We resumed school in October 1986 for the transitional term in preparation for the new 6334 academic system promulgated by the federal ministry of education. This implied that we would be staying 6 years in secondary school instead of the former 5 years but those students already in forms 4 and 5 would graduate after five years. Modupe would graduate this session.
Modupe was appointed the Girls senior prefect of the school and my friends were congratulating because of my supposed affiliation with her. I could not really tell what I did to Modupe that made her change towards me, I have thought it over without any clue so I decided to keep my distance from her to avoid further embarrassment.
There was a day Modupe was going from classroom to classroom with her cane in hand looking for noise makers or any non conformer. She entered my class, I was discussing an assignment with Kazeem but we all stood up and greeted her. She waved the class to sit down and she pointed the cane at Kazeem and I.
You two! Stand up! Come out here! She commanded
We went to the front of the class
Why were you two disturbing the class? She asked
Senior, we were not disturbing, we were working on an assignment! Kazeem replied.
Shut up! Big head! She barked. Do you do assignments with hands or your mouth? Oya, the two of you, go and kneel in the sun kia! Kia! (Quickly) she commanded.
There was a soft wave of murmuring in the class room.
What is it? She asked the class; or do you all want to go outside and kneel with them? She asked
Yes! Yes! The class chorused. Uncle is our Class Monitor and he does not make noise! Someone dare to say amongst the students.
Who is talking? Come outside this minute! Modupe commanded angrily.
It was Joseph that came out, the boy I slapped sometime ago.
Oh! You have the guts to talk any how to me abi? Modupe queried.
But senior, the class was quiet when you came in, and even if uncle B was talking, it was on a low tone and moreover, he is our class captain! Joseph explained.
By the way, who is uncle B? Modupe asked him, though she knew he was referring to me.
Uncle B! Uncle! The class chorused, pointing at me.
Modupe turned to face me; she poked my chest with her cane.
Hey! They say you are uncle B! Are you not ashamed of your self? Your age mates are in the university and here you are with the age mates of your children! And you are happy that they call you uncle! Agbaya lasan lasan! (Old fool) my friend, go out! Go out and kneel in the sun with your hands up in the sky! She screamed as she flogged every part of my body with the cane. We ran out of the class onto the open field and quickly knelt down. Hands up! Hand up! She was upon us flogging frantically. We obeyed even as we tried to block the canes with our outstretched arms.
Where is that other foolish one that has a big mouth to talk to me any how? She screamed as she charged back into out class room. She flogged Joseph out of the class to out kneeling position.
Common kneel down! Kneel down! You know how to talk abi?
Joseph joined us weeping and writhing in pain.
She did not come back to release us until the close of school when students were rushing to the assembly ground that my English language teacher saw us and told us to stand up and proceed to the assembly ground.
There was another instance when some of us came to class in the morning. The school’s time regulator was the duty prefect and she told us to kneel down as punishment for coming late. Modupe came around and saw that I was amongst the kneeling students: she immediately summoned the Labour prefect and instructed him to take us to the school football field with our Langalanga (long flexible cutlass) to cut grass through out the day. We missed classes that day.
Severally I contemplated confronting Modupe to ask her to forgive me in whatever form I have wronged her but anytime I see her, my heark beat skips and I scurry away before she sees me. My social life in class 2 was very poor and bitter because of my fear for Modupe.
I also recall the day she disgraced me in the presence of the whole school during our monthly “social night” gathering that holds in the school hall every last Saturday of the month. I was representing class 2 in the “Mr. Macho” competition and have scaled two rounds of screening already.
It was my third and last round of flexing muscles and posing amidst cheers and cat cries from the students. I was sure of victory as my shiny body glistered under the florescent bulbs that laminate the hall. We had rubbed our bodies with Vaseline jelly. After my act, I got a resounding ovation and I was all smiles until it was time for the oral interview. The judges of course were a selection of school prefects. I was given a wireless micro phone to answer questions directed at me.
It was the social prefect that asked me the first and only question that shattered my night.
Bolaji! Aka uncle B! He called and the hall went agog again chanting uncle B!
Uncle B!
To Be Continued…

More episode is here http://www.freshvibesblog.com.ng/2017/01/the-abandoned-childpart-9.html?m=1



http://www.freshvibesblog.com.ng/2017/01/the-abandoned-childpart-9.html?m=1