Boarding tales I
“Annex B boys leave the hostel before the count of five!…”
“One!…”

Every body began to run helter skelter, pushing against each other, overturning empty iron buckets leaving bruised legs and curses flying all over the the rowdy dormitory.

“who is that mad person that kept his bucket on the road
ehn?”

“Hey you! Watch your front now”

“you commot for road make person pass now!”.

Feet shuffled out of the hostel, others shuffled in from the laundry where they had been taking their bath, their iron buckets crashing against terrazzoed floor as they rushed to their corners to dress up.

“Two!…” Senior Gorri continued counting.

I peeped into the dormitory from the laundry that was behind where i was taking my bath. The laundry was situated within the dormitory. As i peeped, i sighted the hulking figure of senior Gorri, his big, bulky chest priding in front of our dormitory’s entrance with his T square which served as his ass- thwacking instrument held firmly in his left hand.

Senior Gorri was double handed. I remember when i first fell into his trap sometime ago in my JSS1. He laid me down and asked me to choose between collecting five strokes of the cane with his left hand or ten with his right. Of course i chose to collect five with his left. What kind of dumb choice was this gorilla putting before me. This was a case of ‘I bring before you this day life and death. Chose life that you may
live.’ And so i thought i chose life. Little did i know that his left hand was the devil’s right hand. How could i have known, i was new to the school then and nobody told me.

“Jeezus! I af die today” i said silently to myself as i turned the remaining bucket of water over my head, tied my big towel round my small waist and dashed to my corner. Senior gorri was our assistant head boy. His real name is Gabriel Akpati. He was called Gorri by his mates due to his Gorilla looking structures. He was also termed labour prefect because according to some students, the pains you felt after encountering the wrath of his cane could be likened to the pains a woman undergoes during labour.

“Three!…”

“Ochigbo. Abeg help me with your vaseline. I no see my own again” I said to my bunkie as i struggled to pull out my uniform which was folded neatly in my metal rectangular box. It was Monday and you dared not go to the assembly dirty on a Monday morning. It was the day all the students were the neatest. Clean dark green trousers and light green shirt with white spotless pair of socks. That was our uniform.

“Momoh how many times will i tell you i don’t share my
vaseline with anybody ehn?” he replied as he closed the lid of his vaseline, dumped it into his locker.

“Ehn.. Ochigbo i know you said that but please just for today abeg. You hear?” I said. By that time i had already worn my uniform and was packing up my books, plates and cutleries into my school bag.

Ochigbo ran out of the hostel without even taking a second look at me. That boy was the most stingy human being i had
come across on earth. He didn't share anything with
anybody even his bucket. He said it was unhygienic to share things with other people. He even once told us that everyone in his house had their own buckets.

“Four!…”

I checked for my socks on my bunk were i had hung it to dry that morning, it was no longer there. There was no more time to waste i quickly picked up my toilet tissue and tucked it into my bag then dashed out of the hostel.

“Five!…”

Senior gorri finally counted. He locked the door and
commanded all those caught up in the hostel to plant their heads. I heard his voice thundering down anger on all the unlucky souls in the dormitory. I ran to the dining hall the harmattan breeze blowing cold dry air onto my oil less skin.

Breakfast on Monday mornings was usually stale bread with coloured watery liquid called tea. But we had dried akara and watery pap that morning. Reason being that the bakery that supplied us bread caught fire.

I walked into the dining hall and sighted an empty seat on the table were Ochigbo was seated. I took the empty seat beside him while we waited for the pap to be shared before saying our food prayers and then taking our breakfast.

Senior biggie the dining hall prefect assigned an SSS1 student to share the pap that morning. You were a lucky being if you were assigned to share pap or tea because that meant the last jug was yours.

When Ochigbo noticed the pap was almost getting finished and it was not close to our tables turn yet, he walked stealthily to were the pap was been shared and stretched his cup towards the SS1 boys direction. Other junior boys joined him and in no time the dining hall had become noisy.

Just when Ochigbo’s cup was about to be filled with hot pap, a hot slap landed on his back. senior biggie had come to disperse the crowd. Ochigbo held on he didn’t leave the scene until his cup was full then he ran back to his seat. It was after he had taken a sip from his cup of akamu that the pain of the slap registered in his brain.

“Auch!” he growled. Rubbing his hand on his back.

“What is your problem?” I yelled “is it just now that you are realising that they slapped you? please stop disturbing people’s peace.”

I didn’t know if it was because he refused to help me with his vaseline that made me talk to him that way. The truth is that i hate that boy. Period.

I removed the toilet tissue that was in my bag and folded it neatly to half the size of my foot and then tucked it neatly into my sandals. My long trousers covered the other bare half.

Breakfast was over and we were all asked to run down to the assembly.

*****************
The principal completed his speech by enjoining all students to be of good conduct through out the new week. Then the head boy climbed the stage and asked all those not wearing socks to come out. I didn’t move out. I stood boldly on the line with my head
raised high.

The prefects began to meander their way into the line seeking for defaulters. The health prefect walked pass me, i stood so confidently that he didn’t look carefully at my foot.

“All the others can go to their classes” The head boy finally said. As we despatched to our classrooms the tissue shifted from my foot and senior gorri noticed it.
I could not stop to adjust it as most of the prefects still had their eyes on us.

I heard senior gorri call out to me. “Hey! You! You with
tissues on your leg. Come here!”

I didn’t stop. I was not going to taste the wrath of the Gorilla today. No! Maybe some other day. I meandered my way into the crowd and got lost.

Disclaimer: please this work is purely fiction. Resemblance of character's name to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Copyright: no part of this work should be reproduced either wholly or partly without due permission from the author.

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Boarding tales II

kpa!!! Do not be carried away. That was no gunshot or knockout sound. It was the sound Ola’s palm made when it came in contact with my face.

The monthly house inspection had just come to an end. we had woken up as early as 4:00am to commence cleaning of the hostels and its surroundings. Morning duties on inspection days were usually based on allocation and did not follow the usual morning duty rooster.

The house prefect shared the duty according to preference on these days. To those he loved he gave the easier portion of duty, and to those he loved the most he apportioned the largest portion of duty. (To him who was loved the most, more was given).

Ola and I fell into the category of the most loved and so on that Saturday, we were appointed as the men in charge of the loo, the nightmare of every junior student.

All the shit for the week was pilled up for you to wash clean. You were expected to make the toilet as clean as possible because, the inspecting team dared not complain about your post of duty. If they did, it meant two things: you’d miss breakfast for that day and also get punished. So we carried out our duty faithfully.

At about 10:30 am, the inspection came to an end. Ola and I hurriedly picked our cups and left the hostel for the dinning hall. Ola loved food just like Jesus loved the world. For food Ola was ready to lay down his live.

While in primary school, Ola had once replaced the notebooks in his bag for some few slices of bread. He was about leaving for school when his mom called him back and gave him the remaining few slices of bread that was a leftover from her own share of the breakfast that morning. Ola brought out the books in his bag to create space for the bread slices. It was only after he had gotten to school that he had realized that he had not replaced his books back into his bag.

On a certain Monday morning during break while we walked to the tuck shop to get ourselves something to eat, Ola reeled his achievements to me one of which was the fact that for the two years he had been in the school, he had missed dining hours only once. He claimed that the reason he had missed lunch on the said day was because he was terribly I’ll and on drip.

“Won’t you walk fast? They would soon lock the dining oh” Ola cautioned.

“Keep quiet joor! You too like food. Glutton like you.” I ye maintaining my pace.

That was when it happened. It happened so fast i didn’t even see it coming. Ola’s large palm covered my face and produced an echo that made everything along its path resonate. I held my cheek in pain, then like the rush of a mighty wind i approached him and replied with a roof tearing slap.

“Hey! The both of you should go and lie down and wait for me in my corner.” senior Gordons our house prefect said. He had spotted us, he had caught us fighting and that meant only one thing. We were doomed.

We laid in senior Gordons corner for almost an hour, waiting his judgement

The Other junior students walked in and out looking at the two scape goats lying on the floor. Some only wondered what our offenses were while those who cared managed to ask what we had done.

Senior Gordon’s walked into the hostel after about an hour with two of his friends and four junior students holding four bowls, They walked confidently behind him like aides on a mission to deliver a package to safety. Two of the bowls contained dried ‘akara’ while the other two contained semi liquid pap. I could imagine Ola salivating and cursing the day he met me. I had made him loose yet another dining hour.

“Wetin these boys do now?” One of Gordon’s friends asked.

“Can you imagine these boys fighting in this school” he said.

“Ah!!!!” His other friend exclaimed like in the manner a person would when he hears that you had committed a crime as theft and murder.

“The both of you stand up” senior Gordons finally said.

“Shey you people think you know how to slap abi? You are going slap yourselves until blood starts coming out from your faces today.”

I turned face Ola, my heart skipped. He was bigger. This is cheating o. I thought to myself.

Senior Gordon’s jumped onto his bed and his friends jumped unto the other bunks that formed his corner. Ola and I were left in the middle of the corner as two gladiators about to consume themselves with slaps that will leave them sprawling in the pool of their own blood. We would have begged but we knew better, senior Gordons was not one that could be persuaded.

“Ola. You start. Oya! Round one slap!”

Ola landed a dirty slap on my cheek that sent a message as if to say ‘this one is for making me miss my breakfast.’ For the first time in my life, i saw the reality of the rotation and revolution of the earth which was before then just mare theories.

Our slave masters cheered as the slap fight commenced.

I looked up at Ola, and replied him with a hot slap. my palm stung.

There was cheering from the slave masters in the mini Colosseum. They were having fun at the expense of our pains.

We slapped, and slapped until we were exhausted and later asked to leave the premises. We had garri for breakfast that morning and then slept.

Later in the day, the bell for lunch rang. Ola and I sprung up from our beds and started to head out of the dormitory for the dinning hall when senior Gordons asked that we got him a bucket of water each before leaving.

As we stepped out of the dormitory, a belt twisting senior Biggie approached us.

“Where do you people think you are going to? Didn’t you hear the dinning bell?” he scolded.

“S..S…S…Sorry Senior it is Senior Gordons that sent us!” I stammered.

“You are very stupid! drop that bucket and start running to the dinning hall now!”

Senior Gordons heard senior Biggie and came out of the dormitory, his towel wrapped around his waist.

The both Seniors had been rivals from time immemorial. So we knew we would be dead if we dared follow Senior Biggie’s order. But we also would be dead if we didn’t. we stood still. caught up in between the devil and the deep blue sea and when it hit Ola that we were going to miss yet another dining hour, he sat on the floor and began to cry.

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Boarding tales III

The clanging sound of the wake-up bell cut rudely into my sleep.My eyes flung open like someone who had suddenly just popped into consciousness. I dragged myself reluctantly up from my bed, jumped down from my bunk and stared round the dormitory which had already come alive with students moving about from one corner to the other.

I stretched on my toes as my mouth slowly gave way to a wide yawn. I looked towards the direction of Ochigbo my bunkmate and class mate who was still wrapped up in his blanket making that annoying high-pitched croacky sound he always made when sleeping. And because Ochigbo was not one to be tapped out of sleep, I peeled the blanket from off his body and landed three hot slaps to the back of his leg. And each time my Palm hit his leg, he stretched and scratched the spot like one who was trying to get rid of the itch from a mosquito bite.

“Wake up joor!” I said irritatingly after the third slap and pushed him off his bunk. He landed sideways with a thud and raised himself up slowly from the ground, rubbing his eyes repeatedly with the back of his left palm, a considerable amount of spittle plastered all over his right cheek.

I looked away and picked up my sports wear which was folded neatly in my metal box from my locker. I put them on and walked out of the dormitory to join the line for the Thursday early morning jogging. In some minutes time, the prefects would come chasing, shouting at the top of their voices “leave the hostel before the count five! one!” and afterwards leather belts would be heard swirling in the air and landing on bare skins, cries of pain from torn skins would rent the air, feets would shuffle haphazardly crashing onto iron buckets and bunks, bodies would jam into one another and curses wwould be flying left, right and center.

“you should be running! I must not catch anyone strolling or walking!” senior Gorri’s voice echoed from the front of the chapel where the students were lined up according to their houses. I doubled up to join the other students.

As I approached the chapel, I caught sight of Pamela , her arms were wrapped around her chest and her lips set into a childish pout. She looked as beautiful as always even though like the other students, she too had just woken up from sleep and come out to the front of the chapel to assemble for the Thursday early morning jogging. My heart thumped faster, it always did whenever I sighted Pamela.

Pamela was my classmate. She was the most beautiful girl in the whole of Jss2. I, like the other boys in my class and beyond was crushing on her but had never had the liver to tell her what I felt for her. I had never even used the borrow me your note or biro or anything borrowable approach on her.

I had written a love letter for her on Tuesday morning of that week which was to be delivered to her after the night prep by my bunkie. The feelings were killing me so I thought since I was too shy to face her, I could write her a letter.

After the night prep of that Tuesday, I searched my bag for the letter and did not find it.

“But I put this thing inside this note now” I kept mumbling to myself.

I called Ochigbo and asked him if he had carried the letter already. He said No. I didn’t trust him. He was the only person I had shown the letter to. He might have stolen it out of jealousy. I knew he too had something for that girl. I kept cursing whoever it was that took that letter in my mind. Pamela went to her hostel that night without my love letter. If only she had gotten it, she would have dreamt about me all night.

“Attention!” senior Gordon’s coarse voice cut into my thought. I faced my front and stumped my feet quickly to catch up with the other students.

After few commands of attention-at ease, senior Gordons put peter in charge of the morale songs and we commenced the jogging exercise.

We jogged pass the staff quarters and as we approached the commandant’s house our singing became louder, the sound of sticks against broken jerry cans and stainless steel plates was heard even louder. The commandant who was watching from the balcony of his house waved at us and we proceeded to the school’s football field.

The exercise came to and end an hour later and we all ran back to our hostels to get ready for the day’s activities.

**********************”*”**”*********

The class was noisy, we had just gotten into our classrooms from the assembly ground and as usual my classmates had gathered in their cliques discussing the events that occurred in the early hours of the morning. I tore a sheet of paper from my English notebook and used it to clean my seat before sitting down. I turned my gaze towards Pamela’s seat but she was not there. I was about turning my gaze back to my front when my sight caught her sitting on Nonso’s desk, laughing and throwing her head back at whatever joke he was making.

This boy that’s razz? what is he even telling her that is making her laugh so hard? I asked myself. I felt jealous and wished the portion of earth around where he was seated will open up and swallow him up.

Mr Dandong, our maths teacher walked into the classroom minutes later with Ochigbo trailing behind him, our maths notebooks piled up to his neck. It was then I remembered where I had kept the love letter I wrote for Pamela- in my maths notebook and on the page I had done my maths assignment. And though it was a cold morning, I began to sweat.

Ochigbo shared the notebooks to their respective owners and I didn’t get mine because Mr Dandong had asked him to keep the notebook at the top on his table.

Mr Dandong taught Pythagoras theorem that day. I brought out my English note, turned to the center and took down the lesson for the day. I could not concentrate throughout the class. I wondered what Mr Dandong had in mind.

Two hours later, the class came to an end. Mr Dandong asked me to come to the front of the class. I stood up from my sit and walked up to him, my legs shaking.

“face the class” he said as he retrieved my notebook from his table.
I turned face the class and looked up to the ceiling. I traced the brown map which was carved out on it by water that had lodged on it during the rainy season. My heart was pounding hard against my chest.

Mr Dandong pulled out the letter from my notebook and asked me to read it to the hearing of the class.

I collected the letter from him, wiped sweat from my forehead, looked at Pamela and started to read.

Ditto. Ditto. Ditto.
Dear Pamela,
I pick my pen from the basket of love…

To be continued…

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Nice1I can relate@ Op. Pls did you attend command sec sch n, wch of the command did you go to?