"We should have found strength in our numbers. Our differences. Instead, it marked the beginning of our woes," my grandfather explained, warming himself by the fireplace.

I listened attentively while he recounted our people's ordeal during the civil war. Astonishingly, he linked the war to the amalgamation. While he earned my undivided attention, courtesy to his irrefutable aptitude in story telling, the sorry state he pictured was battling for a space in my heart.

Soon, the holidays were over before the sparrows made their seasonal migration. A new section had begun, and so was my misery.

Within my class alone was a smaller Nigeria. Every tribe were represented, including those who were under represented, like mine.

I could make out the young man who was custodian of the keys to the classroom, and his inflated pride. The way he treasured the reputation of Lagos as " the biggest" city in the country over his father's name was no less amusing than a hummingbird with a chicken's cluck.

Also, there was the complacent noble from the arid lands. I never fully understood why he said he would choose a herding and nomadic life as a career.

Regardless, we were stuck with one another, just like the amalgamation designed.

One month after resumption, a presentation on the course "Peace and Conflict" arose. Just when you think you have seen it all, the dice roll with judgement from heaven.

The lagos-born, the nomadic noble, and I, were in the same group.

Three people. Three tribes and cultures. A warring trio, stuck to work out their success.

The countdown began, and the wheels were set in motion.

Sadly, with less than twenty four hours to go, my group had not decided on who would lead.

I retreated into my shell. For someone who had fought for his right for far too long, I was fed up.

The two in my company balled their fists and boxed each other but the matter was far from settled.

The day arrived, and with nothing but few minutes to our presentation, we were all wearing the shroud of suspicion over our heads like hoods of maroon.

At last, to broker peace, I did what I never imagined I would do. 

I stepped onto the platform, and began with a fiction of how my two company had achieved peace in the midst of their conflict— both could not lead the group, despite possessing greater potential than I.

This became the context of our presentation, and a lesson for me. One after another, they spoke from the point of people who had seen conflict first hand.

At the end, we were not commended by the lecturer but somehow, there was this assurance of victory within us. 

I might have started out poorly, but the contribution of my fellows brought us into the front page of our students' newspaper publication.

The next time the lagos-born met me during lunch, he had a proposal for just the three of us.

Getting up from the table with them, I hoped the holiday would come swiftly like a horse. I have to tell my grandfather that our differences have become our strength.