#justiceforsylvester #justiceforsylvesteroromoni #dowencollege

Boarding School & a culture of evil, bullying, wickedness & a relaying of vengeance : https:///3dATcFr

"Mummy can you talk to daddy to change my school?" This was a definitive request made by Sylvester to his parent, Mr. & Mrs. Oromoni. Unfortunately, his request was not addressed with a significant understanding.

Sylvester’s request ignited the emotive part of my personality and send me down memory lane on a sober reflection.

As I enrolled in SS1 in a boarding school, I was overwhelmed and traumatized, during the holiday I told my parent “I do not want to go back to that school again”. I suggested the options I wanted but my parents don’t have the requisite exposure and enlightenment to fathom what I was saying.

After my Junior Secondary Class, I was so keen in continuing my Senior Secondary Class in a boarding school. My believe was that it will aid my concentration for academic excellence. I thought a day school for a student who wants to be serious will be faced with lots of challenges of distraction. So, I developed enough reason for my interest in a boarding school. In my Junior Secondary school days, I fall in the category of the best high performing students and the school principal was not pleased that I am seeking a transfer from the school after our Junior Secondary School Certificate Examination. The School Principal tried to dissuade my mind from leaving but I already had an irrevocable mindset about leaving for a boarding school. Was that a prophetic warning from my day school principal? Eventualities in my boarding school experience will ascertain.

Hence the preparation for a boarding school started, despite having a qualifying JSCE result, I was not admitted into Government Science School Kuru. My childhood ambition was to become a Mechanical Engineer because I love practical vocational skills, a reason Government Technical College, Vom, was another of my choice option for a senior secondary education. As providence will have it Government Secondary Schools became out of the options for me, I opted for a prestigious missionary private school. There was the crux of the ordeal of my story here.

My mother took me to the school, so remote from the city, we painstakingly went so I can write the school’s admission examination, which I did and passed so well to the glory of God. It is relieving and gratifying that the examiner of the school’s admission exam ascertained my qualification to graduate into the next class I should be right from my previous school. It is quite on few occasions that candidate get to retain a class they ought to be after taking the school’s examination, candidates are usually meted with an unarguable demotion recommendation. So, I got to be rightfully admitted into SS1, so surprisingly.

The harsh reality of being in boarding school downed on me in my first and second term. It was a new experience for me, I was naïve I do not understand the culture of how to live well in a boarding school. I came to boarding school hook-line-sinker just from my emotive desire to be an excellent student. I never knew the importance of having a school father or mother just like how in life endeavors one will succeed well with a good support system, I never knew that it is wiser to have your provisions stored in a staff house for safe keeping to prevent it from devourers, I never understand the adaptive strategies of living in a boarding school. I came in so innocent and vulnerable. My innocence became my albatross. I became a victim of bully and torture in boarding school. I was lost and confused, why all this? I never saw it coming and I do not have a fore knowledge of how it is in a boarding school, my imagination was that of a conducive environment to excel. Our idealisms are often confronted by the cold realisms of life experiences. I never bargained for this. It was a devastating experience for a young promising teenager that I am, so desirous to succeed. It was a shocking experience, I was always sleeping in class and lost in thought how I got myself in a mess of a boarding school. It was a confusion for a young vulnerable teenager. I became maligned with that sorrow and frustration. I was a regular customer of the most terrific gang of bullies in the school. It was a public knowledge. A classmate once avoided me saying I should not rub the cream of attraction I have for bullies on him. It was that bad. How do I solve this ordeal and change the narrative? My first and second term experience were so battered & tattered. My results were nothing to write home about, it was a huge torment for a young teenager who is desirous to excel. It was shocking how I became a shadow of myself, a young teenager whose principal in his former school was resisting his interest for a transfer now turn to a never do well in a boarding school. How did I lose it? Where did I miss it? These were the frustration lingering in my mind? I lost my academic abilities in the hostilities of a hostile environment. Can I ever recover it back? My heart was so saddened. At the end of second term, I did not qualify to be in a Science Class due to poor academic performance. We held science class with high esteem and prestige. Missing it was a painful and saddening experience for a young teenager of me. How will my childhood dream of becoming a Mechanical Engineer come to pass? I felt so down and depressed about these experiences. This is me who was so good in Integrated Science, Introductory Technology & Mathematics in my Junior Class to the extent of gaining the school administration’s recognition awards. The suggestion of my day school’s principal to complete my secondary school education with them kept flashing in my brain. How I left where I was being valued to a jungle-like place, where brute is might and survival of the fittest is the adaptive mechanism, this thought kept hurting and hunting me. Returning back to my day school was a thought I considered shameful to sustain.

I kept on investigating which boarding school should I consider going again. I was shocked to hear about the customary nature of boarding schools. I was simply like a toad that only knows about cold water and thought there was only one type of water but only get to realize there was another type of water the day it falls into a hot water. I learnt the situation in those government owned boarding schools are more traumatic like a pandemonium in the gate of hell.


https:///3dATcFr


Unlike Sylvester, I insisted and persisted I will not return to that school, not really because the school is bad but more because of bullies. In fact, UFTC JK actually held the reputation of one of the best secondary schools in Plateau State. Its fortune was not well managed in accordance to contemporary jet age realities. Hence the fortune of “Mother Uni-faith Kogi” dwindled to an abysmally disappointing level.

During the holiday at the home front, I created a serious drama scene titled I must not return to that boarding school, I must get another school. To express my heartfelt desire for my decision I was willing to repeat a class on this aim. So, at that point I tried to force my way, I beckoned on my mother to talk to her trading customer and friend who was the principal of Saint Joseph College, Vom, to enable my admission into St. Joseph College. I was even willing to repeat a class and forget about the year the cankerworms have eaten. I made sure we went to meet the School Principal, we communicated our mission to her but my mother does not know how to lobby and was not willing to press on with my desire. The principal looked at us with a disbelief about how the child of this petty poor trader will afford the school fees of St. Joseph College. As providence will have it my school fees was been taken care of by elder brother, first born of the house, first born actually do play the role of deputy parent in most African society, they deserve some accolades. The principal doesn’t know about this hence her logical perception. However, I compared the school fees of UFTC JK and that of St. Joseph College, the former is slightly higher than that of the latter. So, I’ve got enough rational basis to switch. I believe that St. Joseph College has a more elitist and standard packaging than UFTC JK. So, there could be a peaceful harmonious coexistence among the students there. Interestingly, going by the event at Dowen College which is an elitist school as well, it is very likely that my untested hypothesis for a preference for St. Joseph College could just be wrong because the human nature is usually divided between the quest for evil and good. The aspect that occupies a human mind is not a function of socio-economic background but rather the sense of morality and humanity we allow to dwell in our minds. As we couldn’t come to terms with the principal of St. Joseph College, I was still unrelenting in my quest and I was so rebuked for it. The principal being a Yoruba woman as well, one would have expected that I have more chances in getting her help, but I realized that the need to help me does not connect with her mental vibration at that point in time.

I was on a child from a well impoverished family, my aim was simply to focus on ways to excel to enable me change the narrative of my background and circumstance. As we got back home & feeling dejected, I intelligently told my mother that since we couldn’t get the principal’s help for admission into St. Joseph, the principal being her trading customer and friend whose husband is a Director at National Veterinary Research Institute (NVRI, Vom), who had three children, two of whom were abroad, and the last child is schooling at St. Joseph College at that time, meanwhile NVRI has a secondary school where staff members freely have their children school there. So, in my evaluation the principal and her husband had none of their children schooled at NVRI Secondary School. In a nutshell, I put pressure on my mother that she must have to tell her friend to get me into NVRI Secondary School so as to benefits from the slot of the husband who is a Director at NVRI. My mother could not fathom how I conjure this formular, I was confronted with serious rebuttal for being adamantly stubborn. I do not want to return to that boarding school, that I know. My mother response with my intelligent argument was that I should stop “Lawyering her” “ma lawyer me so ti gbo, Benjyyy….fitina re ti po ju faaa…”. She was not willing to concede to my request. It was a heat at home regarding the reality of my desire.

My will was considered that it cannot supersede, my desire got disappointed. After the back and forth, I had to accept my fate to return back to UFTC JK and face my fear. Just like Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk to Freedom, it was a gloomy journey travelling through a most ancient rural road to school. A place my heart vehemently disapproved. I was not a deviant child, I accepted the fate to return back. I resumed very late that term, I was reluctant and sluggish to return, my enthusiasm for schooling so much diminished and varnished. I had to sum up courage and imbibe some boarding school coping and adoptative strategies.

Firstly, as I returned back to the school I dreaded, I had to make sure I stubbornly leave the housing hostel I was fixed, from my records and analysis, there are more wicked and hostile senior students there, I went to another house to join a room of a set mate of mine, in that housing hostel there are more godly and friendly seniors there. There my hope began to find expression. Interestingly it was there I experimented the eating of dog meat called “Agabu” in local parlance. It was one those boarding school life adventures. Dog meat were extremely cheap there. Some students derive great satisfaction from the meat.

Secondly, I realized the need to be close to a senior student colleague in the school as a school father sort of arrangements, who helps as a shield in times of hostilities.
Thirdly, I learnt how to keep my provisions in a staff of the school’s house for safe keeping, so as to keep it away from predators and devourers.

Fourthly, I learnt how to be stealthy and reduce visibility around the vicinity where senior students are stationed. This ensures a junior student escaping bullying so significantly. In this bid, one would see junior students spending most of their day on the hills, bush and streams around the school, also including staff houses and classrooms. It gets to the extent of missing the school kitchen’s meals and rely on buying meal away from the one provided by the school or eating from personal provision just to see to dodging the dining hall. This is because the hall during serving of meal is considered the most conducive place where these senior bullies come to harness their victims for bully. Some junior students who have the resources usually do sacrifice eating the school’s meal to escape the snare of these senior bullies. I also explore all these options in order to have more tranquil experience in the boarding school.

These adoptive strategies enabled me to cope and start to gain my balance and there was a drastic noticeable change in my aura, I changed from that timid, fearful, frustrated and confused student to a cheerful, jovial, courageous, brilliant and intelligent student. Right then my academic performance began to improve from assignments to tests I began to do well. One particular occasion I had the highest score in a biology test in the entire set and our NYSC Biology teacher, our dear Mr. Akeem, mentioned and honoured me for that feat, so it also chronicled to our NYSC English teacher, Aunty Dupe who commended my proficiency in use of English. It snowballed to our Geography and Economics teacher who objectively talked about my academic improvement. This minor gesture went a long way to boost my self-esteem and my dignity improved so well in the school from that term. It was so remarkable because a gloomy unknown student just bloomed to admiration from nowhere. Though, I still bore the disappointment of missing out in Science Class, but I decided to let go and move on.

After I emerged in the class roll of honour for academic performance in 3rd term, SS1. When we resumed first term in SS2, this set of bullies still make sure they hunted for me. One particular occasion they told me that since I am this brilliant to the extent of making honours roll their business association of bullying with me has no devastating effect on me, as I could still stand tall in getting my academic footing, so they will surely wish to continue this business with me because I am their jolly good customer. I was dumbfounded and speechless. I could only struggle to put a grin on my face to endure this evil business and not to further endanger myself with their wrath and anger if I should escalate the matter.

Now, we are in SS2, the senior cadre, gearing up to have our sovereignty and power. In SS2, our set will get to receive the baton of prefects’ leadership and power in controlling the entire student’s affairs. The tradition was that once a senior class hands over prefect leadership to the preceding class the power to command authority on any junior student will end there. Any compliance to the exercise of power by the set of the senior class that handed over will be majorly on goodwill and no longer by legitimacy and authority.

Hence the story of the climax of my epic ordeal.

That fateful day I was on my way to go buy lunch at the Staff’s house who had a food selling canteen. I missed the school’s lunch that day. On getting to the borehole by the road side I saw Paul the terror, who was the ringleader of the bullying syndicate, they were highly dreaded. I suffered so much bullying from this gang. Paul the terror accused me that I have grown wings and I saw him with a bucket of water and I wanted to pass by without taking the bucket of water from him and carry to his hostel. He said I did this because handing over of power to our set will be in two weeks’ time. So, my action is boastful & disrespectful. Without looking sorrowfully remorseful as if I actually committed any serious offence in the real sense of it, to allow the sleeping dog to lay, I picked the bucket of water from him and took it to his hostel.

To my shocking astonishment that scenario was not over. The traditional ritual must happen. The tradition there was that before a senior set handover power baton to the next set, they must cut the tails of the junior sets behind them with every means of harsh punishment to satisfy an evil ego. It is usually a festival of unimaginable punishments, beatings and dehumanization.

Continuation: https://jobenaventures.com/EmergingTechs/2021/12/09/boarding-school-a-culture-of-evil-bullying-wickedness-a-relaying-of-vengeance/



The story of my life is so much about creative sustenance, like most other African Children, born in abject poverty during General Ibrahim Gbadomosi Babangida regime’s traumatizing Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), an African Child is thus programmed for struggles and vulnerabilities, we must use our collective humanity to rekindle the hope of an African Child.

As a young man who is facing the storm and the vicissitudes of life, yet keeping a smile on the face with the hope of a better tomorrow. Please, kindly endeavour to donate a milk of human kindness, a widow’s mite will go a long way in igniting hope in humanity.

We can use our collective light to drive away darkness in our world.

Account name: Benjamin Oyerinde
Bank name: Guarantee Trust Bank
Account Number: 0013008304

Yours Sincerely,
Oyerinde Benjamin Joben