The boy is now back. Sorry! Not really back. I will drop this and return after the next three weeks to continue. “EXAM THINGS".

The story run through just one day. So u know what to expect; won't be a Long one.

Dedicated to one of my besties, “FEYISOPE”...Figure the rest.

Before I drop anything, I'll give honour to whom it is due. Larrysun my Boss, your boy is greeting. Mr sammyhoe, i remain loyal. PrinceAdepoju my very good friend, accept my greetings. Donmayor, the story reader. All Ebiagites. *winks*. Nairaland writers and readers

“Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo.” my tecno phone kept on ringing continually. It is something that happens everyday, more like a noise ritual. 5:00am, everyday, my phone buzzes to life. After lingering , I stretch my right hand towards the disturbing sound. Slightly raising my head, I tapped on something on the screen which I don't know but was sure to stop the noise. I've been doing this almost everyday, the words on my screen just don't stick to my brain.

I lay still on the bed; half awake. I could hear noises from the parlour. Its the prayer team. They should be leaving already. The generator suddenly went off. Its had been on for five hours. I unplugged my phone, leaving the charger to keep hanging in the wall socket. I had left it to charge overnight; the battery was almost empty the previous night.

Elvis was sleeping soundly beside me. Leaving the bed was not something I thought of doing, a little more sleep will do. I woke up some forty minutes later, scrolling through my phone. I had created a useless thread the previous night on nairaland; The book of Maputohq( king James Version). The network signal had suddenly gone to rest before I plugged the dying phone to it's charger. I scrolled to my data connection settings, enabling my data connection. Thank goodness! The signal strength was good.

I tried browsing through Facebook and nairaland simultaneously. I had unintentionally provoked Feyi the previous day. She must be really angry, I had thought. Whatever it was, Feyi should forgive. I felt really depressed. I thought of calling feyi later in the day to straighten things up.

I lazily dragged myself off the bed, staggering towards the toilet. I sat down, emptying my bowels; a common ritual I observe every morning. I had lost the habit of praying every morning, today not different either.

I walked out of the house to resume my morning duties. I had earlier planned to read in school in preparation for exams but I began to feel indifferent towards it. I should postpone it till tomorrow. No requesting transport fare, I had made up my mind; I'm not going to school today.

Ghost mode till after exams.

Behind you all the way.

After my morning duties, I pick my phone again, checking what is trending on net. News about Ebola virus formed the topic of the day. I aborted my internet surf, dropping the phone on a table, irritated. Why would we be continually discourage with such sad news. I felt like taking something, though I wasn't really hungry. I had overheard blessing talking about cooking rice earlier. I went straight into the bathroom to have both my body and my mouth washed. “F|_|(k!” I swear. “I left this cup outside.” That is the cup with which I scoop water. I had no plans of going outside; I was unclad. I turned the shower's switch, hoping for a miracle. Water dripped slowly from it, gushing out after I opened the switch further.

I thought about self-servicing while having my bath. I have heard of the Vaseline movement, how about if I use soap instead? I picked the soap, make some foam and then off I go. I hadn't tried it before; so I never knew what to expect. The feeling was that of pleasure. Would you go on, an inner voice said. This is wrong , another said. The fluid poured out lyk urine after minutes of continuous stroking. The shower came on again, breaking some minutes of silence. I had never lost fluid before except while sleeping. Whatever it was, I had done something I hadn't done all my life.

I left the bathroom, feeling fresh, dried my body with the towel I left hanging by the door knob. I left the room for the kitchen, immediately after getting dressed, not minding to apply any cream on my body or an haircream.

The kitchen was scattered. That wasn't of any concern to me; I had done all I had to do. What took me into the kitchen was to fill my belly and not to do any cleaning on it. I ate the food in silence, my day promises to be boring.

Picking my phone, I logged in into Facebook again. A post caught my attention: “a certain mustapha converted to Christianity." I had reply telling the poster to check the story of a “Certain wanda who had converted to Islam” ending my arguments with “every religion has its own claims. ” I had also made him know i am Christian seeking for the truth, and not the muslim he had mistaken me for. He seems to be learned in the truth dat i agreed to learn from him.

The little cats around me began their duties for the day; playing around the house like excited bears, littering the house so that it began to compete with a pig's sty. I couldn't withstand staying in a place being turned to a slum by silly kids who are overexcited. I changed my mind.

“I'm going to school,”I said.
“For what?” asked Elvis.
“So we will be alone at home? ” blessing blurted. Her statement got me really pissed off. That was something I never enjoy hearing, for it to be from her mouth is not helping either. Why wouldn't she shut the hell up if she has nothing sensible to say.

I went back into the room, picked a soul mate hair cream, applied it on my hair. I searched for my combs but couldn't find any. My anger was beginning to boil. These cats again? They had taken my three combs, I can't find any. Maybe its high time I barbed the hair. After searching frantically for them, I saw an old comb. I sent it straight into my hairs, not minding who own it.

I kept wandering around the house, looking for nothing in particular. I saw a small cylindrical shaped plastic object, oh! It was just powder. Should I use this? After much arguments within me; the type of argument you engage in with your soul, I made do with a little quantity, picked a broken mirror on the table, applying it gracefully. Gazing at the mirror, my mind flashed back to a post I saw about women looking into the mirror for ten years of their whole life compared to men's three years. That must be a very silly fact. Oops, I need to call feyi, lest I forget. I picked my phone and scrolled through my contacts. It moved so fast, I had to do it carefully. I gave a sigh on seeing the number. I reluctantly tap the dailing button. I couldn't bear to listen to the sound indicating a successful connection. If she refuses to pick, I'll just have to drop the phone and leave home dejected.

I thought about how I got myself into this slight mess. That post of hers that caught my attention on Facebook. WTF! A post with 19 comments? That is no mean achievement, I thought. Tapping the comment box, I had written “Do you know wat is funny, this **** has 19 comments... shaking my ****” On refreshing, the notification bar turned yellow. Who is stalking me, but my brother giving my post a little backup.” What could he be doing by this time. I wasn't trying to bash anyone, but his backup proved otherwise. I made another gibberish post before logging out. I had later found out that my ridiculous joke failed to serve its purpose, she was angry.

The vibration of my phone brought me back to reality, the person at the other side had answered her call.

Lifting it slowly to my ear, I waited in anxiety for any sound
“hello.” came a familiar voice, it was feyi.

“yea, how far.” I greeted

“who is calling?” she asked.

Who is calling? Weird. “you said?” I asked in disbelief, after confirming I had used the right number.

“who is this?" Came the reply.

“It's Chukwuma.” I said, pronoucing my name with pride, the way it should be pronounced.

“Is this your number?” she asked again. I checked again to confirm that I've not been using a different number.

“yes, its mine.” I replied, confused. Was she playing mind games or was she sincere about that?

Moves to front row with joy...Mey I invite Tiffanyj, my oga @ d top

Divepen: Moves to front row with joy...Mey I invite Tiffanyj, my oga @ d top

i'm here sir. Tnx for inviting me. Abeg shift make i sitdon. Op, we dey wait o

TiffanyJ:
i'm here sir. Tnx for inviting me. Abeg shift make i sitdon. Op, we dey wait o

Welcome... Shey u go chop chinchin

LarrySun: Behind you all the way.

*Boots my confidence *

Divepen: Moves to front row with joy...Mey I invite Tiffanyj, my oga @ d top

*u welcome *

TiffanyJ:
i'm here sir. Tnx for inviting me. Abeg shift make i sitdon. Op, we dey wait o

tnx for following...

Come continue i beg

I love the style you use in writing and ofcourse your diction. Waiting for more!

Timothy3113: Come continue i beg

I dey come ooo... Just need to attend to some stuffs.

TiffanyJ: I love the style you use in writing and ofcourse your diction. Waiting for more!

Tnx.

“Is this the one you normally use?” she asked again.
“Yes now.” I answered, irritated. “This is the one I've been using.”

Though I had three different sim cards, I couldn't remember using the other sim to have called. The one I once used wasn't in any phone at that moment.

“It wasn't showing.” feyi said, in a gentle voice. Obviously something wasn't right.

“You said.” I asked in wonderment. What wasn't showing, was she talking to me?

“Your number didn't show.“ She stressed emphatically.

“Maybe your phone has low IQ.” I said, smiling. That has been the way I qualified phone that couldn't recognize registered contacts. I came up with that description, after I discovered that my phone sometimes show me only numbers when a registered contact calls. It is usually a frustrating moment: Adding a number to your phone book, only for the same number coming in as an incoming call, staring at you right into your eyes, instead of the name you had registered.


“why you dey vex yesterday?” I switched to pidgin. She made a muttering sound at her end. “hmmm?” I hummed inquisitively.

“ I don't know.” came the reply. I could sense disgust in her voice.

“I was just joking. You were suppose to know it was a joke.”

I had called it a joke, maybe it wasn't really a joke, it looks more like mischief; I was just being plain mischievous. It had brought me Feyi's anger. If I had wanted to be in someone's black book, it is certainly not hers.

Five minutes was enough for the discussions , more like an apology; that was my sole aim of calling in the first place. Going to school was next. 11.56 am. Its almost noon. I waited for lunch, which wasn't ready until two. I ate it in a hurry, I must be in school before 3pm.

“Are you still going to school?” Blessing asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Don't go now.”
“Why?”
“It won't be fair.”
O gosh! This girl must be really ret@rd€d. So the best answer she could think about is that it's not fair? I remembered she once asked me who a slowpoke is. “check the dictionary. ” I had told her. Picking my Oxford advanced learners dictionary, she asked on what page it could be found. I replied, telling her it could be seen on page 250. She had gone on an endless search on page 250. “you are the definition of slowpoke, I had told her in anger.
Whatever her reasons were, I was bent on going to school. My heart was fixed.









Leaving the house wasn't going to be easy as I had thought. Blessing had vowed to make me stay. I can't find my pen. Where could it be? I remember holding the pen a while ago but I couldn't recall dropping it. I searched through the house, walking back and forth but all my efforts were in futility. It had only succeeded in wasting my time. I gave up the search. I was going to get a new pen when I get to school. My book was also missing. It then dawned on me that I was been ridiculed; someone is playing pranks on me. It was no one else but the notorious girl, Blessing.

“Give me my book.” I yelled.
“What book? ” came the sharp reply. Blessing was trying to suppress the laughter on her face. She had the book. I was raging within me; I would have taught this cat how to respect, time was against me. I hissed, walking back to the room to take another book. “How many books do you have?” Blessing asked. I was in no mood for her antics. I left the house without saying a word.

Blessing was not done with me yet. She ran to the gate, standing I front of it. I didn't know whether to cry or laugh. This girl must be high on some weed. MUTI. I succeeded in getting my obstacle out of the way after much struggle. Yes, she was an obstacle already, a nuisance. My plans have been thwarted; it was 3.40 pm already.

“Udo.” I sighed.

Abdul came to mind. That naughty guy. I thought, smiling. He had always intentionally get on my nerves, ridiculing me at any given time. He had once tagged me a “Gay guy ” as he loves putting it. Now he had given me an imaginary wife, Udo. I had told him udo means peace in the South east but he would have non of it. According to him, Udo has reedeemed me from gayism. Naughty boy. Maybe I should holla at him before going to school. No, time isn't on my side, I'm running late for school; the school library will be locked soon.

I got to school, feeling more frustrated than I was earlier. I bought a pen before entering into the school. The seller seems not have noticed me, she was busy with another customer. I took a pen I felt was the best, after much scribbling on the notebook I was carrying.

I walked to the library slowly, my head bowed, not minding who or what I came across, even if it were my friends. Rondy wouldn't be in school. Friday is a working class student and should probably be hustling somewhere, Nicholas rarely made use of the library or should i say he never did? Destiny, I don't know. I felt destiny was so controversial; We never agree on anything. One way or the other, we will find something to disagree on, the subsequent argument between us leading to one or both of us been hurt. Not physically though. So, luckily or unluckily, my friends had taken that day off, I was in no mood for frivolities.


The library was so scanty, the few students present burying their heads in their book , seemingly unconscious of their environment. The silence could scare an evil spirit. The only sound was the noise of the fans above. There wasn't a stare from any individual as I walked in, making it look as if they were robots, programmed to focus as if their life depended on it, though, it does to some extent. I kept my book on a table and walked to the shelf. The library shelves carries various tags, indicating the books occupying certain area on the shelf. I went directly to the constitutional law tag; I had become familiar with it. I needed to read a book on constitutional law; I rarely study that course, I have to if I should pass the course.

Searching through the piles of books, I came across books on constitutional law: Constitutional history of Nigeria. but I wasn't looking for those. The ones I came for were not there. I felt exhausted. Going into the reserve section is something I hated doing but for no certain reason. I just hated going into it. My intentions had been killed, killed by a devil who had snatched all goodluck I had woken up with. Whoever that devil is, I will have to fight it. I walked back to the seat with a feeling of melancholy. How I wish I remained at home. I open the book I took along with me to school, it was my lecture note. I picked a topic from another course. That was better.


I had switched between reading and browsing the internet within two hours. By 6.00pm, I stood up to leave the library. The figure of a boy engrossed in studying with his spirits almost visibly engulfed in breaking any barrier between him and the spirit of understanding. What! Is this not Awal? Ok. Maybe I have been dreaming, I will soon be up. I walked past him , trying to see what book he had on his table. Bodly written at the top was ‘The Judicature’. I pricked myself by the side with my pen. I wasn't dreaming; Awal is actually studying Judicature. I use to see him as an unserious student but my perception about him changed thereafter.