Beneath the surface of academic rigor and architectural grandeur lies a phenomenon: a language shaped not by textbooks, but by students themselves.

“Where are you going to buy food?” Kwame, a first-year Biological Sciences student asked his colleagues, Akosua and Nana Yaw. “Indece,” said Akosua.

Indeed, they’re from Independence Hall, officially. But no one calls it that.

Nana Yaw, a proud Independence Hall resident, laughs: “We don’t say ‘Independence Hall’ unless we’re speaking officially. It’s Indece. Just Indece.”

Across campus, the same linguistic transformation unfolds. University Hall or Katanga becomes Kat, Republic Hall is Repo, and Continental Hall is simply Conti. Africa Hall? Just Africa. Queen Elizabeth II Hall? Still Queens.

But is it all about the name?

“It’s not just shortening,” explains Akosua. “It’s identity. When someone says ‘Conti,’ you don’t just hear a name, you feel the energy, the pride.”

Beyond the Halls

These nicknames are passed down like folklore, each syllable carrying stories. And it doesn’t stop at halls.

“I’m from Natsu,” says Nti a BSc Natural Resources student, referring to the Faculty of Renewable Natural Resources. “It sounds cooler than saying the full name.”

Architecture becomes Archito. Medical Sciences? Medico. The names are playful, but they’re also powerful shorthand for entire academic cultures.

“When I say I’m from Archito, people immediately picture drawing boards and creativity,” says Yaa, a second-year Architecture student. What about Socioso? hmmm.

More than slang

Dr. John Boulard Forkuor, a sociologist at KNUST, explains: “Within formal institutions that operate by rules, individuals try to create spaces that afford them a bit of freedom so they can relate with the environment.”

He’s observed a growing trend: students personalising their courses with the names of lecturers.

“It’s crucial for their optimal survival,” he says. “They have to personalise the university environment, or they’ll feel lost here for four years. That allows them to function and be seen.”

By giving places and people nicknames, students create a sense of belonging. “It’s their own way of being part of the system,” he adds. “If you restrain it, it’ll affect their sanity and stress levels.”

As KNUST continues to evolve, this student-led language deserves recognition. It’s not just slang, it’s heritage. A living lexicon that reflects the creativity, pride, and communal spirit of the university.

Because when a student says “I’m from Queens,” they’re not just naming a hall. They’re telling a story of Helenus, fried yam and Gari and Beans.