From Level 100 to 400: The Real University Journey

They say university life is the best time of your life. And maybe it is—for people who don’t have to wake up at 4:30 a.m. just to fight for a spot on a bus from Legon to Korle Bu.

My mornings often start with a jolt—not from an alarm, but from the fear of missing the only bus that’ll get me to class remotely on time. I’ve mastered the art of getting ready in under 10 minutes and sprinting like I’m in the Olympic finals. Sometimes I make it. Other times, I arrive just in time to see the bus pulling away—its taillights flickering like a sarcastic “better luck next time,” while I stand there breathless, bag flapping, questioning every decision that led me to this moment.

If I’m lucky enough to catch the next bus, I usually get to stand the whole ride, rocking back and forth like I’m on a surfboard made of sweaty backpacks and lost dreams. Personal space? A myth. And just when I think I’ve survived the worst, I arrive at Korle Bu, slightly traumatized—only to hear those occasionally soul-snatching words:

“Class has been moved online today.”

Or worse—“Class has been cancelled.”

 

Sometimes. Not always. We had plenty of classes, trust me. But it’s the sometimes that sting the most.

And that’s just the commute.

From Level 100 to 400, one thing remained constant—IAs. They popped up like unwanted ads, every semester, without fail. You could be mid-semester, thinking you’re coasting, and boom: “Submit by midnight.” Combine that with assignments, surprise quizzes, and “just a quick presentation next week”—and suddenly you’re running on vibes, caffeine, and hope.

Presentations? A saga of their own. Group work often turned into solo missions. “Let’s meet to prepare” quickly became “Let’s wing it and pray for grace.” We’ve all stood in front of the class, voice trembling, slide notes in shambles, pretending we weren’t having a minor breakdown inside.

By Level 300, we were knee-deep in stress and neck-deep in deadlines. Yet somehow, we adapted. We stopped flinching at all-nighters. We built resilience one poorly timed group chat at a time. And then, Level 400 rolled in like a final boss fight—project work. Suddenly everything was about proposals, supervisors, data collection, revisions, and fighting for departmental signatures like your life depended on it.

But here’s the thing: through all the bus chases, sleepless nights, group efforts, and near mental breakdowns, we kept going. We laughed. We cried (internally). We grew.

So, here’s to the journey—messy, maddening, and unforgettable. Not the glossy brochure version, but the real one. The one that took us from clueless Level 100s to final year warriors. We made it, boldly, and with a collection of stories that’ll stick with us forever.

                                                                                                                                                 ~Lois (Level 400)