Some memories stay with you not because they were loud or dramatic, but because they quietly shaped you. Today, I’m throwing it back to one of those moments from my time in school - our home management practicum.
As part of the course, we were grouped, about eight of us, and assigned to live together in a three-bedroom flat for a week at a time. Every week, a new group moved in, until the semester was over. It wasn’t just about staying under one roof; it was about learning how to truly manage a home.
We took it seriously. We drew up timetables for house chores, cooking, cleaning, and responsibilities. To make it feel more real, we even gave ourselves a family name — the Otedola family. The name alone made us laugh because of the significance it holds in my country, but it also helped us step into the role we were meant to play: functioning like a real household.
We planned meals, stocked the freezer, cooked different dishes, and followed a strict meal plan to ensure we were eating balanced diets. Our supervisor could show up at any time to inspect the house, so we worked in harmony to keep everything clean, organized, and running smoothly. It wasn’t always easy, but it taught us cooperation, patience, and responsibility.
I remember choosing the master bedroom simply because I arrived first. I shared it with two others, and having a room with its own toilet felt like a small luxury at the time. Little things like that made the experience even more memorable.
Looking back, that practicum was more than an academic requirement. It was a beautiful blend of learning, bonding, and growth. For a short while, we weren’t just students, we were a family. And that’s why this memory still means so much to me.