Hi, thanks to everyone that have wanted, in one way or the other, waited for the story. Since some have the first three chapters, I think we can enjoy it from there.

Meanwhile, please as you read, I need you to help me out with places that don't resonate with you in one or the other.

You'll enjoy it.


Cc
anonymousbim

Chapter 1
Peeping Toms

Boys also gossip. The most popular discussions usually centred on their wild escapades and weird fantasies. The most intriguing stories came from the students in the boarding house. Bidemi Adeoti found their stories exciting and had always wanted to experience at least one of these escapades first-hand.
Many times, he would cry to his mother to allow him relocate to the boarding house in his school, Richmond Academy, knowing full well that she had a soft spot for him and so, could wield her as he pleased. He would hold her arm and repeat it to her like a broken record. His cries usually got to his mother, who would then start to reason with him, but would eventually back off whenever his father growled, 'in this 21st century? Impossible!'
And if one was to properly evaluate his obsessive desire, they would realize that Bidemi's house was just four streets away from the school; there was really no need to become a boarding student. However, even though his father wanted him around all the time, he couldn’t afford to regularly pick him up from school with his car.
The previous day – a rainy day, his friends bantered about the desires of the boarder boys to go to the river behind the school to stare at bathing girls – senior and older ones especially – in the evening. They claimed that watching these senior girls made them feel excited. If one was to look at it from a cultural or religious perspective, no one had told Bidemi that what those boys were doing was wrong. And if none of those people mentioned it, he saw no reason to avoid treading the same path. In fact, he assumed that these acts were things every man should secretly learn. There was no way he would be an exception.
'It's what all the boys do', Ikendu Benson, one of the toughest among them, said one day. Bidemi nodded in agreement, and hatched a great plan on how to stare at some of the girls in his class. Ikendu was known for his notoriety but still had a lot of girls, senior and junior students alike, thronging to be his friend. Many of them called him names, but after a little teasing and jokes from his witty brain, they began to talk to him with reckless abandon and wouldn't object whenever he touched them inappropriately.
That Monday, October 4th, 2004, Bidemi was really excited as he showed his classmates the hand mirror he stole from his mother's wardrobe. They were excited and really hailed his bravery.
‘That's how to be a man. You have to see things that others haven't seen before they do’, Ikendu whispered to him as they marched into the class from the assembly. Ikendu loved repeating the stories he heard from his father about how men have been pushed to rape women because the women didn’t know how to ‘properly’ talk to a man. ‘You have to be wise. Watch us! Learn!' Eagerly, Bidemi ensured he remained among the boys that knew the ins and outs of such matters. They even requested for some minutes with his mirror, giving him an opportunity to make some money. To that effect, he made the boys pay 5Naira each for 15 minutes.
As the day went by, different teachers turned towards the boys to know the root of the disturbance that came from them since many of them continually murmured in a bid to get a look at what their mates were seeing. However, the boys were quick and sharp enough to hide the mirror. The only thing the teachers could do was to threaten them and then go back to whatever they were doing. Even when their teacher made them read Peace by Pieces by Sola Owonibi, it was evident that the boys' minds were at different locations.
'If I hear any noise from you again, I will skin you alive,' their Accounts teacher, Mrs Coker, shouted as she turned towards them. Nothing made Bidemi more excited than staring at his female teachers through the mirror. Some of the boys told him about the way they always wanted to simply stare at their teachers, especially their fat bursar, Mrs. Tochukwu. They told him of the pleasures their senior students derived from doing all these.
'Give it to me,' Bidemi whispered and stretched his hand. The girls around glanced at them and looked away indifferently. That was one thing he hated about girls. They were always ready to make fun at the boys, mock, swear at, and gossip about them, but none of them knew how to sit properly in the class. Their legs, always, were as wide-open as their mouths. Unknown to them, they made it quite easy for the boys with the mirror to stare at their inner thighs this way.
'Later… Later!’ Ifeoluwa Adeoba shouted, frustrated, as Ikendu tried to wrestle the mirror from his hand. One of Bidemi's closest friends, Usman Oluseye, saw their misbehaviours and decided to leave the class before their teacher would catch them. As it was with most of their teachers, all the boys would face the wrath of their actions. Since it was seen as ‘girly’ to report the offenders, he preferred to be out of the class when it happened instead of reporting.
Usman repeated Jss1 class thrice and always tried to avoid trouble, even though the teachers hardly agreed that he had truly repented. But since he became friends with Bidemi, he finally got promoted in flying colours because of the help he got from him. To be frank, Bidemi helped him with many things. One of such instances was how Bidemi saved his own daily feeding allowance to help to pay Usman's school fees. In fact, he even had to lie to his parents that he needed money for some books. But even though his intention was good, Karma acted fast – and it caught up with Bidemi.
When his father discovered his lie, he flogged him till he couldn't sit in class the next day. As if to supplement his pain, his teachers also whipped him when they caught wind of his antics; yet, he was relentless in helping Usman. Seeing this, Bidemi's mother commended his effort and supported his noble cause.
Since then, Usman’s love for Bidemi had deepened, but what Bidemi was doing was wrong, and he wouldn't be party to it. He got up and told Mrs. Coker that he wanted to use the toilet. A few minutes after he left, she indeed got angry and turned towards the class, just as Bidemi finally pocketed the mirror and focused on writing his note.
'You… You… You … And that tall black devil, stand up. Yes, you, Ikendu', She shouted and pointed at different boys as if a blazing fire was in her eyes. 'You're the scapegoat. I need a cane'. Bidemi looked up and held his breath with expectations that she would call him.
'Aunty, we were not the only ones…’ Ikendu started in defence.
'Shut your nasty mouth. I will use you as the scapegoat in my class. Cane!'
Mrs. Coker spun her slim body from side to side, looking from one person to another, making her look like a toy in a cloth. After what seemed like forever, she turned to look at Bidemi, and her eyes rested on his. 'Get up, Adeoti. You're the only sane one in my class. Get me a very strong cane that I will use to balance the brains of these boys'.
Bidemi sighed with relief and hobbled out of the class. The last thing he needed at that time was for anyone to see the mirror in his pocket. Just as he came out of the staffroom with the cane, he saw their bursar, Mrs. Tochukwu, hurrying off towards the toilet.
Her curvy body had been the dream of boys, and she seemed to know that because she was always reminding the senior boys about how ‘they were all dogs’.
Immediately he saw her running to the toilet, Bidemi did something he would forever regret. Not minding that Mrs. Coker awaited his return, he patted his pocket to feel the mirror, and then he ran off, following the curvy teacher, but to the back of the toilet, the window. The marks from the students' brooms were still glaring on the school ground. It was a norm for students to sweep the school compound, regardless of whether it was a government owned or private school.
If Bidemi got the chance to stare at the bursar in the toilet, he would have an edge over the other boys, many of whom had always craved the opportunity. He would be way ahead of them, and probably at their centre, giving them details of what he saw.
Not ready to waste another moment, Bidemi removed his mirror and strained to see her well. Suddenly, someone tugged his blue well-ironed short. His heart skipped beats as he turned towards the person.
'Ahan,' Usman murmured and rolled his eyes.
'Who is that?' Mrs. Tochukwu, the Bursar, shouted from the toilet.
Bidemi froze. Usman clamped his hand on Bidemi's mouth and spun his fingers as if they were wheels.
'Run,' Usman whispered. 'She can't see well without her glasses.'
Bidemi didn't wait to answer Usman as he sped off and Usman was soon on his tail. Usman was right: Mrs. Tochukwu had a problem with her sight and could barely see things from afar.
They rushed into the class, and Mrs. Coker stared at them as if she was aware of their mischievousness.
'I hope you're okay?' She asked sarcastically, as Bidemi gave her the cane. As she flogged the boys, Bidemi's mind and eyes kept dashing to the door. His concentration was totally focused on whatever was being said on the other end of the school where he just fled from.
Immediately Mrs. Coker finished flogging the boys, the timekeeper rang the bell for a change of lesson. She hissed in annoyance, lashed the head of one of the boys she punished with her cane, and then picked up her books, and left the class. In a heartbeat, the class became rowdy because the girls flew about mocking the just punished boys. Usman hopped over an empty seat and leaned against Bidemi.
'Give me the mirror,' he whispered. With shaky hands, Bidemi stretched it out to him. He snatched the mirror and hurried off to his own bag.
Bidemi leaned over and whispered when Usman returned, 'What will happen if she catches me'?.
'She won't. If she asks, you just tell her it was me. They know me as the bad boy. They'll just flog me', Usman shrugged. Bidemi sat uprightly and opened his book frantically, dotting the blank pages with his pen as his mind wandered off. Heavy dark clouds hung over the school and the sky rumbled, sending cold breeze through his pores. When they were in Jss1, he had once taken the blame for Usman and was actually forgiven. But he never expected it from Usman.
'Remember that tree at the back of our house?' Usman said to him, 'That's how you have been behaving. You need to stay focused'. He was referring to a conversation they had earlier where he told him how a looming tree in his compound has been unsteadily tilting towards the ground and would soon fall.
Bidemi nodded and looked about as he couldn't get himself to write any longer. Noticing Usman’s shorts, he pointed and said ‘Usman, your shorts.' Usman glanced at it and zipped up. Usman always forgot to zip up.

Chapter 2
The Assembly of Doom

‘Where is the foolish boy?' Mrs. Ajanaku roared as she forced her way into the class, not minding that she had pushed one of the short girls in the class. 'Bidemi Adeoti!'
Bidemi's heart bubbled with fear. The eyes of the huge, fierce Mrs. Ajanaku told him all he needed to know. She took flogging as a hobby and used the strokes of the cane to talk, explain, show, and describe things to students, especially the ones that find it difficult to understand quickly.
‘Bidemi!’ she yelled, ‘Come out here. Come here’.
Knowing that he had been caught, Bidemi was determined to take any punishment meted out to him in good faith.
‘You,' she shouted again, making Bidemi's bones yearn to scamper out of her dreadful glare. The bursar, Mrs. Tochukwu, hobbled after her into the class. Her shaking body displayed the anger welling within her. Bidemi's wished the ground would just swallow him up.
'Where is the glass?' Mrs. Ajanaku yelled.
'Yes. The mirror', Mrs. Tochukwu corrected.
'It's …'
Mrs Ajanaku drew near him and dealt him a stinging slap. He yelled and tried to back off, but her steel grip held him in place. 'Overturn your pockets.'
Quickly, he did, but nothing fell out. His eyes darted to Usman, who shook his head slightly.
‘Look in his bag!' Mrs. Tochukwu shrieked. Her face was pale as if she saw a wraith some moments before.
‘Bring your bag here,' Mrs Ajanaku instructed.
Immediately, Bidemi's heart lurched with happiness since the mirror was with Usman and not in his bag.
‘You’, she glanced at Usman, ‘Bring his bag to me.’
Usman carried his friend’s bag to her. Mrs. Ajanaku snatched it out of his hand and opened it immediately.
‘Bu… Bu…' Bidemi protested as he looked from Mrs Ajanaku to Usman, whose face started distorting into remorse.
‘But’ what? Every day has been for the thief; today is for the owner – Me. If you have not walked in the vicinity of falsehood, no one would falsely accuse you, and lucky for me, you are the culprit', Mrs Ajanaku cried, ‘You… Is this not the mirror? Look, Mrs. Tochukwu.'
The bursar stared at the mirror, 'err…'
‘Aunty…' Someone shouted, trying to get Mrs. Ajanaku’s attention.
‘Shut up,' she exclaimed, turning like a big bull, 'Birds of a feather. Isn’t that how you all behave? He has been chosen as an example, and he would be duly punished… So, first things first…'
However, the voices of the students overshadowed hers, infuriating her.
‘What is it?’ She snapped, turning as if with difficulty to face the students, who refused to be silenced.
‘That is Usman's bag,’ someone volunteered to tell her.
‘Usman?’ The two teachers said in unison.
Mrs. Ajanaku faced Usman, eying him angrily. ‘Did you use the mirror?'
Usman nodded stiffly.
Reluctantly she let go of Bidemi, fixing her gaze on Usman. ‘Follow me immediately!’, she barked as she turned towards the door. Mrs. Tochukwu followed her, and if she had a tail, she would have been wagging it eagerly by the looks of how she rushed after her. Bidemi started after the trio, but as they were nearing the door to the principal's office, Mrs. Ajanaku turned and glared coldly at him.
‘Yes...? Yes...? What do you want?' Mrs. Ajanaku asked.
Bidemi withdrew and returned to his class, dejected that he had just caused trouble for his friend who was only trying to help. Repeatedly, he glanced towards the Principal's office, which was almost opposite their class. Lucky for his class, their next class was Yoruba language, and Mrs. Ajanaku was the teacher in charge, but being on her current mission she definitely would miss it.
Most of the girls expressed their hatred for Usman, and they felt Usman shouldn't have allowed the teachers pick on Bidemi in the first place. The boys gathered round Bidemi and asked him for details. He tried to explain to them to the best of his knowledge but didn't really give them the vivid description they expected.
'So you saw her…?' Ikendu whispered and gestured wildly towards his own chest. Bidemi glanced at the boys and could see the amused eagerness on their faces. He nodded. Although he didn't see what they expected him to see, he had to pretend that he did, just so he could have an edge over them. The guys yelled excitedly. They felt Bidemi was a hero while Usman was a lifesaver.
Just then, the principal marched out of his office, taking long, angry strides towards the class. Today, he wasn't putting his hand in his pocket like he was fond of. He wasn't strolling in the corridor, or teasing the students like he usually did. This time, he was visibly angry and held a long cane with his right hand while he pulled Usman along, holding the boy’s shirt with his left.
‘Ring the bell,' he yelled as if a megaphone was attached to his mouth, ‘Tell the timekeeper to ring the bell for me. Everybody get to the assembly ground now!’
The students knew that only two things could make them come out of their class at that time- a piece of excellent news for the students (days like the one where the principal was forced to ask the students to go back home because of a riot happening within the school's area). The other reason, which seemed prominent, was when someone was caught and would be paraded as a scapegoat.
The Jss2 students rushed out of their class first. Many of them looked at their friends in various classes, telling them with their eyes that they had full details of the situation, one better than what the principal was about to say to them.
‘Stand in line, form straight lines!' the principal bellowed.
'Level up!' One of the teachers yelled. The tension in the air made the students fall in line without a single complaint.
‘Do you see this boy?' He said, pushing Usman forward.
Bidemi knew he should be the one there and not Usman. He wished he could change the moment to another, or for a terrible event to happen – earthquake, riots, anything, or that Usman could just fall down in pain, and maybe even faint.
‘He has done the unheard of,' the Principal continued, twitching his cane as Usman tried to balance himself on the podium.
‘This boy you are looking at, Usman Waheed Oluseye is a pervert and believed that the school authority would never discover him.' The redness of his anger reflected in his eyes and frowning face. 'Many of you would know him. He has repeatedly repeated a class…'
'And his father was arrested for robbery,' Mrs Ajanaku chipped in, but kept mute when the Principal gave her a cold, hard glare. The Principal turned towards the students.
‘I need four hefty boys up here,' the Principal said. Then turning to Usman, said, ‘if we do not punish you now, there would be no use in your parents sending you to school. You are a disgrace to your mother, she works hard as a petty trader, but this is how you show your gratitude to her?!'
The principal spun around, expecting the boys to be on the podium, but none of them was there. He was infuriated. He stormed to the lines of the senior boys and flogged them with his cane, one stroke per person.
‘When I give instructions, I expect them to be carried out right away. Four. Hefty. Boys. Out there. Now!’ He puffed, short of breath.
About six male students hurried out, and then two of them returned to their lines.
Climbing back on the podium, the principal continued, tapping Usman's head lightly with his cane. ‘This boy had had the effrontery to take a peek at his teacher while she was in the toilet’. 'I don't mind that Fortune City’s education laws forbid flogging students, but this is Nigeria, and we will teach you in the way of our culture. Ti e ma ba e o. _____'.
Many of the students shouted, ‘Ah.’ The senior boys lifted Usman, stretching him out with his back facing the Principal and then he began to flog him. The boy only winced, moaned and groaned but didn't shed any tears.
Although the principal didn't tell the students the number of strokes he would give Usman, he knew that with the amount of force he used to beat the boy, he ought to have cried, the fact that he didn’t infuriated him, so he flogged him harder; yet, Usman didn't cry.
‘Foolish boys, they are so used to beating that they no longer feel pain,' the principal muttered in annoyance when he got to the twentieth stroke, which still met Usman tearless as if he was simply being bitten by a mosquito. There were no tears in his eyes, no fear in his demeanour, and no despair whatsoever. His reaction enraged the principal even further.
‘Sir, let me help you’, Mr Alani offered.
'Yes Sir, before the rain begins, Mrs. Ajanaku added.
A grave hush dropped among the students, even among the stubborn ones. The air suddenly began to play soft music in Bidemi's ears; the voice of birds chirping filled the air, and students shuffled their feet on the floor as they waited on the Principal's reply. Despite the bright day, Bidemi felt cold.
Mr Alani was a very famous teacher. His stroke of cane was named ‘eru,' which means ‘load’. He was nicknamed ‘iberu' which translates to ‘the father of fear’ in Ijebu dialect of the Yoruba Language.
Bidemi's throat went dry as he watched the Principal stand for some seconds to decide whether he wanted to release the cane to Mr Alani or not. Everyone in the school always compared the Principal to the judge in Ola Rotimi’s The Incorruptible Judge.
Mr Alani wasn't known for regular flogging like other teachers in the school. He flogged students as if he was sipping the pain of the student like juice, strengthening himself with it and enjoying the student's sorrow. He flogged the student one sure stroke at a time and allowed them cry over each hit, savour it and rub the hurting flesh well before he continued the other strokes. And one terrible habit he had was that he rarely gave less than five strokes of the cane for minor offences and he wouldn't give anything less than ten strokes for serious offences such as what Usman had just done. He flogged passionately – one could clearly see the joy, happiness, delight in his eyes. The students kept staring at the Principal as if he was their only hope.

Chapter 3
The Chase

‘No, I will continue,' the Principal replied angrily. He turned to Usman who looked relieved and now had a glint of happiness playing on his lips.
Facing Usman squarely, the Principal brought down the cane on Usman's buttocks. Usman bared and clenched his teeth in pain, wincing. The rod came down again, tearing Usman's shorts; yet, he still did not cry. The Principal switched to his back, groaning with each lash, but no tear dropped from Usman’s eyes. After the thirty-first stroke, the principal shook his head in frustration.
‘Put him down,' the tired principal instructed. With heavy breaths, he turned to the assembly.
Usman crumbled to the floor the moment the senior boys released him. And, perhaps, it was the way he crumbled or reasons known to him alone [which called for amusement], that made one of the senior boys smile to the chagrin of the principal.
‘You, impertinent fool!' the principal thundered and stomped towards the boy, making the others scamper out of reach. In quick succession, seven strokes had laced the boy's body. 'You dare laugh?! You are laughing?! It's idiots like you that teach these young boys. You are all corrupt, and I would make sure I fish out each of you. Every single one of you. Not a single brat will remain without tasting my wrath. Idiots! This school, along with her students, both day and boarding, is a positive example to other schools out there and I will make sure that it forever remains so.'
He glanced around like a wounded lion. The flogged student crouched nearby, nursing his pain.
'That's better. You, Usman, will go home now and call your mother. The two of you must meet me in the office today. I will discuss your suspension with her', the Principal said. 'Assembly dismissed'.
The whole school erupted with noise as students trudged to their classes, discussing the events like a newly watched movie. Dark clouds gathered in the sky. A light but cold breeze swept the atmosphere.
Usman stood on the assembly platform while the others left him for their classes. As soon as the coast was clear, Bidemi snuck up to Usman.
‘Go home,' Mrs. Ajanaku shouted at Usman, while she batted a speck of dust off her body. 'Even if it rains fire, and it surely will, you still must go home. Don't contaminate this area with your perversion'.
Mrs. Ajanaku eyed him maliciously and went back to the staffroom, stomping the grass on her path in her rage. Because of his huge physique, many teachers loved to show their authority.
‘Did you do it?' A sweet tiny voice asked. Bidemi and Usman looked back to see a slim, tall, dark girl, in a well-ironed uniform. Her hair was full, long, black, and plaited in an all-back hairstyle like all the other girls in the school. It was usual for all the girls in the school to weave their hair in the same style because that was the school's rule. They believed it portrayed uniformity. The girl smelt like flowers. Her name was Gladys Bolawole, a Jss3 student, who loved their company.
‘He did not -', Bidemi started.
‘Yes...I did it. I did it Gladys, but I thought they would only flog me. Didn’t know it would involve suspension', Usman said cutting in.
The sky became darker. A cold shadow rested on the grasses of the field, increasing the tension and coldness in the air, blocking the ray of the sun from touching the earth.
Gladys stared at Usman in disbelief. She stood transfixed as if she hoped he would retract his words and change his narrative.
'They can't just suspend you. It's not proper. They…' She stopped as her eyes roamed towards the staffroom. Bidemi glanced in the same direction wondering why she had paused.
‘Mrs. Ajanaku!’ they both chorused and Gladys took off, running to her class.
Bidemi muttered, 'She’s coming.'
Usman understood Bidemi's fear. He swiftly ran to the class, picked up his bag that was lying on the ground, and ran out of the noisy class, then into the windy field that led to the gate. Bidemi stood at the door to his class. His heartbeat increased. Tears welled up in his eyes in realization of what he had just caused.
'We have a big plan after school on Friday', Ikendu whispered to him later in the day.
'I can't come. How will I even get inside the school?' Bidemi asked as he turned to continue his Maths classwork.
'The senior boys and some of us have a secret entrance in and out of the school. I'll show you after school'.
'I can't. I won’t. It's bad'.
'You will miss out. All those senior girls would be bathing at the river in the evening'.
Bidemi's eyes shone. That was the desire of every boy in the school. No one missed such a grand opportunity, and he didn’t plan on being the first.

I am enjoying this story Divepen is there a way l can get the PDF l don't want to use Okadabooks

Deleman234:
I am enjoying this story Divepen is there a way l can get the PDF l don't want to use Okadabooks

Send your WhatsApp number through Pm

Chapter 4
A Big Blow

The moment Usman left the school gate, out of the reach of Mrs Ajanaku and the accusing eyes of his classmates, the rain began. The fierce wind blew the rain towards him as if Mrs. Ajanaku had transformed into the rain with the sole intent of pursuing him far away from the school.
He sprinted towards home. The drops of rain hit him like grains of sand, making him grit his jaw. Despite his speed, his uniform was soaked when he took cover in an empty stall.
How would I tell Maami? He wondered. He wrapped his arms around his body to stop himself from shaking, especially as the wind blew harshly towards his direction.
The rain refused to subside. At that point, his fear aggravated. The day was spiralling on. What would happen if his mother refused to go to meet the Principal that day? Would he ever get the chance to return to school? Although he had a rich uncle, his mother refused to accept any help from him. She claimed his money was diabolical. Moreover, she always wanted him to avoid his philandering wife. According to his mother, the woman was in her fifth her marriage and had countlessly been accused of playing questionably close with young boys.
Sensing that the rain might continue in that manner, Usman decided to enter it. The long race through the rain was killing, but he survived. It was better to face his mother's wrath than to wait out the rain.
When he got to his mother's stall, she wasn't there. So, he entered the house expecting to see his mother, stooped in a corner, covered with her wrapper, trying to avoid the cold and the wind.
‘Maami…' Usman called out gently, but she wasn't there.
‘Maami…' He called again as he looked in the rooms he thought she should be in, but he couldn't find her anywhere.
‘Maami,' he called. A tint of worry edged into his voice. Quickly, he returned outside to check if she was there. She must have gone out to get something. The rain had probably delayed her. So, he sat down to wait for her.
However, he got restless. His mother would never leave the stall without moving some of her things inside. Even, the stall was open, and that pointed to the fact that she must have gone to the backyard. Usman rose and hurried to the back of the house.
There, he met a baffling sight. The tree behind their house had finally fallen. Clothes which were hung on it were scattered on the ground. Then he saw her – his mother. She was under the fallen tree, lifeless.
‘Maami?!!’ He wailed as he rushed towards her and tugged at the tree, yelling. Nothing budged. His mind went haywire as he remembered how his father was set ablaze after a market woman falsely accused him of stealing. Now, he had just lost his mother to the rain.
After several failed attempts at pulling her out, he fell back in defeat and rolled on the bare muddy ground with abandon, crying with fervour. His life was becoming shattered at such a tender age. He wailed. He pushed the tree again to no avail. Then, he scrambled off to the neighbouring houses, crying for help.

Chapter 5
Riverside! Riverside!

It’d been almost a week since Bidemi and Gladys had last seen Usman at school. Bidemi would have gone to check on Usman at home but his Aunt had come from the village to spend some time with her sister, his mother. He sighed as he finally got the opportunity to leave the house that Friday when he got back from school, because she was finally leaving.
He eventually got round to escaping from the house when his mother saw his Aunt off to the car park, from where she herself would go visiting someone else. The journey seemed too far by the second. He wished he could just get to the school at lightning speed like The Flash in his superhero comics. Or that he had supernatural powers like the diviners in Nigerian films. But since he didn't have any of those abilities, he ran as fast as he could through the marshy ground, trying as much as he could to avoid stepping in the muddy areas.
After school had closed earlier that day, Ikendu showed the secret entrance to him, he was awed. Boarding students were the best, he thought. No wonder all the storybooks he had read about schools were usually about students in the boarding house. He wished he had the same opportunity. He too wanted to enjoy what they enjoyed.
'Come... Come…' Ikendu beckoned the moment he sighted him. Hurrying through the hole, they joined the other boys. By the looks of their composure, he knew he had to be quiet. They shook his hands one after the other, trying to be as quiet as they could from their peeping position.
When the girls began to bathe, he wished he could slow time. The boys around him made several hushed sounds as if urging the unsuspecting girls to do more.
'It's time to go', Ikendu said dejectedly as a bell rang in the distance.
'Who are those?' A girl shouted suddenly from behind them.
They spun round to see Gladys. She held herbs and flowers in her hands. Bidemi's heart lurched in fright.
'Run!' Ikendu yelled. The boys all ran for cover. Some of the bathing girls squealed in reaction to the commotion coming from where the boys had fled from. The only place Bidemi knew he could be safe was outside, and that was where he ran off to.
The experience was exciting. He wasn't even afraid that Gladys might have seen him because from outside their hiding place; one could only see the figures of people and not exactly their faces. The joy energized him all the way home. When he got home, his mother wasn't back still. Pangs of hunger plagued him so he went straight to the kitchen. His desire to see those bathing girls had so much fuelled him that he hadn’t been able to eat; food became tasteless in his mouth. Now he needed to eat something fast after neglecting food all day. He knew his father loved to buy sliced bread, and hoped that there was still a little left so he could at least snack on that pending his mother’s return.
After he ate and drank water, the image of the girls came back to haunt him. Suddenly, the realization of what may happen to him the next day made him become afraid. He became feverish.
'What's happening to you?' His mother asked when she returned and met him burning up.
'Nothing,' he groaned.
'Did you eat bread again?' She asked as she checked his temperature. He nodded.
'You really should listen to me whenever I say you should not. You seem allergic to it'.
He nodded and wished it was the reason for his fever that evening.

Chapter 6
Burial and Smiles

That unfortunate Monday, as the heavy rains beat on, Usman and his neighbours lifted his mother's body from under the fallen tree. They took turns lamenting and telling tales of how they had always wanted to get rid of that good-for-nothing tree.
Usman was forced to go to his uncle's house, being the only family member, he knew. Upon getting there, he didn't allow his uncle to begin his barrage of complaints about how he & his mother had deserted him.
‘My mother is dead, sir', He said dejectedly.
'What?! Usman, what are you saying? Your mother is dead, how? When? Usman? Iya Tade, come here o. Come. Come', his uncle shouted giving Usman no chance to speak.
Iya Tade, a slender woman, who spent most of her University education in America, rushed out. ‘What happened? She asked the moment she entered.
‘Usman’s mother is dead.’
Her eyes opened wide in shock as she sank into a cushion. ‘Ahhh… How?! That fine woman'.
His uncle gave her a cold glare. She pouted and focused on Usman with immense pity. Her piteous look suggested that she needed an answer to her question, but Usman wasn't ready to talk.
‘Was she sick? I have always told her to let me know if she needed anything, but she was just too stubborn.' His uncle said, shaking his head, looking up, he asked again: ‘Usman, what happened'?
‘A tree fell on her.'
‘Tree? What tree? Where was she? Where were you?'
Usman was getting angry. He didn't need to be bamboozled with rounds of questioning. Reliving the moment he found his mother, he wheezed. ‘The huge tree behind our house, Sir', he finally managed to say.
Iya Tade stood up and went to him. She sat beside him and gave him a bear hug. His uncle simply stared into space, shaking his head from time to time.
‘Daddy Tade, isn’t it that Araba tree you always talk about?' she asked as she still held him closer to her. She pronounced ‘Araba’ with an English accent. Usman’s uncle remained mute.
She always told Usman that he looked strong, but now he didn't feel so strong in her embrace. He felt like a baby. All he needed was to remain in her arms as he cried his heart out.
‘So where is her body?' His uncle finally asked.
‘Our house. One of my neighbours, the carpenter helped to put her inside the house. I was asked to notify the rest of my family, so we can begin burial plans. I didn’t know where else to go.'
His uncle nodded. Usman wondered whether this was the same uncle his mother refused to associate with. He wasn't as bad as his mother insinuated. His Uncle’s wife pulled his head closer towards herself, still wrapping him in a hug.
'That's alright. Let the boy go', his uncle quietly commanded.
'But he needs…'
'No. He needs nothing. What's your problem? The boy's grieving for crying out loud. This your craving is not… Leave him. Now'.
Usman didn't understand what prompted his uncle’s outbursts, but he knew better than to remain in his Aunt’s arms. He rose and followed his uncle out.
The following day, his uncle graciously paid some gravediggers who helped to prepare a burial pit for his mother’s body. He also brought in some Muslim clerics who prayed over her body. During the programme, the cleric told a remarkable story that Usman knew he would never forget.
The Holy man narrated that in the days of the Second World War, he was recruited into the army and joined them in the fighting. There was a day his team patrolled an area and sighted a large number of the enemy soldiers. So, they had no other choice than to seek cover in a nearby graveyard. However, while hiding, something hummed repeatedly in a grave beside him, and that aroused his curiosity.
After the enemy soldiers left, he expressed his fear to one of the generals, who was also surprised and asked that the thing in the grave be exhumed immediately. The soldiers complied.
Upon opening the grave, they found a body wrapped in the chain. They called a cleric who said the man had committed a great sin and that was the reason he was suffering.
Usman was touched greatly by the story. He promised himself to always be kind and to avoid evil at all cost.
After the burial ceremony, Usman's Uncle took him home. His Uncle told him that he would be moving into the house to begin living in with them and also told him that Usman would resume school the next week. He gave Usman 30Naira to go to Barber's shop and get a haircut. Usman knew immediately that he would enjoy his stay there, especially with the weird smile he always saw on his Aunt's face whenever their eyes locked.

Chapter 7
The First Nudge

Bidemi was the first to get to school that Monday. He was sure Usman would come to the school; so, he decided to go to school very early to find out the result of Usman and his mother’s visit to the Principal.
Moreover, the boys needed to discuss the things they saw the previous day. However, when he met the boys, they couldn't talk much before the bell rang. They knew the principal would surely address the issue, and they were prepared to lie.
The boys glanced at one another. Bidemi knew they had been ratted out and wasn't sure he could withstand pain like Usman. Everyone would definitely see his wide mouth that Monday. What they did was definitely wrong. There wasn't any gain in it, but he still went anyway, and now he would face the repercussion.
The boys tried to gather round to discuss their next plan, but they were soon dispersed by the booming voice from afar.
‘Mrs. Ajanaku', they shouted and sprinted to the assembly.
Just as they began to form their assembly lines and the teachers meandered into the assembly, a car drove into the school compound. The sight of this car made many students turn to see whose parent had brought them to school. Usman came out of the vehicle.
‘Usman?' People whispered and mumbled.
Usman was coming in with someone new. He smiled warily at Bidemi and led the man to the principal’s office. Bidemi sighed with relief and glanced at Gladys, who was also smiling.
However, as they were about to round up the assembly, Usman and the man came out of the office and headed for the car. Usman ran to Bidemi and gave him two folded papers.
Bidemi wondered what might have transpired between them in the principal's office. Suddenly, the Proprietress came out of the principal's office. Shocked, he glanced around and saw her car parked at a corner in the school. How come I didn't see it? He wondered. Bidemi expected the principal to follow her, but only Mrs. Ajanaku came out and no one else.
Surprised, Bidemi glanced about and could see the surprise on various faces. The chubby, fair proprietress climbed the podium.
‘Good morning, students,' she said in a sing-song way.
‘Good morning, ma.'
‘Without much ado, I have a very important announcement to make. I would like to inform you all, that your former principal, Mr. Badmus, has been transferred to the other branch of the school, and your new principal is Mrs. Ajanaku.'
Just as Bidemi expected, no one clapped; instead, they all stared in amazement.
The silence must have made her angry because after she gave a little speech, she turned to the Jss3 Class.
'Gladys Bolawole, come out here!'
The fear on Gladys' face was contagious as she walked up to the podium like a jellyfish.
'Point to the boys you told me were staring at girls…' Mrs Ajanaku said to Gladys and turned to the Proprietress. 'Ma…. You would not believe it. These boys went to the female hostel to peep at them bathing; even after we just flogged one of them last week'.
The proprietress shook her head. 'Boys? They are dogs. Flog the devil out of their hardening minds'.
'I said you should point to them, Gladys. And you, head girl, get me a good cane', Mrs. Ajanaku said to the head girl, who seemed too happy to do her bidding.
'I only saw one of them. He was in Jss2. They were many', Gladys said. She looked about eagerly.
'Then, point to them,' Mrs Ajanaku shouted.
'They were many.'
'Flog them all,' the Proprietress interfered. The boys were evidently afraid.
'You heard her. Jss2 boys, all of you, come out. We kill the Iroko tree by killing its first leaf. Come out here. Four strokes for each of you'.
Bidemi sighed. At least, he wouldn't be singled out. During Mr Alani's class, while many of the boys were nursing their pain, Mr Alani used the opportunity to preach them to be careful of the way they act around women and girls.
'Women always get away with everything. Don't try to win them', Mr Alani said as he turned to write his subject on the board.

Chapter 8
First Awry Taste

Usman was excited when his uncle drove him back home. Mrs. Ajanaku insisted he spent two weeks at home to understand the gravity of what he had done. To this, his uncle agreed and scolded him all the way home. He complained that he didn't know what would happen to the coming generation if they kept up this act.
Upon getting home, Iya Tade was waiting for him. His uncle explained what happened to her. She was kind to him, and he loved her company. She touched him affectionately and played with his cheek or arm when her husband's attention was elsewhere.
The first ten days he spent at her house felt heavenly. She made life pleasurable for him and his uncle was ready to tutor him on how to be a real man. However, on the eleventh day, which was Friday, the 22nd of October, 2004, Usman met his waterloo.
His uncle hurried out of the house on a journey. After his bath, she brought him a sumptuous meal. He was excited. The time with this new family would surely be enjoyable. He had never spent a day in a house filled with wealth.
As he ate, Iya Tade sat close to him and kept talking and touching him. She was, indeed, kind. When he was done eating, she tried to clear the dishes, but he refused the offer as his parents would have frowned against such. In fact, they would skin him alive if he ever allowed an adult clear up the dishes.
'No, ma. I’ll do it', he insisted after she shook her head for the second time.
'Not with these arms of steel,' she said and smiled. 'You know what? Do it. I will like to see them in action'.
He didn't understand what she meant, but her stare rattled him. People had always said he looked older than his age, but that wasn't his concern. Immediately, he dropped the plates in the sink, she came up to him and grabbed his hands.
'What are you doing?' Usman asked, amused.
'Usman, you're strong. Even at this your young age, you're every woman's desire; especially with your build. What are you? Just 15 years?'
He didn't understand what she meant, neither could he stand the way she was touching him, but the desire to grab her topped the wishes of his heart. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to do such. It felt bad.
'I don't want…' He said and pushed off him. She stumbled to the wall, making him afraid. He had just hurt his aunt. The way she was touching him was absurd. She smiled weirdly.
'I'm sorry,' Usman pleaded.
'Wow. That power. You love it. I know you do', she persuaded and rose. 'This is an opportunity. Boys all over the world want it. Don't be a prude. Come here'.
He felt aroused with the way she squinted her eyes. Despite not understanding what was wrong with him, he knew he had to run off. She came closer.
'Leave me.' He ran off to the room he had been given and locked it.
'I'll tell my uncle when he returns,' Usman yelled as she kept banging the door.
'You better come out and give me what you want. Remember I'm the adult here, and I’m also his wife. My husband would believe anything I say'.
'That's a lie.'
Usman didn't know what to do. His uncle would definitely believe him and talk to his wife. He sat there throughout the day and was only disturbed by the random knock of Iya Tade. When the evening was set on the house, she came knocking again.
'Won't you come out to your dinner?'
'No.'
'If you promise to be a good boy and not tell your uncle, I won't say anything.'
He loved what she was saying, but how would he believe her. She might be lying. Moreover, he couldn't easily take his mind off the story of the corpse in the grave.
'I don't believe you,' he shouted.
'Then, you're pushing yourself into your waterloo. Usman, come out'.
'No.'
'Only God can save you from what would happen to you tonight,' she shouted.
He refused to answer her. She began to play Mr Lecturer by Eedris Abdulkareem. Staying indoors was tiresome, as time went by and the darkness of the night became thicker, Usman wondered if his uncle would return at all.
As the darkest part of the night began to unveil itself, his uncle's car drove into the compound. Almost at the same time, Iya Tade screamed like someone that was being flogged. Usman couldn't stand it any longer. He rushed out.
The little light from the bulb was enough to show him a glimpse of what he was in for. Her blouse was torn.
'Rasheed has brought a demon to the house,' she cried. His uncle ran inside with the same fear as Usman. She was sprawled on the floor. 'I was good to him, but the dog said he didn't like the real food I gave him. He wanted to eat me. He wanted to rape me. My God didn't agree with him'.
'Peju, what happened?' Usman's uncle asked, perplexed.
'Your dog. The one you brought home, tried to rape me'.
'My dog?'
Usman was perplexed as to why she was crying. She was the one that wronged him and should be the one being accused.
'Usman tried to rape me.'
'Usman…' His uncle growled as he turned to him. His eyes were red. 'You devil. You wanted to rape my wife! You want to rape her'.
Without another look at his wife, he pounced on Usman and punched him several times. Usman screamed. The surprise made the punches painful. He couldn't believe his eyes and could only cry for help when his uncle kept railing curses, spits, and blows on him.
'It's not me,' he shouted.
'Don't mind the dog. He will lie against the devil. Ah! God knows that I wanted to care for you as a son. I embraced the idiot. Not knowing he had something else in mind', Iya Tade yelled.
His uncle stopped punching him and stormed into the room. 'I will kill you myself.'
Iya Tade crawled to him. By this time, Usman was panting and could feel the welt of his uncle's punches.
'My two cents. Run for your life. He has gone to take his cutlass. You should have listened to me. I am a woman. I have shown you that I can ruin your life. Run'.
His uncle's growl was enough to tell him she wasn't lying. Without a minute's hesitation, he clambered out of the house into the emptiness of the street. As if planned, NEPA switched off the power in the area. Usman knew all those areas by heart because he sold food provisions through each of them when his mother was still alive. Stumbling through the rough road, he kept running. There was no way he could remain in that street and not be called a rapist.

Jesus. Women ah, obinrin

Divepen1:
Send your WhatsApp number through Pm

Can we use Email ?

queenitee:
Jesus. Women ah, obinrin

Abi

Deleman234:

Can we use Email ?

You'll still need to send me a message through my profile.

Chai some women sha.Happy new month to you guys.

Lovely and interesting story
Pls keep the updates flowing
Weldon sir,good work

rukoyah02:
Chai some women sha.Happy new month to you guys.

Abi... Wish you the same..oo

dawno2008:
Lovely and interesting story Pls keep the updates flowing Weldon sir,good work

Thanks boss

Chapter 9
Stuck

Cold, mosquitoes, and the eerie sound of the harsh wind kept Usman up throughout the night. He had managed to lie down in front of a stall. When he eventually slept off, he was woken by the noise of market women as they flocked into the market. By this time, the sun was up. Cocks kept crowing at various locations. He knew it was time to go.
So, he got up and meandered. He intended to return to their former house. But before he could make any progress in his journey, he saw his uncle's car driving slowly into the market.
Seeing this, Usman ran off towards the road. He looked back, and his uncle saw him. Usman sped into the midst of people struggling to enter commercial buses leaving the area. Luckily, the queue was always disorganized. So, he got his chance to scramble into their midst to cross to the other side.
'Usman!' his uncle yelled. He spun around and saw his uncle looking about with the venom of the previous day still in eyes. Usman hurried off and struggled to enter one of the buses. He ensured he was in the middle of the bus. Different passengers joined him on the bus, making him feel secure.
Usman sat still. The bus was filled to the brim, and he watched the conductor as he shouted, 'Errr... Everybody, listen to me! E gbo mi o. I'm saying my own now. We've not moved far. If you don't have the exact fare, get down now. I don't have any extra money to give you your balance. I no get change o. This weekend na for fun, I no wan trouble'.
No one replied him. He repeated his warning, but no one replied him. After repeating his announcement for the third time, someone hinted that he had a thousand Naira note.
'So if I no talk, you no go talk,' the conductor nagged and shuffled the money in his hands. After confirming that he had enough change to give the passenger, he banged on the body of the green bus and shouted, 'Oga mi, let’s go!'
People became focused on getting comfortable on the bus. The conductor too made some banter with some funny passengers then he stood up and tapped the shoulder of the man sitting beside the driver. 'Bros. Money'.
At that point, Usman remembered he had no money on him. The passenger pointed a five hundred Naira note at him. The conductor opened his mouth in shock.
'What!!! I say no change', he shouted. He ranted about the way he was screaming his head off about having the right bus fare. However, he didn't need to talk much because the next passenger had the exact amount of money.
But if he thought he was safe, he was wrong. Things became awry as he proceeded to collect his fare from other the passengers. People began to point Five Hundred Naira and Two hundred Naira notes at him. In fact, he refused to collect the money from one of the errant passengers, until the person insisted that if he didn't receive that money, he wouldn't drop another dime.
Before long, the conductor and some of the rude and proud passengers exchanged words, railing abuses on one another. Usman swallowed hard as he wondered what to do. He didn't have to wonder for long before the conductor requested for his fare from him. He dipped his hand in his pocket and stared at the conductor like a novice.
'What is wrong with this one? Are you a child in a bottle?' The conductor grumbled.
'Conductor, my change,' someone called up front.
'I'm coming,' he replied and turned to Usman while he straightened the notes he was holding. 'Guy, where my money?' He asked Usman in Pidgin English.
Usman frantically searched his pockets with the hope that something would materialize in his pocket. But it was like one that had the hope of using a sponge to fetch water – a fruitless effort.
'I'll return to you,' the conductor said as he began to distribute people's balance to them. The passengers started complaining. Some complained that he hadn't given them their complete balances; he pouted and told them to hold on. Some returned their change to him, claiming the monies were torn or defaced and demanded that he swapped it for them.
'Is my father working at Central Bank?' He retorted at some of them and turned towards Usman. 'I say this guy where's my money?'
'Ermm....' Usman stuttered.
'Why are you doing like a dummy? You no fit talk?'
Usman shook his head.
The conductor frowned. 'He isn’t even saying anything. Give me money!'
Usman stared for a while. 'I... I can't find my money'.
The woman beside him, whose daughter had been repeatedly throwing bits of the biscuit she was eating in the bus, snickered. Usually, Usman would have been bothered about the snicker, but his focus was on the furious conductor. He had several scars on his face, indicating he had engaged in various fights. Usman didn't want an encounter with him.
'Guy, give me my money.'
'Please, I don't have any money...'
'Are you a staff?'
Usman frowned and shook his head, confused. 'Staff?'
'Police, Solider, MoPol, Peace Corps?'
Usman shook his head.
'You can't even be a staff...' The conductor hissed.
'Ahn ahn! Conduc', a woman said and scoffed; 'You dey see young boy like this and you expect him to be a staff.'
'Ehn. E no concern me. He should pay me... Pay my money o, guy.''
'I don't have any money, please,' Usman pleaded.
Story! Pay my money before I handle you!' the conductor shouted.
Usman glanced at the faces of the different people on the bus. Many of them pretended to be focused on the journey. One of the passengers even stared out of the window as if he was no longer of this world.
'Conductor, please leave him. He's a small child', another passenger said.
'You bought this bus, right?'
'That's rude,' another passenger said.
'That's how they behave,' said the woman that the conductor rudely replied. 'I'm used to their lifestyle.'
Usman sat at the edge of the seat, his hands turning cold with sweat.
‘My boss…’ The conductor called at his partner. 'This guy no get money o.'
The driver, who was downing a bottle of gin, choked and took a few seconds to get back on track amidst passengers call for his head for drinking and driving. Someone even chipped in that he should be careful not to kill himself while they were still on the bus.
'Throw the beggar away,' the driver shouted from the front.
'Leave him,' someone called.
'Will you pay his fare?'
'How much is it...' The person replied nonchalantly. Usman's heart skipped a bit.
'Bring it,' the conductor replied.
'Me...? How much is it that you can't simply let it be', the person replied.
The conductor hissed and poked his head outside the window. 'Oga mi, stop. Let this one that loves debt get out of the bus.' He insulted Usman, calling him a lover of debts.
'Please,' Usman begged pitifully.
You still dey talk? I no wan hear story, abeg give me my money' The conductor said with contempt.
'Please, I don't have money. Please…'
'Is this one drunk? Even me wey take dry gin, I still dey strong. I still dey kampe'.
Usman's eyes dashed to the people on the bus, asking for help.
A woman turned to him, and he felt relieved. 'You too, why did you enter the bus when you know you don't have money?'
'Don't mind him,' another woman said behind him. 'That's how they all do. Dogs… The only thing they know how to do is to…Ah! Instead of him to be in school; look at him, looking like a bird that flew from its mother's nest.'
The driver dropped the bottle of gin and glanced back. 'Taribo, if you are the son of your father, don't collect my money.' The driver threatened the conductor.
'Oga mi… Stop this bus. Let the boy get down'.
The driver parked by the roadside.
'Get down.'
'Driver e jo now,' another woman said. 'He's a small boy.'
'Pay for him then.'
'For God's sake; if I had the money, I'd pay'.
'Me too,' someone said.
'Oga mi… Park well', the conductor hit the side of the bus angrily, repeatedly. ' Oya, come down. Come down'.
'Ah ahn! Conductor, have mercy', someone else shouted. 'What if he's your brother?'
'I think you've hit your head on the floor. If you talk to me again, I'll swear for you'.
‘Ahn ahn, is it up to that?'
Usman climbed down the bus and watched the rickety bus drive off; many of the passengers began to express their views over what would have just happened. The road was devoid of any house on the left and right. The bushes around him scared him. It was better to walk to civilization than to remain there. He couldn’t remain on the road, so he began walking. He couldn’t go back; he was not sure begging his uncle would work. He thought of his evil aunt and what he had done to deserve her actions.
He missed his mother. He looked up at the sky, as if he could see her face among the clouds, but there were just big, grey puffs spanning out into the horizon. The rains were gathering again.

Chapter 10
Maybe Mr. Girl is A Dog

Meanwhile, back at school, things were happening fast. Bidemi and Gladys waited for the return of Usman, but he never came. If he was still in their former house, with his mother, Bidemi might have gone to visit him, but now there was no way he could contact him. At this time, mobile phones were becoming popular but not one that they could easily get a hold of. Only a selected few had access to a mobile device.
The next day, Tuesday, two people came to speak to the girls at the assembly about STD and why they must abstain from boys and sex.
'All that most boys ever want is to have sex with you and leave you. Many of them will transmit sexually transmitted diseases to you and you; any of you that is not ready to keep yourself till marriage. That is why we are here to educate you all, every one of you. Abstain from sex', said one of the facilitators.
Bidemi stared at them.
'Listen carefully, girls. Many of these boys will want to entice you. When you start menstruating, you have a higher chance of becoming pregnant. Boys are dogs. Be careful of them'.
Mrs. Ajanaku signalled to them to conclude, and they did. Then, she clambered up the podium to address them. Her cane dangled in her hand. The little murmuring that came from the assembly ceased. The facilitators of the girls’ talk began to share free sanitary pads and a small pamphlet among the girls.
'Thank you very much. We need to keep educating our girls for better awareness. We need to let them run away from the devilish thing hiding in the trousers of these boys', Mrs. Ajanaku said.
People laughed.
'Shut up your mouths. You are all laughing. These boys are ready to destroy your lives', she shouted. Then, she scanned the crowd as if searching for someone. Her face brightened when her eyes fell on one of the senior boys. The boy was at the back row and had been trying to hide his face.
'Yes, Ire, come out here. You're the scapegoat', she shouted.
Ire shuffled his feet as he walked up to her. Being in SS3, many had noticed that he hadn’t been around for some weeks.
'Move your feet, before I design your body with a cane,' she shouted. He obeyed her and was soon staring at his feet on the podium.
'Do you see this stupid boy? He had been battling STDs for a while now. We didn't know about the case until it was becoming severe. That situation you’re hiding from your father would eventually be solved by him. We had to send him away quickly for professional treatment. He had been treating himself through all these quack chemists. How many times have we told you that self-medication kills? You these boys; many of you have STDs. Girls beware!' she shouted.
The students began to murmur, but after a stern look from her, many of the students stopped talking. Ire returned to his line shamefacedly.
Mrs. Ajanaku continued, 'they want to ruin your life. You're the weaker ones, girls. They just want to use you and dump you.'
Everyone stared at her remorsefully. 'Any question, girls?' she asked.
Many of the girls raised their hands to ask a question, and she did justice to questions. Then, Bidemi raised his hands. A lot of people burst into laughter. Yet, he kept his hand up.
Mrs. Ajanaku looked about and grimaced. 'Well, he does act like a girl.'
A lot of the students laughed it off until she called for order.
'Mr. Girl, ask your question'.
He swallowed. 'What of the boys? How can they… How can they stop sex…?'
Mrs. Ajanaku looked confused. A lot of teachers looked at him as if he had just asked the world’s most ridiculous question.
'What do you mean by “stopping sex”?' Mrs. Ajanaku asked.
'I mean that… If girls are to avoid boys, what can the boys do?'
Mrs. Ajanaku looked about in surprise. 'Please, clap for him. You have just asked the stupidest question in the world'.
People laughed until she brandished her cane in the air.
She fixed her eyes on him. 'Boys cannot stop it. The only thing they can do is to avoid it. They are always ready. They are like… my dog. They are dogs. Dogs can never say it's enough! They don’t know when to quit sleeping around. Assembly dismissed. Sing'.
The students wanted to sing The day is bright as their marching in song, but she shunned them. The day was cloudy. They had to sing Education: Education is my pride instead.'
Bidemi wouldn't let her deter him. The only thing on his mind was how boys also needed to be told what to do to curb sex. During lunch break, he fiddled with his food and didn't see Gladys sitting beside him.
'I like what you did,' she said. He looked at her blankly
‘What did I do?’ he asked and sat up.
‘On the assembly, the question you asked.’
‘Oh, thank you’. He looked about and leaned into her, then told her he planned to return to Mrs. Ajanaku. She needed to hear him out.
'That's a good idea. I will help you prepare', Gladys said.
So, they spent their break hour preparing Bidemi's speech to Mrs. Ajanaku. Some minutes before the hour ended, the two of them went to her office, where he did justice to their speech. At the same time, Mr. Alani wanted to have a meeting with her. Mrs. Ajanaku stared at Bidemi as if he was a broken record.
'I already said this is rubbish. You think we should have boys sex education', she lamented. 'You're dreaming. Get out of my office. I don't want to hear this rubbish from either of you again. Mr. Alani, come in'.
Bidemi wondered why he went in the first place.
'What would you do?' Gladys asked.
'I would tell my friends.'
'Those ones?', Gladys said disgustedly as she bent to pick a wildflower. 'They won't bother to help you. They love it'.
'Maybe…' Bidemi said and walked towards his class.
'Bidemi,' Mr. Alani called.
He looked back to wait for him to catch up. Gladys hurried up to her class.
'I like what you want for the boys. They truly should be taught about sex education…'
'Thank you, sir. That's what I was trying to say…'
'But it's always been like that. Women have always seen men as dogs. It's natural. You can't change it overnight’.
Bidemi nodded. Mr Alani left him, and he walked off. He wasn't sure he knew what he wanted at that time, but he wanted to be different from the other boys. This was the only thing on his mind as he returned home alongside his day-student friends. Suddenly, they saw a cock chasing a hen. The boys stoned the cock until it ran away. There, he agreed with Mr Alani: males were natural predators. Maybe they were indeed dogs.

Chapter 11
Lion's Den

Usman must have spent the whole day walking, but he couldn't stop as he needed to find a way to avoid the major roads; if only he could find his way out of the Fortune City. According to their teachers, he needed a form of a pass at the Customs. The Island didn't allow minors to stray off the city into Nigeria because they wanted to keep a good reputation.
He sat on a stone and watched some boys playing football and wished he could have just a taste of the happiness in their souls. He rested his back against a wall and would have remained there if the wind from the rain hadn’t started.
He rose and looked for a place to hide before the rain started. The boys continued in the field. It was always fun to play ball in the rain showers, but he couldn't join them. Just as he rose to leave, the rain came in a heavy torrent.
He broke into a run but after a while, he couldn't help but resort to walking in the rain. The cold was enough to bring back memories of the past few days, but he kept walking. He preferred being killed by the storm than to remain in the same vicinity as his uncle.
That day, he meandered about and slept in the cold, outside another stall. Luckily for him, the next day was a Sunday. The only thing disturbing him was the pang of hunger in his belly. At that point, he wished he could have gone Mrs. Adeoti's place. She would have interceded on his behalf. Yet, he wouldn't want her to be tainted by his own shame.
Overlooking the shame involved, he took to begging from passers-by. Some of them warded him off while others rendered help to him. The money he garnered served him throughout the day.
But in the evening, the torrent of rain came again. This time, he had no other choice than to shade himself. He must have walked for twenty minutes when he saw an old woman selling roasted plantain, Boli under a little shade. The scent from it on its own could send any man begging for more, but he didn't have any money. There was surely no way he would get the chance to even taste it.
The woman gave him a cold glare that made him shift aside. He tried to use a side of the roof as shade, but the woman started insinuating she didn't want a thief near her stall. But he was adamant. After a while, the torrents of rain became drizzles.
Just then, a car stopped in front of the boli seller. A young woman was in the car. She bought boli. Usman, sensing an opportunity, drew nearer to ask for her help. But before he got to the driver’s side, she drove off. Devastated, he returned to the corner he was standing before.
However, the car turned at the next junction, which led to an untarred road. Maybe she can help me, he thought. There was definitely no way he could let the woman go without asking for help. He hurriedly followed her car and saw it meandering into another street. She drove slowly, as if she was in no haste; he knew he could still meet up with her. By the time she stopped, he caught up with her but was panting.
She had just gotten out of her car and was trying to open her gate when he finally caught up with her. The house was bigger than his Uncle's.
'Good afternoon, ma,' he said shyly.
The lady glanced at him and flashed him a very bright smile. Her teeth mesmerized him for a few seconds.
'Good afternoon, how're you?' She said, and her round eyes were white. She was dressed so simply. Her jeans trouser hugged her body tightly, just like her blouse.
Usman blinked severally as his word clogged in his mouth. He was so busy trying to get food, avoid the rain that he never expected that reaction.
'Please Ma, I'm hungry.'
The lady scanned him and bit her lower lips.
'And drenched. What of your parent? Why not go home? Go home and leave this rain'.
If my parents were alive, would I have come here, Usman thought. He stared at the ground. 'They are dead.'
'Oh,' the lady gasped and hurried to her car. She brought out her wallet and brought out a pair of two hundred notes and gave him.
'Find something to eat and then use the remaining to go to any of your family members.'
'Thank you, Ma,' he said. Usman was so excited that he felt there was no need to tell her that his mother alienated him from other members of her family. He was shaking terribly.
'In fact, come inside. Let's get you warm and out of this rain'.
Thunder and lightning answered them.
Usman stared wide-eyed at her then, at the car. What if she wanted to use him for money ritual? He swallowed hard. The way reports have been reaching everyone about kidnappers, he needed to be careful.
'Enter my car.'
The lady said and entered the car. She pointed into the car. Usman hurriedly did the sign of the cross as he entered the car.
'Relax. I won't eat you'.
He nodded. She drove in.
'Eh,' Usman exclaimed as she drove to a park, where he saw various cars.
'C' mon inside,' she said as hurried towards the house. He followed her like an animal beaten by rain, looking around like a lost puppy.
They entered the house. Usman was as awestruck as he was outside. She gestured for him to follow her. His heart raced in fear. Then, she handed over a wrapper to him to mop himself.
'You're really drenched,' she said.
She went into the house and returned with a shirt and a pair of shorts. Then, she pointed at a room. 'Go to that room and change.'
That was the height of it.
'Thank you Ma. I will change here', Usman replied.
‘What for? And get this place wet? Not possible. Don't worry, you're in safe hands’, she said and brandished a big smile. He took the clothes. His eyes darted everywhere for a possible escape route. But as she promised, nothing happened.
His mouth couldn't stop shaking in rhythm with the pattering beats of the rain on the roof. His mouth suddenly became dry as she placed a big loaf of bread in front of him, and a plate of sardine beside. Some minutes later, she returned with a hot cup of tea and a flask containing hot water.
He shook his head. 'No ma.'
'Really? One, you're telling me I've just wasted my time preparing this for you. Secondly, you told me you were hungry', she replied. He glanced at the food and back at her. She seemed to understand his fear and smiled. 'Oh! You're afraid. It's fine'.
She carried the cup of tea and took a sip. That abated his fear.
'You see. You have nothing to worry about', she said and sat opposite him.
He devoured the food. She asked him simple questions, including his name. Her name was Omoniyi but preferred if he called her Omo. So, he agreed to call her Aunty Omo.
'So where would you go now'? She asked as she returned from the kitchen and slumped into a seat beside him. He choked on the food and coughed.
'Oh! Sorry'. She hurriedly rubbed his back.
'I don't know Ma.'
She bent her head sideways and stared at him from the corner of her eyes. 'What do you mean?'
'My uncle wanted to kill me.'
She smirked. 'That's a gross accusation. Why would your own uncle want to kill you?'
'He wants to use me for money ritual,' he lied before he could stop himself. That was a good cover.
'Money ritual, does that thing exist?'
Usman was astounded that someone didn't believe in money ritual. 'Eh! It does o. I was sleeping when I heard some noise. So, I checked it and saw him and my aunty, his wife, arguing that they should kill me.’
She stared at him for a while in disbelief. 'Are you for real? And you didn't report them to the police or something?'
‘They have been chasing me… I ran away!'
‘Wow.'
He nodded amidst his stuffed mouth. She didn't say any other thing.
When he finished eating, the rain had subsided. He got up thanked her and got up to leave, she walked him out. When they got to the gate, she placed her fingers on his shoulder. Her fingernails were long and painted blue.
'Have you decided on where you will go?'
He stared at her; then shook his head slowly
'Will you stay with me?'
Usman gaped. She stretched her finger pointing at the big house. 'I own all this. My own family too is not available. My husband… That one… I'm basically the only one in this house. I have a sister that refuses to stay with me because… All in all, I'm lonely'.
'What would I do here with you?' Usman asked.
'You'd be my companion. Well, until we find your other family members.'
'There is no other relative I know of. I don't have anyone…'
'Alright then. Let’s go back in.'
They entered the house. As he answered her numerous questions, he noticed the way she stared at him. He had a hard time dismissing the way she stared at him because it had a semblance with the way his aunt used to stare at him. The next day, she took him out to buy clothes. He couldn't even appreciate her enough. Yet, she kept telling him to let it go. She claimed she was doing her bit for humanity and for God.
That Friday, she took him to enrol in a school, Imade College. He couldn't believe his luck. This was something that could only happen in movies. His parents' spirits were genuinely blessing him. However, on getting there, the principal told her he would have to start the next term since they were approaching revision week and the bulk of the term had past.
'But he was going to a school before', Omo said.
The principal shook his head. 'We're trying to raise a standard here, Madam. Look at it this way. Since he can’t provide his results from his former school, we cannot grade him this term. This means he would have to rely on his results from the next two terms. It puts less pressure on him, and we can have a more accurate view of his strengths and weaknesses. He can’t take this term’s exam with his mates. He may not do well, which would affect the reputation of this school. At the end of the term, his results would be divided by two instead of three for three terms. He has a better chance at excelling then.'
Omo swallowed, 'alright Sir, you know best.’
Thus, Usman was made to wait back till the next term. Nevertheless, the school gave him his uniform, sweater, school I.D card, and sportswear.
As they left the school, she drove him to get more clothes, a school bag, sandals, shoes, textbooks, literature texts, notebooks, and other school items. Usman couldn't believe his luck. He had just become fortunate; when he was about to go to bed, he prostrated in front of her.
‘Thank you very much, Ma. God bless you', he said.
But she rejected his gesture and pulled him up. ‘Common, don't be silly. Get up already. All you need is to read your books this term as you get ready for next term'.
He rose and caught her staring at him again in that funny way he was suspicious of. That rattled him as his mind went to the way his aunty, Iya Tade, was fond of looking at him. He dismissed it again. It was only a figment of his imagination.

Hmmm,what do they all see in him
Well some women have third eye to see a sex machine
Lovely update

Divepen1:
You'll still need to send me a message through my profile.

Done bro l sent it yesterday

usman!!!

Deleman234:
Done bro l sent it yesterday

I'll send it when compiled...

dawno2008:
Hmmm,what do they all see in him Well some women have third eye to see a sex machine Lovely update

Abi oooo..
Thanks boss

Chapter 12
Rebel

Gladys ran to meet Bidemi as he hurried away from the notice board that Friday. Only the teachers and prefects were allowed to post anything on the notice board. So, he would be severely punished if caught. She read the content of the big cardboard:
Educate The Boys About Sex!!!
‘Oh! Bidemi. What if Mrs. Ajanaku sees you?’
'She won't know it's me.'
'I hope so. Is Usman in school?' She asked.
He shook his head. 'I thought he would be coming this week too. I will go to his house tomorrow before I get home'.
She shrugged. 'Today is Friday. Maybe, he would come on Monday'.
He nodded. They returned to their class. Nothing odd happened until closing time.
'Bidemi Adeoti, see me in my office,' Mrs. Ajanaku shouted as soon as they finished the closing prayer on the assembly. He did. Immediately he got in, she attacked him: knocked him on the head and pulled his ears.
‘If I ever see that rubbish, you posted in this school premises again, I promise you, you would hate yourself! Stubborn boy! Get out of here, Mr. Girl', she said and threw him out.
Bidemi was gloomy as he left school. Many of his friends mocked him on their way home, and he felt the need to put an end to the useless venture. He walked to school on Monday, intending to never do such stupid thing again. However, getting to the gate, he saw cardboards with the sign: Educate the Boys about Sex!!! right on the big black school gate.
He was shocked. At first, he thought someone wanted to make a mockery of him, but when he into the compound, the inscription was everywhere. His mind went into disarray as he wondered who did it. Mrs. Ajanaku was furious.
'Bidemi,' she screamed as she hurried to the assembly that morning. 'Come out here.'

Chapter 13
The Big Dark Pit

Since Usman got to her house, Omo had taken him with her to church. The first day, Usman told her he was a Muslim but she insisted that she couldn't let him stay back in the house. So, he had to follow her to the church. However, he enjoyed the service. The things that attracted him more were the instruments. The instrumentalists were exceptional. He wanted to be part of them.
The pastor proceeded to teach about Joseph in his master’s house and how he was someone that stood his ground. Usman's mind went to that day at his aunt's house and knew his case was like that those of Joseph. Maybe as he grew up and remained faithful to his God, he may become a leader someday. With education and God's backing, he would definitely make headway in life.
His parents always told him to take his education like gold. To them, it was the only way to succeed in life. He knew those were true words. The few weeks in Omo's house had gotten him reading the recommended texts she bought him. His favourite was Chike and the River by Chinua Achebe.
When he was done reading most of the books, he went on to read the textbook and went as far as trying to solve some of the maths equations in the textbooks. Christmas celebration crept up on them. The most baffling thing was that her husband refused to come home. He only talked to her over the phone and she would go for days crying around the house. On days like that, he avoided her and walked around the house as if he was walking on broken bottles.
For the celebration days, she bought him clothes. He, indeed, was living in paradise. Thus, on the eve of school resumption, Usman crept into bed and prayed the way their pastor did. He prayed for many things, and in that massive room, that giant bed, he wondered if this would last. He would love it to be permanent. Suddenly, he heard a noise, making him jump out of bed. He rushed to the window and was relieved it had burglaries.
He looked about and stood still to listen for the noise again. The door to his room remained open.
'Usman,' Omo called as she entered the parlour to meet him. She wore only spaghetti and shorts. He looked away from her towards the door. He couldn't help wishing he was Ikendu. At least, he would see nothing wrong in touching her.
She was still drowsy and rubbed her eyes. ‘What's happening? Why are you up?'
He shook his head. Everything had remained silent, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the place. Something bad was happening. Then, like before, they heard the noise. This time, it was coming from the burglaries as if someone was trying to cut it off.
Omo spun round. 'Did you hear that?'
He nodded. The noise increased.
‘Wait here,' she whispered and ran to the kitchen. The noise increased. Usman followed her. Omo urged Usman towards his room and locked it. His fear got a hold of him. Nothing scared him like that, and he could feel himself vibrating from his head to his toe. The house would be burgled, but he had nothing to do than to hide in the corner.
‘The light,' she murmured and ran for the switch. In a few seconds, the light was off. Usman didn't even know what to do. But he held his calm. He couldn't imagine what would really happen to him now that he would encounter thieves for the first time. Omo pulled him to a corner of the room and began to mumble some prayers. She held on to him tightly, and he couldn't restrict her even as her body oddly rubbed against his.
'Open the door,' a man's voice called gruffly.
Omo whimpered and drew Usman closer. 'Oh my God! We're dead'.
Usman nodded. 'Aunty Omo'
'And I told Richie to stop all this travelling oh, he couldn’t even get us a simple Guard, now, we're being robbed.’ Omo whispered shakenly.
'What will we do?' Usman asked and tried to turn to her.
'I don't know.' She pulled him closer. 'I'm not with my phone. I would have called him. He would know how to get the man for us'.
The person began to kick down the door.
'We are dead,' she whispered as she pulled Usman nearer. Her hold on his body was reassuring, so he held her tightly. Suddenly, someone blew a whistle outside the compound.
Omo began to shake. 'The security men are here.'
She kicked the wardrobe open just as the noise increased and they tumbled out.
'Help,' she screamed. 'Usman, shout':
'Help...' He shouted. They paced about in the room. They shouted repeatedly. She screamed louder, and Usman had to do likewise. There was a loud knock on the gate. Just as they kept yelling, someone began to knock things over in the kitchen. The person grunted loudly.
Usman and Omo yelled. He couldn't even tell how scared he was, but he knew he just wanted to hide and stop the trouble around him. Omo switched on the light, picked the knife off the floor, and held the knob of the door as the house had suddenly become silent. This time, the whistle became louder and came from different places.
'Madam! Madam come out', another voice called from the parlour.
‘Baba Ismail, is that you?' Omo called out.
‘Yes. Madam. Na me…'
Omo glanced at Usman, and he nodded, but his body was still vibrating as the fear of death lingered. He thought he would soon die and meet his parents in heavens.
She opened the door, and they snuck out. Her television was gone. The thieves had scattered everywhere. Looking grim, three vigilantes met Omo and Usman at the door. Each of them was dressed in thick clothes and had their local guns by their sides. A dead man's corpse lay in a pool of blood, with a knife plunged in his neck. Usman couldn't believe his eyes. Despite seeing the body of his mother after her death, he could not understand how the man laid so still.
'Is that...?' Omo asked.
'Madam, this is the thief.'
' Ah!'
‘But the TV…' She muttered and pointed at the empty space. Even the door to her room was opened. She shook her head. 'Did you…? You killed a man in cold blood'.
'No,' Baba Ismail said. 'We met him like this. It's likely one of his gang members'.
‘That means they are more than one,' Omo suggested to the vigilantes.
They ran out of the room and began to search everywhere in the massive compound. Usman wished he could help out in the search, but his vibrating body wouldn't give him the courage to move out of the house.
Omo stood at the doorpost with the knife dangling from her side. He wondered why she hadn't gone inside to wear something to cover herself up. But he couldn't say anything. Out of nowhere, a man ran towards the gate.
‘That's him!' Usman shouted before he could stop himself.
Omo roused from her fear and threw the knife at the thief. The knife struck the thief, and he yelled.
‘He is here oh!' Omo screamed.
Usman glanced from the thief to Omo. He couldn't understand how she managed to strike the thief down. The vigilante raced for the gate and shouted at the thief, who was now wailing.
‘I got him,' she murmured and moved towards them.
Some other vigilantes had joined them. They took the injured thief away while some others came to carry the dead thief. Then, Omo hurried inside the house to wear something more decent. When Baba Ismail, the vigilante, returned, he narrated how the thieves jumped over the fence to get into the compound and how they have taken them to a police station. That night, they got the Television sets and the other missing items. Omo gave the vigilantes money, and Usman wished he could have his hands around that.
As Usman went to bed, the only he could think about was the hug she gave him. Then, his mind went to the way she threw that knife. It made him want to hug her some more. He couldn't tell why he felt that way, but he was happy she was an adult, and he couldn't think of doing anything with her.
He couldn't tell how long he had slept because he woke up around seven the next morning. And he might have been late if Omo hadn't woken him to take his bathe for his first day at Imade College.
‘But how would you handle everything… The house that was scattered?' Usman asked.
‘Aw! It's nice to know you want to help out. But your school is paramount. So, I will handle that myself. Now, off to the bathroom'.
Even after the bathe, he still felt like returning to the bathroom, but school was indeed paramount. His parents had gone through a lot for him to make it through school, and he must do everything possible to make use of this golden opportunity handed to him on a golden platter.
‘Usman, food is read,' Omo called from the parlour.
When he got to the dining table, he was pleasantly surprised to meet a plate of Jollof rice and meat. The only time he and his parents ate Jollof rice in their family was after they just end their Ramadan, the Muslim fast. He devoured it and ensured he broke every bone of the meat. Such an opportunity didn't come always. She also handed him some food for school in a food flask they bought the other day.
She walked about in the room in skimpy skirts. Even the blouse she wore barely covered her body. He shook his head and faced the food he had in front of him. His mind shouldn't be buried in abominable things.
'Thank you, ma,' he murmured when he was done with the food.
'No. I should thank you', she said and brushed a part of his hair. Her touch on his body made him hold his breath. The words of Ikendu Benson came to his mind. At that point, he wanted to touch her, but he quickly grabbed his plate and rose. She moved backwards.
'If you didn't arouse me from sleep with your noise yesternight, I don't know what would have happened to us. By the way, are you nocturnal?'
'Ma? Noct…'
'I mean… Don't you sleep at night?'
'I do, but I’m used to my mummy going out every night to the backyard… So I often wake up at night because I’m used to it.'
'Why does your mom go to the backyard at night?'
'That’s where our toilet is.'
She nodded. ‘Alright, hurry up. Let me drop you at school before I start the cleaning of the house'.
When he got to school, he was happy with the new school, and the teachers attended to him well. Throughout that day, he kept thanking God and blessing Omo. Now, he understood why it looked as if he knew nothing in his former school, he didn't have the necessary books. Their Math and English teachers called him out to appreciate his brilliance. He felt happy throughout the day. But his fear came again when it was time to go to bed.
Omo stared at him the same way she did the previous day. And like before, he dismissed it. ‘Don't lock your door,' she said drowsily.
‘Okay Ma.'
‘We hope what happened yesterday wouldn't recur, but I want to be sure you’re safe. You understand me right?'
Like the previous day, she woke him early, and he hurried to school. His happiness in Omo's house felt good, but the only problem he had was that she kept staring at him strangely. As the week progressed, she stopped rubbing his head. She now hugged him more. Sometimes, he felt lucky. Sometimes, he was afraid.
Everything seemed to go on smoothly. She even took him to the beach after service on Sunday. He had never been to a place like that. In the water, seeing her in bum-shorts made him feel like grabbing her, but he couldn't do anything.
Nothing seemed out of place until three days to valentine. That day, she used her Blackberry, the most popular phone at that time, to discuss with her husband over the phone. She shouted all through and slammed the phone on the floor. Usman sat in silence and watched her cry. She went out of the house, drove out, and, later, returned with five bottles of Star beer. She drank it all up, and then ordered Usman to go to bed.
He slept off, hoping she was alright and forgot to switch off the light. From his sleep, Usman heard the creaking of the door. He roused in his sleep and thought he was dreaming. Now, nothing could catch him. He was far from his aunty and uncle, which was reassuring. So, he shunned negativity. The peace he enjoyed in his new house shouldn't be marred by any form of negativity.
However, he had to open his eyes in fear as something warm, soft, and big laid on him. The room was dark, but a ray of light from the window flooded the room. He wondered who turned off the light.
'Who is that?'
'Shhh,' Omo ordered.
'Aunty Omo...'
'Shush.'
'What- Why are you climbing on me?'
'Usman, it's okay. This is what parents do. You just have to relax'.
Usman was shocked and felt like jumping off the bed. So, he pushed her off, but she was huge. She held him to the bed.
'Hel-,' he tried to scream, but she was faster and covered his mouth. He struggled. She rolled off his bed, and he thought she was done. He sat up, but she seemed to have something else in mind. She pulled him back to bed and climbed on him again, placing a big bag by his side. She opened it, brought out a rope, and tied his hands to the window.
'Stay put. You'll like it'.
'I don't...'
'Shhh... It's not painful. Most boys love it. And I have seen you staring at me. Now, keep quiet'.
‘No…'
‘Oh! You mean all those longings in your eyes… I see them. I'm sure you don't know how to use it'.
He felt himself vibrating. Whatever she wanted to do wasn't right. And he didn’t want to do it either. She pulled off his clothes and kissed his body. He kicked the bed and tried to release himself.
She began to do strange things to him. He tried to remember what their science teacher called it. Ah, yes! Sexual intercourse. No, that couldn't be it. She was raping him. So far as he didn’t consent to it, she was definitely raping him. He struggled some more.
At that point, he didn't want to think about what she was doing. He wanted to fight her away, but he couldn't control anything again. Tears dropped down his face. After a long while, she got off him and slept beside him.
'Oh God! I hate marriage', she murmured.
Then, she burst into tears, untied him, packed up her ropes and gags, and hurried out of the room. As she left, she didn't switch on the bulb, and he loved it that way. He loved to remain in his dark pit.

Chapter 14
The Big Tree in the Forest

Back at school, when Mrs. Ajanaku called Bidemi to the front of the assembly, her anger overwhelmed her so much, that she didn't ask for any explanation before she started lashing him on the assembly. He kept yelling and crying.
‘I told you to stop this nuisance,' she cried in anger.
‘I was not the one,' he cried.
Mrs. Ajanaku stopped and looked about. Bidemi assumed she agreed with him, but he didn't want to throw caution to the wind. So, he took some steps backward.
‘He is lying again. He is lying', she said and gave him five more strokes of the cane. She then went on to talk to them on the consequences of disobedience. Bidemi remained moody throughout the day as he wondered who had done it.
Mr. Alani came to the class and refused to ask him any question. As soon as they were done with his class, he turned towards Bidemi.
‘Bidemi,' he called. ‘Follow me.'
Bidemi knew he would face a panel of teachers. So, he prepared himself for what would happen there. They would abuse and call him all sort of names, but he wished they would listen to him about him not being the one that posted the images. Bidemi sniffed and rose.
They walked towards the class. However, Mr. Alani stopped at a little passage that created a sort of border between the senior class and the junior classes. Bidemi looked about in fear.
Mr Alani tucked his teacher's textbook under his armpit and held his cane with the other hand.
‘Bidemi Adeoti, what's wrong with you?' Mr. Alani asked.
Bidemi shook his head.
‘Are you sure? Are you really sure?'
Bidemi nodded and stared at his feet.
‘Why did you post those things?'
Bidemi's head sprang up. ‘I didn't post them. When she told me….'
‘Shut up! Why are you lying? Which other boy has been clamouring for boys and other stupid requests?’
‘Sir, I came in late this morning. I didn't post them', Bidemi repeated.
‘Will you keep quiet? This is what I have been telling you. You don't cause trouble for women and escape. They always have their ways. See, my dear boy, I have learnt my lesson the hard way. A girl lied against me, and people were not ready to listen. You need to avoid trouble with women and girls. You will grow up one day. Women are trouble. Run from their troubles. Run, always run'.
‘But I didn't do it…'
‘I said, shut up! Shut your nasty mouth. The poster is everywhere.'
At that point, Mrs. Ajanaku came out from the senior side of the school. She turned towards them.
'Good of you, Mr. Alani! Talk sense into his head, teach him a lesson', she said with a sneer.
Mr. Alani nodded. ‘Yes ma. That's what I was educating him about. But he's not ready to listen to me…'
Mrs. Ajanaku hit Bidemi on the head with her cane before he could get out of the way. The pain surged through his body, and he yelled.
‘Keep quiet,' she shouted.
He rubbed his head with one hand and used the other hand to cover his head. She gave him a cold glare as her hand was raised to give him another one on the head.
‘Good. Now, continue Mr. Alani', she said and walked away.
‘Can you see what I was saying? I have told you… It's not just about… Get out. Go to your class', Mr. Alani said and walked off.
Bidemi cried as he went back to his class. He decided to steer clear of anything that would cause him trouble again. This mind-set helped him in school throughout the first term. This helped him concentrate more in school.
However, when they were done with their first term exams, Bidemi's interest for boys' sex education was reawakened. Three days before their final school fellowship for the term, he encountered some people. When he went to the food-shed, he met a senior boy, John Kayode, who paid for his food. Then, another senior boy paid for his soft drink for him.
‘Join us,' John said and pulled a sit close to them.
Bidemi looked about and was afraid of the heftiness of these senior boys.
‘Guys, this is the champion of the idea,' John and the other senior said. They praised him. Many of them hated Mrs. Ajanaku and wanted to use the poster to make her angrier.
Bidemi would have loved to reject the offer, but they promised to protect him. So, he prepared to help to be with them. He told several junior students, and they made the plan for Friday, 22nd of October, which was two weeks away.
The days in between, Bidemi told other boys about their plan. They wanted it to be during the school fellowship. This week always preceded their end of the year party. The senior boys had helped them design other posters. The plan was that as soon as the preacher finished preaching, they would all stand up with the placards.
The school didn't have a hall, so they used the SS3 class for their chapel on Fridays. It was compulsory for every student. Some of the Muslim students rebelled, but the school wouldn't hear of it.
Bidemi's mind raced. If Mrs. Ajanaku saw the posters, she would flog him even more. But he needed people to understand that boys needed sex education also. He stood at the front with the placards. The other members were at different strategic places in the class. So, he wouldn't be the only one lifting the placard. As soon as the senior girl, Abiola Jeremy, finished teaching them about Trust, Bidemi raised his placard and saw the anger in Mrs. Ajanaku's eyes. Everyone in front stopped talking.
He was afraid that the others didn't raise theirs and could feel sweat gathering at his back as his throat suddenly became dry.
‘Again?' Mrs. Ajanaku shouted. ‘Get these things off my face before I make all of you suffer for it.'
‘No, ma…', Mr. Alani snarled. ‘They should be punished.'
‘If you have the time…' Mrs. Ajanaku replied.
‘Oh! I have all the time in the world. These children are goats. G. O. A. T… Goats! They need to be tutored in the way of life. Come out. Bidemi, come here. And you, I saw you … Yes, you that boy in Jss1. Err, Ezekiel. Come here. Don't drop it o'.
Bidemi couldn't bring himself to drop the poster. So, he moved forward with it. Mr. Alani gestured for him to come forward.
‘You, Ezekiel, point to everyone involved in the nuisance,' Mr. Alani said.
The young boy began to point at everyone involved.
‘If you drop the poster when I'm flogging you, I'll start all over; ten-ten strokes for each of you'.
‘But j…' Bidemi said.
‘Shut up…'
‘I didn't wa…'
‘I said, shut up.'

@Divepen1 hope you're cool
Missing updates here ooo
Pls just come feed me some delicious updates

dawno2008:
@Divepen1 hope you're cool Missing updates here ooo Pls just come feed me some delicious updates

I felt i was rushing o