Efua’s journal: diary entry, 12/4

Ana dropped by this afternoon and decided to stay the night. I have never felt so confused in my entire life. She is my friend. She is a girl. She has a boyfriend. These are simple enough terms to understand. Why then can I not get the memo? I hate myself. I hate being this way. I hate her too.

Why does she have to always walk around in her undies? I think I know what this is. It’s the devil. It’s inside me. That is the only explanation. It is the ultimate temptation that will decide my fate; heaven or the eternal flames of hell. If I fall then that is the end for me. That would be me sealing the deal and handing it over to the devil. There is no coming back from such a sin. It is stupid. I am stupid. I should go to sleep now since I have tried to study and failed miserably. I should get a new roommate so Ana knows she cannot just waltz in here whenever she wants to.

I think I already smell the sulfur.


After my interviews with some extremely strange folks and some (not going to hide it) call girls, I found my roommate. I met her this morning at a Coke lounge. She is perfect. Her name is Zoya and she is an art student in her third year. At first I was intimidated by her looks. She should be about six feet with a lean physique, like that of a dancer. Her locked hair and extra piercings on her ears gave her this rebel look I envied. But her best feature is her smile. Her smile can easily light up a room and make everyone in it believe in something bigger than themselves.

Alright, I am rambling. I’ll stop.

She does not have a lot of friends, just a close one, called Ajani who also happens to be her partner in a project she is working on for the university’s art exhibition. She also does not attend parties unless she has to be there. This means I can study and not be worried about getting disturbed at 2am in the morning. I’m hoping that having Zoya as my roommate will be different to living with Ana. Ana is a party animal and during our time together I believe she always made an extra effort to return to the apartment late just to get a rise out of me.

Zoya is moving in tomorrow.

Crossing my fingers and hoping for a great semester.


Zoya really is the coolest. Other than her mind-blowing artistic talent she is the best roomate a girl could ask for.

Reasons? She has excellent taste in music, her collection/taste in movies mirrors my collection/taste in movies and she cooks like a pro. Her spaghetti is to die for. I never really got the hang of cooking, like my mother says, ”Efua cannot tell curry from salt but she can tell you all the elements on earth’s periodic table and even the one on Mars”.

Living with Zoya has been nothing short of wonderful. My belly is definitely happy, my life is finally free from drama and unnecessary worries and is now full of artistic culture. I even tried reading a novel today.

Sometimes I catch myself staring at Zoya when she is busy with her art work. There is this look in her eyes whenever she picks up a brush, so intense and full of passion.

I wonder if she sees that in me too; in my passion for medicine.

This forms part of a series of journal entries. Make sure you catch the whole series with #EfuasJournal

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