a little puzzled for I had never seen that message before. I went to investigate. It so happened that only one lift was working. After about 7 minutes, one other lift returned to active duty. Once in the lift I was greeted by the following scene...


That is the cctv camera dangling like an aerial contortionist. No, there was no technician in the lift at the time so I can't tell you if maintenance work was being done or not. I would say more but pictures really are worth thousands of words.

Happy Days,
Afam

Student Castle in all it's glory. Is it not tall and modern looking? Is it not aptly named? It is definitely the modern day interpretation of a castle... from the outside at least. Image was taken from Ghostly Tom's Travel blog found at toms-travels.net

My blood was boiling, my bones were on fire. Excitement permeated my entire being. I was electrified. If you were to observe me at that time I assure you that you would not have been able to see me very clearly at all. I was vibrating very hard indeed. This is how I get when I am excited. You're probably wondering about the cause of all this strange activity. It was the day I was to move into my studio in Student Castle Manchester.

The building is a wondrous thing to behold. I'm fairly sure that it is one of the 10 tallest buildings in Manchester. As you can imagine the view from my Studio on the 21st floor is magnificent. I can see the Manchester moors from my bed. The only annoyance I have regarding my view is that I can see Old Trafford from my bed too. For me this is like a fly in the corner of my eye. No matter how much I try to ignore the fact that Old Trafford lies infront of me I can't. I find my eyes drawn to the stadium nine times out of ten. I wonder if Van Persie can feel the daggers I'm staring his way? (Probably not... *traitor* *cough*).

My room itself is quite small, but it is also just big enough. Yes, big enough to host about 3 squatters. I'm sure that it shall do this at some point or the other through out the duration of my stay. I know I seem positively taken with my room but this was not always the case. Before I moved in I thought that I would be free from the interference of the Universe in my humble abode. I thought that I was owed this common courtesy but this was not the case. The universe reminded me of this on the night I moved in.

I was very grimy, and filthy when I rocked up to manchester at 10pm or so. You see 24 hours before I had been at Aburo's 21st chugging mojitos by the bucketload and being strangled by one very drunk Odz (no, his name isn't actually Odz. Odz is a character from the exceedingly popular manga and anime series One Piece). I had also passed the night in the stables. I would have showered the next day but I had to make a speedy departure from Cirencester to London, and once in London I would have to attend Starmix's 21st. There was scarcely any time to brush my teeth talk less of having a shower. A little perfume and deodorant would do the trick, and I expected every one to ignore the fact that I still had strands of hay in my hair.

After that event I barely had enough time to bid Asquith a hasty goodbye and thank him for his hospitality before I was due back in Manchester.It is not surprising that the first thing I sought to do upon moving in was have a shower. I did not expect my shower to attempt to kill me. I stepped in the shower expecting to be washed by deliciously hot water. At first the water was icy. As I Afam am both a legend and a trooper I endured the cold in preparation for the warm goodness that was sure to follow. The temperature increased gradually until it was just right. I was about to begin my littany of shower hits when I realized that the water was no longer tolerable. I was being boiled alive.I went to bed very sad indeed. I need my daily shower to feel like a human being. I reported the problem hoping that it would be fixed before I had to leave for the freshers week fair the following morning. It wasn't, just like that I had gone three days without having a decent shower. I should have known then that my first few weeks at Student Castle would be peppered by numerous maintenance issues.

Because they are so many I find that I cannot go into detail about all of them. They are listed as follows...
Internet issues, impromptu restarting of the boiler, frozen by shower, retarded elevators (Do you know that I once had to climb down 21 flights of stairs after waiting 15 minutes for the elevator? Ridiculous!!!), leaking pipes, no water, an extreme lack of communication (I'm well aware that work needs to be done in any apartment building, but I do not think it appropriate that men appear at my doorstep to fix my air conditioning without me having any prior knowledge of it), power cut, dodgy policies (Why should I have to pay £5 to be let back into MY studio in the event that I forget my room key inside my room after paying a SMALL FORTUNE in rent?), and despotic policies (I know that there's CCTV for my own safety but please try not to threaten me with it. I am a MODEL tenant).

You might think that I hate the building but the truth is that I don't. You see as a Nigerian - especially one who just spent an entire summer in Nigeria I am familiar with all these issues. In fact, I dare say I'm terribly well equipped to exist with them indefinitely. In the mean time I'll do the Nigerian thing and put the state of the building in my prayers. Yes, right after I thank God for myself and my family and just before I pray about Global Warming.

 Happy Days,
Afam