Chapter 1

That Sunday morning was chilly. I tossed and turned on my bed. I covered myself with the blanket, making sure no part of my body was exposed. I couldn’t sleep for an hour without waking up. I looked at my chronology watch which Daddy bought for me from Paris. It was 3.30 am. The room was pitch dark, save for the glittering lights emanating from my watch. The reason for my restiveness was my anticipation of Daddy’s return from the United Kingdom. He had been away for a whole month and was due back the day before.
Joshua, the driver, came very early the previous day. He washed the car clean. The Peugeot 505 Station Wagon dazzled like a brand new car. He headed to Port Harcourt International Airport shortly after washing.

Daddy called Mama in the evening of the previous day informing her that his KLM flight arrived late necessitating him to pass a night in Port-Harcourt. The Enugu-Port Harcourt expressway most recently has been ridden with hordes of armed bandits in the nights. The roads are mostly deserted in the night by motorists for fear of attacks by the marauding armed robbers.
I had cleaned his bedroom thoroughly: I took time to clean his toilets, bathtub, and floor. I changed his bed linen to the new ones he bought before he travelled. His rugged floor got a perfect clean with my vacuum cleaner. I opened the air fresheners that he hid in a corner under his bed; the fragrance was talcum powder, which complemented the room.

I also took time in cleaning the living-room. The vacuum cleaning took me time because of the size of the room. Dusting the side stools and centre table also took some time due to neglect by our house help. Daddy would scream on top of his voice if he noticed the living-room was dirty. Cleaning of the living room is done by Otuwe- the house help, but on Saturdays, I perform the duties. The last Saturday before Daddy travelled, he pulled my ear as he pointed out how dirty the living room was. Mama passed as I was busy cleaning the stools; she was surprised at the serious devotion I attached to cleaning. My previous stints in cleaning the parlour had been unsatisfactory. It was either I abandoned the work halfway to watch movies, or simply dozed off on the sofa.

‘So you can be this serious? Ifugo gi bu nwa,’ Mama said as she walked to her room.
I finally woke up at 6am. I sat down on the bed, feeling too lazy to stand up. The fan was off. Mama had probably put it off. Jemmy liked the fan in full blast because he was fat. I got off the bed and opened the door. As I entered the corridor leading to the parlour, I heard Mama and another person speaking in tongues at the top of their voices. I went closer, taking care to avoid being seen. Nemanja was screaming, ‘…die, die, die! Any enemy of Chief Obama Orizu and his entire household, die by fire….’ She prayed as she shook her head profusely, resembling Medusa in Clash of the Titans.
Nemanja is Daddy’s niece. He employed her to work in the school kitchen as a supervisor. She is a staunch Spiritual Life Church member. Since she arrived from the village, she had been a devoted prayer partner of Mama. In isolation, she can pray all night long. Her voice can be heard from our room, even Daddy’s room. Daddy woke up one night and warned her not to disturb again. Ever since she had kept her voice low.
I stood in the corridor waiting for the round of prayers to end. I had the urge to eat chocolates that were in the fridge and was fighting the temptation. The training I had in the Lord’s Church was not to enter the church when prayers were going on. The reverend minister always hammered it into the ushers not to allow members to get into the church when prayers were going on.
Mama ended the prayers by saying the grace which Nemanja recited with her. Still in the holy mood, Mama sang: “we are saying thank Jesus, thank you, my Lord….” As I stepped into the parlour, Mama hushed me and motioned to me to sit down, not allowing me to say the greeting which was on my lips.
“The enemies of Obama are at it again,” Mama said.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Hired assassins came here last night,” she paused and continued, “Akwali came to the side of my window and called me. He said that around 4:00 am three armed men jumped the fence and came in. They tied him to his chair and asked if Daddy had a gun. He told them Daddy did not and wasn’t even back. They didn’t believe him and slapped him three times. They thought Daddy had sneaked into the house, as that was the practice of those that travelled abroad. Old Soldier, the second security man, was patrolling the back of the house when he sighted the men and fired two gunshots into the air. Scared, the armed men took to their heels. When Old Soldier got to Akwali, he was sobbing because the slaps were sweltering.”
“I don’t think they are hired assassins. They may be armed robbers who were acting on information,” I said.
“Obama has a lot of enemies who may send assassins pretending to be armed robbers,” Mama said.
That didn’t make much sense to me. Why would they want to kill Daddy? Daddy was just a strict person that liked discipline. He was a stickler for setting rules and wielded the stick any time there was indiscipline. Though some people didn’t like his tough stance, still many parents felt safe keeping their children in the school.
“I am so shocked to hear this. I didn’t listen to the sound of the gun. I was awake around 3.30 am.”
“I didn’t hear the sound too,” Mama said.
Mama held my hands and looked into my eyes. I could see fear and panic written over her face. Mama panicked any time she sensed danger.
“Don’t leave God! If you do, ndi iro ga egbufu gi. Enemies will kill you.”
Nemanja sat down still meditating. Her Bible -a partly torn big King James Version- was on her laps. She was a moving Bible who had the habit of reading the Bible whenever she was less busy. She won the annual Bible recital completion in Spiritual Life Headquarters in Lagos where she recited the whole of the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John).
“Go and call the rest for morning devotion,” Mama said.
Morning devotion was held very early every morning before we left for school. But during weekends, it came a bit later.
I banged on the door of my room which I shared with Jemmy-my elder brother- to wake him, then knocked on Kema’s room. Kema-my elder sister- shared the room with Otuwe, who spread her foam on the floor. Whenever I called them for morning devotion, I only knocked hard once on their door, and they would understand the message. In the extension building outside the main building, I knocked on Uche and Kpoke’s room. There was no response. I entered their room which they had left unlocked. Summertime, Will Smith’s song was playing in a little tone.
“Time for morning devotion,” I said, raising my voice.
“Oooh! Everyday devotion, I am coming,” Uche said as he tried to stand up.
Kpoke signalled to me that he was coming too. I rejoined the rest in the living room. Jemmy, Kema, and Otuwe had joined Mama and Nemanja.
“Where are Uche and Kpoke?” Mama asked.
“They are on their way.”
“They have to be serious with morning devotion, every day we will be waiting for them.”
Kpoke and Uche joined us shortly.
“You two had better be serious with morning devotion. Every day we have to wait for you,” Mama said.
“Sorry ma, it’s just now Chinedu called us,” Kpoke said apologetically.
“Uche did you hear gun shots last night?” Mama asked.
“Not at all ma.”
“Yes, I heard two gunshots,” Kpoke said. “I thought I heard it in my sleep.”
“They were fired in this compound. I say gunmen came last night to either rob or assassinate Obama, but my God was more powerful than them. They succeeded in tying up Akwali, but Old Soldier came from the back and fired shots in the air. God scared them, and they ran away”.
“What! Did they come to kill Pa? God forbid! He will live long,” Uche said.
“Amen,” Mama answered.
“Thank God they didn’t come into the house,” Kema said.
“How many were they?” Jemmy asked.
“Three,” I replied. More questions had come from Otuwe and Kpoke before Mama motioned to Jemmy to start the morning devotion.
“Let’s all stand-up,” Jemmy said.
He started a song, and we joined.
“He’s alive! Amen! He’s alive: Jesus is alive forever, he’s alive amen….” That was Jemmy’s traditional song. He loved singing it whenever it was his turn to conduct the devotion. He raised a few other praise songs before he opened his Bible for the day’s teaching.
“I am reading from the book of Psalm 125,” he said in a low voice. Only Mama and Nemanja had their Bibles. “Where are your Bibles?” Mama asked.
We all went back to our rooms to bring our Bibles. Jemmy read the whole verse and tried to explain. He was stuttering and making wrong biblical references.
“Jemmy, it’s okay, Nemanja please conclude the teaching and close the meeting,” Mama said.
Nemanja continued from where Jemmy stopped. She explained the chapter and cited some supporting biblical verses.

‘Shall we all subject ourselves to the will of God and kneel before him? Confess your sins. You are before the King of Kings: tell him how you have wronged him’.
Prayers were said in hushed tones; each person did not want his neighbour to hear his or her confessions.
“Pray that God should protect the family of Chief Obanma Orizu.” She gave some other prayer points before rounding off the prayers. Her prayer was very long. Daddy never allowed her to pray during weekdays because of her long prayers. On one occasion as she was praying, Daddy had to shout a loud amen before she stopped.
After the grace, we stood up, but Kpoke was fast asleep.
“Wake up Kpoke,” Mama said.
I went and shook him. He was startled and stood up.
“Why are you sleeping during prayers?” Mama asked.
“Auntie, I was not sleeping, I was meditating.”
There was an outburst of laughter at his response. ‘It’s not only meditating, but you were also preaching,’ Mama made a jest of him.
As we laughed, we heard Daddy’s official car’s horn blaring from a distance. We all rushed outside to welcome him. Old Soldier opened the main gates as the car got to the small entrance. Joshua, the driver, smoothly stared the big car through the narrow gates aided by years of doing that. Daddy came out as soon as the car came to a stop.
“Onye ije nnoo, traveller you are welcome,” Mama said.
Daddy wore black jeans and a white t-shirt. He was looking big and very fresh.
“Daddy welcome,” we all greeted.
“My people I am back. Nelly, how are you?”
Daddy calls Mama Nelly as a pet name. Dad hugged Mama and after that shook hands with all of us.
I quickly went to Mama’s room and took Daddy’s key. He came back with two bags and three boxes. Jemmy carried the boxes while I carried the bags to his room. We all came to the living room to listen to Daddy.
“Do you know that Nwanne Ofene is still not married despite years of searching for a husband? I was at her place in Manchester”.
“She is so choosy, that’s why she’s having this problem,” Mama said.
“I met Dr. Otiks at Heathrow airport. He was limping and looking murky. He said he lost his wife in the ADC plane crash”.
“Ewoo, that woman suffered to give birth. She gave birth to three of her children through caesarean operation”.
“I remember.”
“How many kids did she give him?”
“She gave birth to three boys and one girl.”
“His wife always said she needed a girl.”
Dr. Otiks was our neighbour at Federal Government College, Kwali when Daddy was the vice principal. He was Daddy’s good friend.
“Nedu, get me a glass of cold water,” Daddy said.
I came back with a glass of water and sat opposite him. The vice principal, academics, Mrs. Bucknor, came in with Mrs. Effiong, the Guardians, and Counseling mistress.
“Welcome sir,” Mrs. Bucknor said as she curtsied.
“Chief, welcome back,” Mrs. Effiong greeted.
“Nelly, good morning,” Mrs. Bucknor greeted Mama.
“Sit down; you are welcome,” Mama said.
“How was your trip, sir?” Mrs. Effiong asked.
“It was an enjoyable experience but coming back was hectic because they shifted our flight twice.”
“How was the place?” Mrs. Bucknor asked.
“Wonderful! Splendid! It’s not to be compared to Nigeria. Everything works there. There is work available for everybody!”
“Which cities did you visit?” Mrs. Effiong asked.
“I went to London, Manchester, Newcastle, and Portsmouth.”
“Whoa! My half sister’s husband is a lecturer at the University of Portsmouth”.
“Interesting, that was where I did my Masters.”
“When did you arrive?” Mrs. Bucknor asked.
“The KLM plane arrived at Port Harcourt airport by 6.30 pm. I slept in the Hotel Presidential and came in this morning. It’s not up to fifteen minutes since I came back”.
“We were on the way out when my son, Nnamdi, told me he saw your car,” Mrs. Bucknor said.
“I was already dressed up for church when VP told me to come with her,” Mrs. Effiong said.
“You both did well. You don’t want to eat the bottom of the pot,” Daddy said.
“Gbam!” Mrs. Bucknor retorted.
“What may I offer you people?” Daddy asked.
“Any soft drink, sir,” Mrs. Bucknor said.
“Nedu, get two bottles of malt from the fridge. Oh, they won’t be cold, I remember. Put on the fridge for them to get cold,” Mama said.
“Don’t mind; we can take it hot. The weather is already cold,” Mrs. Bucknor said.
I came with the drinks and opened it for them. As they were sipping their drinks, Daddy went to his room, and came back with a small handbag and a T-shirt.
He gave the handbag to the V.P and the t-shirt to Mrs. Effiong. They both expressed their gratitude and left shortly after.
There was a knock on the door. The senior boarding house master, Mr. AkosaAkosa came in with the Physical and Health Education master, Mr. Paul Amaju. The news of Daddy’s return was flying. Other teachers breezed in to pay homage.
Daddy told me to fill three trays with various drinks and bring them to the parlour. The room was filled with people: teachers and junior staff. Most of them were already preparing to go to church. He also had me bring a big brown Echolac box from his room. He distributed gifts -ranging from men’s and female undies, singlet, socks, pullovers and canvass- to the morning visitors.
“These pants are Marks and Spencer,” Daddy said as he handed a pair of pants to a teacher.
Daddy narrated his journey and the experience he had in U.K. they took their drinks. He was an excellent raconteur who held his listeners spellbound. After a while, they started going one after another.
Mr. AkosaAkosa stayed back. He wasn’t a keen churchgoer. He was the closest teacher to Daddy. He came to the house every day at night to inform Daddy of situations in the school. He brought with him all sorts of gossips. Teachers avoided him because of his tale-bearing attitude. When Daddy reported to the school, he was the first teacher he met. Since then their relationship had blossomed.
I was in the parlour pretending to be watching television. Daddy excused him and went to his room. He came back with a pack of stockings and a sweater. He delayed giving Mr. Akosa his gifts when the teachers were around.
“Obama, thank you, onye kambuzi kwa, who am I?”
“The sweater is a designer; I bought it in Newcastle.”
“It’s beautiful; I guess it’s handmade.”
“It is! To be sincere, I bought it for £40”.
Nobody went for service in the house except Nemanja.We were all waiting for the visitors to leave before they stormed the parlour. When Mr. Akosa left, Daddy told me to call Mama. He went in and came back with a handbag and two duty-free bags. He gave Mama a towel, a set of knitting tools, a hollandaise wrapper, a box of perfume, and a set of jewelry.
“Onye nwe m daalu, my owner, thank you,” Mama said as she took a cursory look at the items.
“Nedu, this is for you.”
He gave me a brown Italian sandal, a pack of singlet and two t-shirts. I thanked him and started testing the shoe.
“Go and call others.”
He gave Jemmy a pack of singlet, a wrist watch, and a pair of trousers. Kema got a brass bangle, a scientific calculator, perfume, and a necklace. Kpoke and Uche got a pair of trousers and a pair of sneakers each.
“Where is Otuwe?”
Otuwe came in immediately as if she had been eavesdropping. She got a nightgown and a pair of slippers. Daddy handed Mama two boxes of Kit-Kat chocolate, a box of assorted sweets, and some biscuits.
“Obama, you raided the shops in London, I am pleased,” Mama said.
“I bought them at Heathrow airport. Sweets are not expensive there as they are in Nigeria. I purchased the box of Kit-Kat for £5 while the sweets went for £4.50.I can’t remember how much I bought the biscuits”.
“Before I forget, Nedu you will see a blue polythene bag near to my bed, bring it.” I hurriedly stood up and went to get it.
“Nedu, Nedu, Nedu,” I heard my name as Daddy hollered. I came with the polythene bag and handed it to Daddy.
“You want to spend the whole day getting me the bag?”
When I got to his room, I was fascinated with the things Daddy brought. I was busy feeding my eyes before Daddy called me.
“Nelly, take this, its mushroom.”
“Thank you, sir. Is it like our own?”
“See for yourself.”
“Nedu, get a tray for me,” Mama said.
I brought a medium-sized tray from the kitchen that was given to Daddy as a souvenir in a burial. The mushroom was in a transparent white pack. They looked like big buttons.
“This specie is not in Nigeria. I hope it tastes nice,” Mama said.
“It will taste nice. The Ndeches prepared Afang soup with it when I went to their house in Newcastle.”
“How is Mr. Ndeche’s wife, the Brazilian?”
“She is doing well. She works in a stock broking firm. Her size is frightening.”
“With all the junk food over there, she should be fat”.
“Fat is just an understatement. She was looking so obese. She can’t even pass through the door comfortably”.
“That’s how Nwanyimma looks like now,” Mama said.
“Where did you see her?”
“I saw her at Justice Jeremiah’s son wedding. She looked old”.
“Okay the wedding I delegated you to attend. Remember her mum was very fat”.’
“Her mum was fat, but not to that extent”.
“How was the wedding?”
“It was well attended. It was more or else a society wedding. The big brass in the society attended”.
“I will see Justice next month in the village. As the former attorney general, there will be a class of people that will participate in the wedding.”
Mama related the assassin incident to Daddy. He was still and looked unruffled. “I suspect that those people are assassins,” Mama said.
“They can’t get me! What do they want from me?”
“They are assassins; I don’t think they are robbers.”
“Why do you think they are assassins?”
“You are famous and very strict. You have stepped on the toes of parents. They may want to get back at you”.
“I’ve paid my dues. I am not afraid of anybody. God knows my hands are clean. Even if they kill me, my people will give me a befitting burial”.
“God forbid! Nobody will kill you,” Mama said.
“I jide offor ndi iro agaghi enweta gi,” Daddy said. Daddy stood up and went to have rest in his bedroom.
In the night, the Bursar, Mr. Bala came with his wife, Aisha. His wife lived in Jos with her kids. They waited for Daddy in the parlour till he woke up. Daddy returned to the living-room wearing navy blue pyjamas with a pair of slippers that matched it.
I strolled to the kitchen to see what was going on. Mama was sharing chocolates and biscuits. She gave them to Otuwe, who put them in a tray to distribute. Whenever Mama shared things, she did it based on seniority; but for the chocolates and biscuits she was sharing, she made it even.
I went to the extension building to stay with Kpoke and Uche. Kpoke and Uche were taking cornflakes.
“Join us,” Kpoke said. I was already eating my chocolate. I declined their invitation.
“Where is my chocolate?” Uche asked. Kpoke looked at me, anxiously waiting for my reply.
“Don’t worry Otuwe is bringing your own”.
Kpoke was Daddy’s nephew. He had been living with us since JS 2. He was now in SS 2. He lived in Lagos with his father who was a director of the Central Bank. Uche was Daddy’s friend’s son. He started living with us two years ago. Both of them were in the same class. Every morning I walked to class with them. Classes started at 8.00am and ended at 2.30pm.

Chapter Two
The Assembly


Assembly was the next day, Monday. The general assembly of students held on the football field. Students arranged themselves in columns, based on classes. The class captain stayed in front of each line.
The school band was comprising bands, drums, trumpets, cymbals, and flutes. The academic staff -the principal, the vice principals of academics and administration, and teachers- stayed few metres away. The principal would sit in the same row with the two VPs. The teachers sat in rows at the back of the principal starting from the most senior. A huge bell was placed in front of the principal which he would ring whenever he wanted to call for attention.
It was 7.30am, and the band started playing. The trumpets were blaring. Kpoke, Uche and I finished dressing, took our bags and headed for school. It was a twenty-minute walk to school, but we used a shortcut that took us to school in less than fifteen minutes. The melody of the band was very captivating. The trumpet sound was getting clearer as we got closer.
We got to the assembly by 8.00am. Prefects were busy arranging students in their appropriate lines. The senior boarding house master Mr. AkosaAkosa was busy making sure that students were well dressed. He patrolled the assembly ground with the head boy, Monday Aristotle.
“Tuck in your shirt! Why didn’t you polish your sandals? Why didn’t you comb your hair? Dirty boy, why didn’t you wash your shirt? Kneel down…!” Those were his words as he checked out one student after the other. He was dreaded by students and teachers because of his closeness to the principal. He could do and undo.
Teachers and the VPs were already seated when Daddy’s official car arrived. The car was packed under the mango tree close to the field. He came down from the car and was walking to his table. He wore a blue safari suit. On sighting Daddy who was the principal, students roared: “Obama, Obama, Obama…!” Teachers got up from their seats and gave Daddy handshakes as he arrived. He went to his seat and sat down.
The VP administration took the mic from the table. The volume was high, and he had to signal to the band prefect to adjust it. “It’s time for devotion. If you are a Christian, pray to God your own way. And if you are a Muslim, pray to Allah”. The VP rounded up the prayers, and avoided using the name of Jesus.
The national anthem and the national pledge were recited by all as the band gave us complementary beats. Next was the school’s anthem:
From far and near we come to thee
Dear Federal Government College, Ubahu
Great Porter of mind and body
We yield ourselves to thee to mould
Alma mater hive of learning
Camp of patriots and good breeding
We cherish thee and this offer
To shine for thee now and after

The Press Club president, Arinze Dunkwu read the news. The news was on domestic affairs of the school along with national and international events. It normally lasted five minutes.
Everybody was waiting for Daddy to pick the microphone. He took the mic, and there was an ovation from the students. A student raised a song:
“Obama, Obama, Obama ka anyi ga eso
O na Aguje o na gaga Obama ka anyi ga eso”.
Daddy motioned to the students to calm down.
“Good morning all.”
“Good morning sir,” the students chorused.
“I am glad to be back. I left for the United Kingdom last month for my annual leave. My stay in the U.K was a month and two days. I bring to you greetings from Nigerians in U.K. I must say I had a lovely time. The country is so organized, and everybody obeys the law. The laws are so sacrosanct that even high ranking officers dare not break them. There is adequate security for the citizens. Jobs are available, and wages are commensurate. Some students here that have been privileged to travel abroad know what I am saying. I thank the two VPs, teachers, and students for acting well since I left. I had no cause to be regularly calling because I know that the VPs are capable. I enormously thank them for assiduously working hard to protect the integrity of the school”.
Daddy shook their hands and continued.
“However, the reports I am getting are appalling. There are lists of bounds breakers, extortionists, bullies, and truants. I can’t tolerate this upswing of indiscipline. I cannot! I cannot!The question you should be asking yourself is: why am I here? I owe your parents the duty to protect, discipline, nurture, and groom you for the future. I have done a lot to better your life. The quality of your tuition is excellent. All the teachers in the senior classes each have a master’s degree. There are four phone booths and two emergency phones in the senior boarding house and senior boarding house mistress’ houses. The standard of food served in your dining is of high quality compared to other colleges. The clinic is equipped with quality drugs and well qualified staff. The school tuck shop is standard; I am planning on doing away with the tuck shop and building a shopping mall where students can get the essential things they need. Progress Bank is opening a cash centre in the school very soon. The reason I am doing all these things is to make this school a microcosm community. I have done a lot to fill the lacuna on your knowledge by organising extra classes, but to no avail”.
Noises were coming from the students. Daddy kept quiet to understand what was causing the stir.
“Head boy, head boy, what is causing the noise?” He walked closer to Daddy and told him.
“You mean they don’t know the meaning of ‘lacuna’? Head boy, what is ‘lacuna’?”
The head boy stood still with his face downwards, and his hands crossed at the back.
“You mean the head boy do not know the meaning? This is serious”.
“That boy, come out here.” Daddy pointed at an SS3 student. He came out and stayed in front of Daddy.
“What is the meaning of ‘lacuna’?”
“I don’t know sir.”
“Okay, I throw the question to every student. If you know, it come out and say it”. Nobody got out though Daddy waited for about two minutes.
“It’s a crying shame that no student knows the meaning. All English Language teachers should come out”. They formed a single row in front of Daddy, numbering nine. “Mrs. Ndoki, what’s the meaning of ‘lacuna’?” She stepped out and took the mic from Daddy. “It means a gap in something.”
“My English teachers, you people have to be up and doing. There is a lack of the depth in the students’ vocabulary. I started using the word ‘lacuna’ in my junior class in secondary school.” Daddy said without acknowledging Mrs. Ndoki’s answer.
“The list of bounds breakers is mind boggling: OgaliOgali, Bonaventure Usman, Abort Uwakwe, OgaliOgali again,” Daddy paused. “OgaliOgali has been a constant defaulter. His name is a recurring decimal. No assembly passes by without his name being mentioned. Last term he went on two weeks’ suspension. This time, he will go on an indefinite suspension. His mum came to my office last term weeping. Can you see the torture this boy is causing the mother? From the first list, the names of the extortionists are Abort Uwakwe, Emeka Ubochi, Obiyo Pascal, OgaliOgali (again), Patricia Igboanugo. It is amazing that a girl is extorting money. Patricia Igboanugo, see me in my office after the assembly. Except for OgaliOgali, others will cut for one week.”
He later called the names of prep defaulters and truants; their punishment was grass cutting for two days”.
Daddy cleared his throat and continued. “Before I conclude, I witnessed an ugly incidence as I was coming back from the airport yesterday. I saw a boy defecating in the bush opposite the VP admin’s house. When my car stopped, on sighting me he ran away. Unfortunately for him, his identity card dropped. Enobong Inyang come out here!” He delayed in getting out.
“I give you till the count of ten to come out or else you will proceed on an indefinite suspension.” One of the prefects then dragged him out.
“How dare you delay this assembly? You brat. Kneel in front of me and face your fellow students. I have equipped your toilets to standard, still students like you prefer defecating in the bush. Anyone who defecates in the Bush is an animal.”
“Jagualizer, Jagualizer,” some students hollered. Jagualizer is a for someone who defecates outside the toilet. Daddy left him kneeling without pronouncing any punishment.
“In the next assembly, I don’t want to see the long lists again. You students must learn to behave well and carry yourselves with dignity. Modest behaviour is what I expect from all of you. You should learn to have a sense of decorum. I won’t tolerate this long lists again…VP Academics, please I want to hold a meeting with all the senior teachers from grade level 10 upwards and the prefects at 8 pm today.”
He handed the mic to the VP Admin. He took the mic and told us to say the School Pledge;
1. Promptness at all times
2. Regular attendance
3. Respect for college property
4. Quiet an orderly behaviour
5. Respect for rights and property of others
6. Courtesy to all persons
7. Adherence to college rules and regulations.
The senior boarding house master said the closing prayers. The assembly ended, and we departed for our classes.
Classes started at 9 am on Mondays and 8.00am on other days. My class, SS1 E, was a class with a bias for Further Mathematics. In the college, four senior classes were science classes. Classes D, E, and F offered Further Maths and Technical Drawing. Competition in the Science classes was fierce. The best student in my class and the school as a whole, Bukky Akinyemi scored 95% last term. She scored 100% in Chemistry, 100% in Mathematics, 100% in Economics and 100% in Physics. She was a reference point for many teachers. Daddy was so fond of her. “I wish all students will be like Bukky Akinyemi,” Daddy would say at the assembly. Right from her junior classes she had been doing well. She scored straight A’s in Junior WAEC exam. She was petite in nature, with a dazzling face. She made up for her size with brains and beauty.
Mr. Benbella, my form master, paired a girl and a boy on a seat. He also paired the academically weak with the bright ones. He did