Will be dropping few chapters of my Project, It is about my experiences in secondary school. UNITY school ( Federal Government Colleges) Most of which were created after the civil war to ensure a United Nigeria.
Enjoy

Pro Unitate Dairy

Genesis

I

Our first term felt like the beginning of a prison sentence; we believed we must have offended our parents to be sent to FGCI. My situation seemed minimal as my parents lived in the same town as the school, albeit on the outskirts. I sympathized with Usman, who traveled all the way from Maiduguri to Ilorin for school. I vividly remember checking the map in the library and realizing how far Borno State was, sharing borders with Chad. It was hard to believe that a child under 12 would spend the next six years hundreds of miles away from home. Abubakar Yusuf, a Lagos born, was also in our hostel and had developed a thick skin against bullying from seniors unlike the rest of us. Abdullah was the youngest in the hostel, making me wonder how young he must have been when he wrote the common entrance exams. He obtained his B.Sc. at 20, a testament to his rapid education. Murtala and his parents had recently moved from Katsina to Kwara. Yusuf, who later became the Headboy, and I were born and had previous education in Ilorin. Kolawoles Parents were in Port Harcourt, adding diversity to our conversations. We heard frightening stories about the severity of bullying before our arrival at the school, particularly about a senior Popularly called “Danger” infamous for his unruly behavior, who was a nightmare for students, teachers, and even the Principal, ( Late Alh. H.I.B Monite) I often wondered what my fate would have been if I had left primary school in Primary 5, potentially experiencing a bit of the Dangers Regime. In Faith House, we gathered firsthand accounts of the previous academic year from our immediate seniors, now in JSS2, such as Ibrahim, Saeed Akosile, Akeem, Abraham, ABA, Emmanuel Ovie, and others. In class, we shared our experiences and compared notes on the seniors from different hostels, trying to identify the most intimidating ones. The school comprised seven hostels: Charity (Yellow), Faith (Green), Hope (Purple), Peace (White), Progress (Pink), School (Blue), and Unity (Red). I resided in Faith. Junior students often spent their entire pocket money "settling" seniors in the hostel but still didn't always escape their scrutiny. This was the primary reason why Abubakar refused to give any money to seniors; he was prepared to endure any punishment or disturbance. A few of us with good handwriting were targeted by seniors who would task us with writing notes for them during night prep, depriving us of study time I had intended to plead with my parents to change schools after the first term, citing the hardships faced in the hostel and its impact on academics. However, my attempts were met with laughter from my dad, who reassured me that the tough experiences would shape me positively. The alternative, an admission offer from Police Secondary School Minna, seemed daunting, prompting me to accept my fate at FGCI. Despite entertaining thoughts of the school burning down to avoid returning, reality proved otherwise. As we transitioned from new students to seasoned ones, the atmosphere grew harsher, with little mercy for any infractions. The sight of the Limca/Goldspot signpost at the school's entrance still sent shivers down our spines, a constant reminder of the challenges ahead. And so, we prepared to face the next term, resigned to our fate. ……………………………To be continued.