Some years ago, when I was not more than eight years old, my father sent me to a drug store. The boy I met was about my age.

"I wan buy Cafenol" I said, my eyes fixed on the fifty kobo coin on the shelf between us. As the boy turned his back against me, I quickly scanned the store to be sure no one was looking, and then I reached for the coin. I was pocketing it when the boy turned and extended his hand towards me, "take," he said. I collected the Cafenol with my left hand, the right was holding my coin inside my pocket.

I was barely out of the shop when the boy's father called me back. He gave me a dirty slap on the face and retrieved his fifty kobo.
If I knew that someone was behind the curtain that divided that shop, I wouldn't have taken that coin; that coin that didn't belong to me. I told myself I would never steal unless i was sure I won't be caught. That was a long time ago.

And, so, when I heard what Babs did; when I heard that he had returned a cheque he could have cashed, money that didn't belong to him, to the owner, I couldn't believe it. He could have used the money, the money that staff of our university dropped just outside the Engineering Building, to better his life. No one was watching, no one saw him. There was no way he could've been caught; that money was free money. But Babs wouldn't take what belonged to Caesar.

When I told him very few people would do what he did, "What's money, Mark? he asked, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm poor and struggling, but I'll never take what does not belong to me."

So, he went in search of the professor, and he returned the money.

But this lady professor will not let Babs be; she told everybody and anybody that cared to listen that she had found one upright student; she told the Dean of students' affairs and the University Senate, she'd not stop until the university acknowledged Babs and honored him. And the university did.

"[I] heard Babs is gone."

That was how a friend announced the passing of Babs, in a bbm chat; we were class mates in the university. "What?" i screamed, my hands trembling. For few seconds I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to write. I wanted my friend on the other end of the line to see my face, I wanted him to see the mists in my eyes. Oh, how I wish he knew what that news did to my hands, and my legs too.

"How? Accident?" I managed to ask, and then I thought that was probably not the right thing to say. I could have written 'Jesus Christ!', or '*Screams*' with a smiling smiley. That way, he would know how sad I was.

Babs was the class Rep we never elected. He was already leading us, representing us long before we officially named him. Our problem was his; he took up the responsibility when most of us would not. And when he couldn't continue, when some of us thought he was doing it for the money, he resigned honorably.

Babs was honest and selfless. I'll miss him. My classmates will miss him. His family will miss him.

Rest in peace, my friend and class Rep, Babatunde Olufisayo Cornelius.


In his honor, I hope this makes front-page.

Ur story telling skills is damn to poor!
Do u have it in mind that not all who read this knew babz neither were they in his school?
Be more creative next time

freshdude99:
Ur story telling skills is damn to poor!
Do u have it in mind that not all who read this knew babz neither were they in his school?
Be more creative next time

You did not read the story diligently; you were probably in a hurry. My story telling skill may not be good enough but it is clear, from the above write up, who Babs was. I clearly stated that we were classmates in the university, and then I went further to say that he was our class Rep.

McISRAEL:


You did not read the story diligently; you were probably in a hurry. My story telling skill may not be good enough but it is clear, from the above write up, who Babs was. I clearly stated that we were classmates in the university, and then I went further to say that he was our class Rep.

The university of Chicago abi Nsuka or Ibadan,
Secondly the class of what year.... U know
These are quite necessary to spice up stories