Ozon?u Chronicles: Back to campus with the Ama2000s: Adulting in reverse
Going back to college in your adult years is not a comeback tour. It’s a conscious choice. In Namibia, it looks like early-morning traffic, watching your fuel gauge like a hawk and heading to evening classes straight after work.
This time, we’re not here because we’re stuck. We’re here because we finally know what we want, and we’re not letting adulthood rules talk us out of it.
And then there are the ama2000s.
They arrive fresh. Loud sneakers. Loud confidence. Brains still warm from high school. They raise their hands without fear, challenge lecturers like it’s a live debate and move through campus like they own the future, which, in many ways, they do. Their minds are fast. Their energy is endless. Their exhaustion still comes with quick recovery.
My friend Nani and I sit among them daily, slightly impressed and slightly concerned.
Nani will tell you straight: “These klienkies are too quick.” They catch concepts instantly. He sometimes needs things repeated with examples and patience. He says they run on Wi-Fi, he runs on data.
Me? I’m still keeping up academically but mentally, financially and emotionally, I also know I’m in a marathon.
Balancing work and school at this age is not aesthetic. You attend lectures with work still sitting in your chest. You submit assignments during lunch breaks. You revise between meetings. You choose between that fancy salted butter or printing notes. You’re not juggling, you're prioritising.
Then there’s the dating side, where things become comedy.
Younger men are bold now. Direct. They flirt without apology. They say what they want without pretending to be confused. It’s refreshing... and slightly alarming.
For Nani, campus crushes are no longer innocent; they are criminal investigations. A pretty smile immediately turns into questions: “Is she 18? 21? Or one of those geniuses who entered college at 16?” He says even the 21-year-olds feel too young. And yet they get excited when they hear he has a car. Which adds a new layer of pressure: now he must manage attraction, age uncertainty and self-restraint all at once.
On top of that, our fuel budget has doubled. Campus trips are calculated by how much is in the bank. Weekend plans with the boys are now mostly theoretical. What used to be, “Let’s link on Friday,” is now, “Let me check my fuel, my deadlines, my energy and my bank balance.”
Most weekends don’t survive the couch.
But being the oldest in the room comes with its own quiet strength.
You don’t study for vibes. You study with intention. You don’t dream blindly, you dream deliberately. You’re not here to impress anyone. You’re here because you chose growth after life had already tested you.
So for now, we share lecture halls with the fearless and the fatigued. They remind us how to be brave again. We remind them that bravery must eventually learn how to endure.
And Nani? He’s just trying to pass, keep his tank above red, avoid accidentally dating a teenager, and make it home before 21h00.
And honestly... same.
This time, we’re not here because we’re stuck. We’re here because we finally know what we want, and we’re not letting adulthood rules talk us out of it.
And then there are the ama2000s.
They arrive fresh. Loud sneakers. Loud confidence. Brains still warm from high school. They raise their hands without fear, challenge lecturers like it’s a live debate and move through campus like they own the future, which, in many ways, they do. Their minds are fast. Their energy is endless. Their exhaustion still comes with quick recovery.
My friend Nani and I sit among them daily, slightly impressed and slightly concerned.
Nani will tell you straight: “These klienkies are too quick.” They catch concepts instantly. He sometimes needs things repeated with examples and patience. He says they run on Wi-Fi, he runs on data.
Me? I’m still keeping up academically but mentally, financially and emotionally, I also know I’m in a marathon.
Balancing work and school at this age is not aesthetic. You attend lectures with work still sitting in your chest. You submit assignments during lunch breaks. You revise between meetings. You choose between that fancy salted butter or printing notes. You’re not juggling, you're prioritising.
Then there’s the dating side, where things become comedy.
Younger men are bold now. Direct. They flirt without apology. They say what they want without pretending to be confused. It’s refreshing... and slightly alarming.
For Nani, campus crushes are no longer innocent; they are criminal investigations. A pretty smile immediately turns into questions: “Is she 18? 21? Or one of those geniuses who entered college at 16?” He says even the 21-year-olds feel too young. And yet they get excited when they hear he has a car. Which adds a new layer of pressure: now he must manage attraction, age uncertainty and self-restraint all at once.
On top of that, our fuel budget has doubled. Campus trips are calculated by how much is in the bank. Weekend plans with the boys are now mostly theoretical. What used to be, “Let’s link on Friday,” is now, “Let me check my fuel, my deadlines, my energy and my bank balance.”
Most weekends don’t survive the couch.
But being the oldest in the room comes with its own quiet strength.
You don’t study for vibes. You study with intention. You don’t dream blindly, you dream deliberately. You’re not here to impress anyone. You’re here because you chose growth after life had already tested you.
So for now, we share lecture halls with the fearless and the fatigued. They remind us how to be brave again. We remind them that bravery must eventually learn how to endure.
And Nani? He’s just trying to pass, keep his tank above red, avoid accidentally dating a teenager, and make it home before 21h00.
And honestly... same.
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