It’s back to school once again folks

I HAVE always had my reservations about going to school at a late age.
I know, we say in Sesotho, thuto ha e tsofalloe, meaning one is never too old to learn.
One can come up with other sayings to make it sound better.
My hesitation was not borne by the fact that I think with age I have grown a little dumber.
You see, my vision of me back in school was of me sitting trying to listen to the lecturer; teeny-boppers milling around me, in little outfits, chewing gum, and just being plain pains.
I stopped having those when I realised that most of the visions were actually flashbacks from my ‘varsity days, the teeny-boppers in little outfits were my friends (I couldn’t fit in a little outfit) and the noise was from us, eish.
Anyway, I was somewhat inspired by a story that featured a while ago about a man of eighty odd years who went and started school, to learn to read and write — and he went back to primary school, why was I fronting about going to university bathong?
Another scary thing about the whole ‘back to school’ scenario is because I did not want to experience that intimidating feeling of being the ‘new kid’ — ahhh that is very scary!
Now in a foreign country it is worse!
Remember your first day at school? That feeling of being absolutely lost!
New faces were everywhere all chattering amongst themselves, everyone paired up — except you.
And maybe that other weird kid (if it wasn’t just you)!
Being new in a place is overwhelming. A million questions go through your head.
You wonder if you will fit in, you wonder if you will end up having friends.
You ask yourself if you will get to know the place enough to be confident enough to go from one part to another without asking for directions.
These and many more went through my head even before I stepped onto the campus, but the major one was and still is: am I going to pass?
Do not laugh. If you have been out of the book race for long you wonder if you still know how to study.
But I should really stop complaining now and count my blessings — which thing I do almost every day.
Every waking day answers a part of your question there and there, and you slowly get accustomed to your new environment.
 But still, things are still hazy. It is early days though.
Well, the fright aside, there is the bubbling excitement of the adventure ahead.
First and foremost, a foreign country — what is new?
What is just like home? Is it true all those things we see on TV?
Or am I going t realise the media just lies to the world about this place as they lie about Africa to other worlds? 
Exploration begins, unless you are timid and shy like me.
I see you shaking your head — I am shy! True!
First day in the classroom and you realise the lecturer is the guy you just said hi to.
He is unlike your typical ‘sir’ who is going to stand in front of the class, fill your head with paragraph after paragraph of stuff he read from a textbook and leave you more confused than when you first walked in through the door.
But it is strange hey.
So laid back you really kinda forget you are in class, though you are reminded hour after hour because your timetable seems to stretch longer than any other — 9am to 6pm!
You look around, trying to get a feel of your classmates, there are some faces more frightened than your own, but the highlight of your day is when you spy a wizened face at the back.
It finally dawns that your fears of being the only older person in class were baseless!
But why do I still have trouble fitting in?
Someone said to me I feel out of place because I am not the ‘popular girl’ anymore! Hahaha!
It is not entirely untrue, but the truth is I find it hard to fit in because there are just so few darkies here.
It is just so strange!