{COMPLETED} "This is the sequel to The Wrong Crowd."
"I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine." - Emily Bronte.
Following the acceptance to Dami's proposal, Ore begins to slowly realize that not a...
Ore fumbled with her shoe strap as soon as she reached the big stadium that was being used for the matriculation ceremony. Everywhere was busy and concentrated with photographers who were struggling to take a shot of the matriculants as they walked with a few of their friends.
Some shrugged off the thought of taking pictures while others actually smiled and posed for the camera. Ore had encountered a photographer on the way who had almost harassed her because she wasn't interested in taking pictures. She had angrily talked off the young man with harsh words that made him freeze.
The auditorium was decorated with colorful balloons backstage and the podium was carpeted and beautifully adorned with sashes and rosy statues to award mark of honor to the freshers. Lecturers were already seated and waiting on the MC to finish up with the introductory speech so the national anthem would commence.
Ore darted in between crowded seat rows, muttering her apologies to a few students who her high heeled shoes stepped on or her floor length dress swished. She found an empty seat by the far end; close to the second entrance to the massive hall and sat glumly. She was sweating mildly from the sweltering rays of the sun and her make up was caking.
She fanned herself, gasping for air as the horde of matriculants rose for the opening prayer. Ore was surprised that the arena was jam packed with students who she hadn't seen in the months she had been attending classes. All faces were beaming with smiles and the excited chatter of students was at a height even while everyone's heads were bowed in prayer.
After the opening prayer, the national and school anthem followed and then came the opening speech given by the vice chancellor of the university. The man was short and bulky with a shiny forehead and a thin line of white beard running along the side of his jaw. He looked to be in his early fifties considering his aged face and slow speech.
The aura he emitted was one of affluence and wisdom from heading such a prestigious institution for quite a number of years. The man who had introduced himself as Prof Ndokwa Lale, the current VC was dressed in a convocation robe which was billowing about.
He tapped on the microphone and after a screeching sound, his deep voice flowed throughout the auditorium enhanced by the overhead speakers. Ore tried to concentrate on what the man was saying but her attention was caught by the flashing cameras and different dress styles.
"One, two, cheese." Ore posed in between Martha and a few of her course mates with a cheesy smile on her face before the camera clicked. The photographer assumed his upright position after taking the picture and a few of them clustered about him to check them out.
"I am so glad I got to matriculate," Martha squealed in her crazy jean and high heeled boot.
"Yeah, me too," Ore agreed lowly. She felt sad that her parents were not around to celebrate her big day with her and seeing other students with their families made her feel nostalgic.
