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One of the most commonplace features on this campus is the sign for the disabled. Every part of the campus is made acessible for both able-bodied people, and the disabled ones. There are braille signs under every office number, and there are parking spaces reserved only for the disabled. Able-bodied people who park in those places are open to monetary penalties. The big bus that traverses the campus length and breath has a particular section for the weak and elderly. Everyone who sits there must yield their seats when such people get on the bus. There are also automatic door openers meant to help people on wheel chairs to open every door they may want to pass through. By pressing the switch, the door opens about six feet before the person gets there.

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The other prominent and memorable feature of this campus, nay, of this town, are dedicated bicycle and jugging tracks that run through the woods. These tracks are to this town what railway lines are to Ibadan. They are routes specifically constructed for bike riders and runners, and it runs through town without interferring with the passage of cars. The planners of this town are a meticulous people. At points where these bike tracks intersect with the motor roads, the motor roads fly over the tracks, or, shall we say, the tracks go under it. Therefore, if I were to ride a bicycle from here in Cougar Village to St. Louis, I would see any cars on the way until I reach an motor bridge intersection where I would be able to decide whether to come up or keep going. It is beautiful.

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So today I rode to campus on my new bicycle. To say the least, it was a liberating experience having the wind blow by me as I pedalled and stretched all the sleeping muscles of my African thigh to their limit. It was a first time after many years. One never really forgets how to ride a bike, does one? By the time I got to campus about ten minutes later, I felt all the stretch my aching muscles and bones, and I thanked providence for the chance. It was one hell of a ride. On getting to Peck Hall, I saw the Cougar Village shuttle bus offloading its passengers and I waved at the woman driver. She waved back, and smiled. Yes, I would no longer be riding the bus anymore. Not all the time now, anyway, and it feels good. Tomorrow, I go to Six Flags, Missouri, on a campus excursion.

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