Nkem felt a great excitement when she saw Pascal, the course representative walking into the large class, with printed papers in his hands. He had an eerie smile, with his smug gait, and exaggerated demeanour of someone who deeply love his position.

The class was noisy; Babbling voices, shouts and incessant shutters of cameras from nudely dressed girls with wild make ups and blinding eyelashes. Some pouting to the camera, while some plucked their pinky tongues out.

“Silence please.” Pascal shouted. He stood in front of the class and looked down the pile of seats. “Please listen class.” He adjusted his eyeglasses. “I just got the score list of the last test from the Communication in English lecturer.” He paused. “I will paste the list on the wall.” He pointed to the white board. “And I have another list with me. If your name appears on this list then you should know you failed the test. And should see Mr. Okeoma at his office.”

Nkem nudged charlse, who sat on her desk listening.

“Did you write well?” She asked him.

“What?” Charlse turned to Nkem.

“The test. Did you write well?”

“Yea. I did my best.” He heaved his shoulder up and down. “I am not expecting an A, but surely not a fail.”

Nkem smiled. She knew he would get an A and so herself. She did prepared well for the test last week. Then, found the essay writing less complex when she got into the hall.

“I do not need to ask if you did well.” Charlse said. “Obviously, you going to smach.”

Nkem stifled smiles. “Lets go and see the list. He just pasted it.”

“Sure.” Charlse stood up. “You lead the way.” He gave a mock smile. “You know I am a gentleman.”

People clustered around the white board. Some peeking over the shoulders of the people closer to the list. A few persons stretching their smartphones to take a shot of the list.

“Did you see your name?” Nkem asked charlse. She nudged back to a girl who pushed her.

“No. I haven’t.”

“Can you get closer? You can check for my name also.”

“Alright.” Charlse said, then began pushing his way closer to the list.

“I will wait in my seat.” She said, at his back. He didn’t reply. He didn’t hear her. The noise has increased. People laughing heartly to the list, some moulded their faces into a bitter faeces.

“Do not worry, Maya. You can do well in the exam.” A boy said to a girl with her palms over her face.

“I had an F in the course last semester.” She cried. “How do I explain having a carry over again.”

Nkem looked at the weeping girl. She shaked her head and prevented herself from having sympathy for her. “At least, her night clubbing would halt.” She thought.

After some mintues, Charlse walked to her seat. “Nkem, I couldn’t find your name on the list.”

“Why?” She looked bewildered.

Charlse said nothing.

“But I wrote the test. I did.”

“I do not know. Maybe you should go and see Mr. Okeoma.”

Nkem kept quiet.

“You should go.” Charlse said. “Before people crowd his office.”

“Alright.”

“I should come with you?”

“I will be fine.” She left.

Mr. Okeoma’s office was a large room with antique furnitures; a sofa, a colossal table with papers, a computer and bottle of water on it. Trophies, medals, wooden awards and a large photo of him in a graduation gown hanging on the walls.

He closed a book at his front and lowered his tiny eyeglasses when Nkem pulled his door and walked inside.

“Good day, sir.” Nkem greeted. She held her hands at her back.

“You are Nkem?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am impressed with your essay. You did exceptionally well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She felt uncomfortable with the words. Her excellence could not be the reason why he omitted her name on the list. And besides she was not the only person who did well in the test. Charlse got an A, and couple of other girls also. She thought.

“Have a seat.” Mr. Okeoma startled her thought.

“Sir?”

“I said have a seat.” He pointed to the seat opposite him. “Sit.”

Nkem walked to the seat. She glanced at him. He was looking at his computer.

“I omitted your name because I wanted to see the good writer in my class.” He stood up, walking round his table to Nkem.” How come I didn’t notice you in my class all long?”

“I have always been in your class sir.” Nkem said.

“Quite factual.” He smiled. “Your essay proved that.” He stood behind her and held her shoulders. And in slowly swift move pushed his hands into her half buckled shirt, into her bra and squeezed her breasts.

Nkem felt surprised. She gently pulled Mr. Okeoma’s hands out of her breasts. She silently stood up and locked her shirt. She looked at him.

“I will give you an A in my course if you let me.”

“Sir, I think I should leave.”

“You wish to leave?” He walked back to his table. He sat down and picked his book up.

“Yes, sir.”

“I can keep you here.” Mr. Okeoma said, without taking his eyes off the page of his book. ” Do not make me to do such. You’re such a beautiful girl.”

Nkem was silent. She stood static and pondered on the old man before her, talking leery to her. She felt like crying.

“Go to your class. Tomorrow, I will send you a message where you are going to meet me.” He gestured to the door. “Go.”

Nkem turned to the door. She grasped the door handle and felt her hand shaking. She walked outside and closed the door. She stood staring at the door.

She got to the class and found charlse at her seat. She picked her bag in silence.

“Did he find your sheet?” Charlse asked.

Nkem halted. She stared at the open windows. The air penetrating through them tasted sour. “Yes. He found my sheet.” She said, turned and left the class.

At 9am the next day, Nkem had bathed and was wearing her cloth for classes when her phone chimed. She picked it from the bed, flipped open the locked screen and stared at the message from an unknown number. “Trinity hotels. Room 89. 10am. Do not risk your chance of graduation, my good writer.”


Story source: http://charlesdonaldfreeman.com.ng/what-i-gave-for-been-a-good-writer/