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I'd always slept at the top of the iron cast bunk bed which wiggles with every turn I or my bunk mate makes. This bed is positioned close to a broken window where I watch a plam tree rock its leaves till the dark of the night fades my senses into sweet unconsciousness. "This I will miss" I said to myself. The directive for everyone to leave the school premises and return to their homes had just gotten to me and I became frightened. I have never traveled all by myself before - what's waiting for me? How do I get home by myself? Will I get home safely? I had multiple questions running through my mind that needed precision with processing. There was no one to talk to about my fears and the fact that I do not know the way home, yet I dared myself to embark on the journey because it was mandatory and the only way every student's survival from the drought that struck my school was guaranteed. I started the longest walk of my life at age 14, not knowing what road to take but with twice the amount of money to get me home. It's a 14 hour journey at a regular speed of 80km/h and I had to reach my destination before nightfall to be safe. What seemed scary at first started to become gradually exciting - firstly, because I'd never been outside the walls of my school. Secondly, because of the excitement to want to see my parents and thirdly, because reaching home would prove I'd become a grown man regardless of my age. I took the leap of faith while constantly assuring and reassuring myself of getting home come what may. I got on the first bus headed for Ore from Ibillo, at the cost of 200naira. The backward movement of the trees as the bus accelerated was as though I'd never seen anything like it, the thrills kept me awake throughout the rest of my journey. I had help from two elderly people at a time when I looked lost and they had to set me on the right path as I was way too young to travel to Lagos from Ibillo all by myself. There were plenty of memorable views - from the hanging dead antelopes displayed for sale by farmers, to the skinned and smoked grass cutters eagerly waiting to be bought by travelers at their savory sights. I saw the dam also for the first time, although I didn't know it's called a dam at the time. Finally, I arrived Lagos, the centre of excellence like its appellation. Fast moving vehicles everywhere constantly releasing carbon emissions into the environment. I became confused as the road networks seemed identical and the fact that it was my first journey alone. A beautiful lady in red, having her curled hair packed to create a pony tail waved at me, then walked up to me with the smile that would melt the heart of kings. She asked in a tiny pitch, "where are you headed?" I replied saying "my home" then she asked again, "where is home?" this time I brought out a piece of paper from the information my parent filled containing my house address. She took me by my right hand through the tired looking and fast moving crowd to the park I would get a bus to my destination. My parents heard a knock, saw me and were filled with shock and amazement.