I have been stealing glances ever so lightly at Sade since start of the first period and I almost got caught by the science teacher, Miss Richards, a real pain in the ass.The boys had nicknamed her Miss kick-ass to further cement her martinet status. The class bully,Emeka Obasi, once got himself into some real trouble when Miss Kick-ass, sorry, Richards, intercepted what was meant to be a love poem to Chidinma Peters, the finest girl in class, but ended up looking like botched epitaph.

"Emeka!",she barked in a particularly plangent, stentorian voice.(When Miss Richards called your name, the birds fell off their nests and green plants withered.).We all knew the consequences of pissing off Madam Kick-ass were usually dire: He earned himself twelve of the best from Miss Kick-ass ' notorious cane and a little detention after class.Emeka,a boy with a head bigger than his sense was often heard boasting of how no Woman's cane or punishment could pain him.Gullible us, we all believed was actually some kind of Superboy until his demystification.

Miss Richards could hold her own against the best of them ,and that day, Emeka realised that what a Mr Raufu can do,a Miss kick-ass can do with better style.Fast forward to 4 periods later and Emeka was still grunting and moaning like a stuck pig.

'nuff said of all that,let me tell you of my own affair.The Sade affair as I call it;albeit privately.I'll like you to all flash back to all the infatuation cases you've heard or read of:The captor-girl is usually attractive, popular and talented in some form of teenpoppy culture activity(Dancing , singing etcetera).You'd think I could not have done any worse, or better, perhaps.You thought wrong.My crush was a most surprising anti-highschool heroine.She was neither ugly nor beautiful, ; her's was the type of plainness that could be observed from staring at a piece of blank white A4 paper.She certainly was not popular because she had a good measure of shyness and was not your idea of a girly gang member:Sade was a bookworm.I think that was what attracted me, the victim-boy, to her.She would wear her glasses ever so geniusly whilst ploughing through her tome-like textbooks even during break.I recall a particular bad day for the entire class except Sade.The Maths teacher, Mr Rauf, had come in armed with quiz questions ,as usual,to torment the whole class.What baffles me is that he came in prepared -apparently-for our failure because he already had a sturdy cane with him.That day, I cursed him silently and assuring myself that he must , of course, be a sadist ;I thought him ill-suited for the teaching profession but better fitted for a career in the Nazi secret forces. Yes, yes, I watch a loooot of movies and I know Hitler.Well, that day, I regretted swapping my Modern Maths. text for Modern Mission Parts 1-4.
"Today is going to be a fine day, I can tell",proclaimed Mr Raufu.We all knew that statement was the harbinger of a very bad day for us." Will you, my hearties, all take these simple candies down, chew and make me happy ".He proceeded to dish out the questions in Military fashion.Well,I and the other band of dullards could barely write down the questions because we could not understand them. They whole droning sounded like Greek and read like Spanish, and since we were Nigerians, we surely could not be expected to provide answers in Greek or write Spanish!


After the fifteen minutes he gave us to provide solutions elapsed, he started to round in on us ,one after the other.
The first question had something to do with a circle(I know because he drew what looked like a circle on the board)
" yes, who has the answer?",he asked in a wickedly mocking tone.I could almost bet that he knew nobody could solve it correctly.
"you!, Christian, the solution".Christian, shivering like dead leaf on troubled waters, blurted out a sorry " no idea sir".
"Femi"
"Bisola"
"Ibrahim?"
"Ify"
"Obi"
"Agbabiaka?"

On and on he went and soon came to Sade who was calmness personified herself.Every other person was already sweating and preparing for the great tribulation that was be the wages of our our sin.

"5.5 meter squared sir"

Mr Raufu was scandalized.He had thought it would go round and round and he would have his fill of beating the whole class. Here was a dissident who had clearly spoiled his plan.

"correct girl, correct"." Would you come out and show these bunch of dummies how you got the answer ",He slyly demanded , thinking she had somehow seen the question somewhere, crammed it and poured it out a la carte.He would teach her not to play smart with him.

The whole class went silent and I could have sworn that Emeka's fart , which he tried to stifle, came out like WWII fat man bomb and I was left wondering if we were to suffer physical degradement , sensory harassment and environmental pollution all at once.

Sade strode gently to the board, picked a chalk gingerly (A green one-my favourite), and worked magic.She not only worked it out well without " wuruwuru" , but also belaboured her points almost like my Sunday school catechist.She could almost be our teacher instead of wicked Mr Raufu!

"Beauriful, beauriful", beamed Mr Raufu whilst trying to speak " fonee" with his harsh Ibadan accent which sounded more like an out-of-tune trumpet."Clap for her in your shame",he added.We all clapped feverishly ,hoping just maybe a little passion could bridge the chasm between our looming deaths and life.

Mr Raufu would not be appeased.

After lecturing us on how good Sade is, and how we all ought to be more like her, instead of engaging in profligacies love letters,he proceeded to call for two big boys from the senior school.

Now, the big boys from the senior school are one of the wickedest devil incarnates you can ever imagine.I don't know what we did wrong to them:If we are not being punished for the sins of our fathers, we are being extorted or sent on Sisyphean errands like picking fallen leaves from the intractable "fruit" trees that dotted the school compound.It was as if we had offended them in the netherworld.

Two big senior boys, Ahmed and Ogbunike were sent for to hold us tightly, lest we spoil the "purity" of the lashing he was about to give us! . It was really bad day. Style Plus was wrong.Nobody could move his\her body afterwards.Some girls were howling like widows. You could see tears streaming down the faces of the big boys who tried to muffle their pain in pride.That day I discovered sorrow can unite even sworn foes.

Well, Sade was spared.That day, I felt she was special and I got crushed instantly.This was what the Indian movies called love, or so I thought. I must be the raja to her rani, the Akshay to her Anjali and the Pandit to her pooja.Ah , my head was filled with movies then!

The obsession followed as swift as squeezing lemon:I could think or nothing but Sade.I became an emergency poet, a la carte teenage vanities because I could not find enough courage to talk to her .I sought refuge in anonymous letters and slipped so many between her books and on her desk while she was away-I even put some in her bags!.
I don't think she read them, or so I thought, until.....

Till today, I don't know who ratted me out.All I know was that on that gloomy day, the devil dined with me using a big ladle and I had only a teaspoon! .It was spring clear that Sade had shown the letters to her parent who in turn had complained to Miss Richards.Miss Richards had judged the letters a little too serious to warrant internal treatment and had decided to report to the school head.
The school head, Mr.Ajayi, a retired policeman was a no nonsense person.He was a midget like Hitler and had a curved, evil looking moustache.He was the nightmare of every student, especially poetry loving ones like yours sincerely.Well , Mr Ajayi mandated her to discover the culprit and report to him.The culprit was to serve as the first love martyr,like Romeo.
I was discovered -Still beats to this day.

On the day I was to be crucified, I had this funny feeling that my classmates knew something I didn't know.I asked Fela , one of my clique members, if he also noticed any strangeness.He replied in the negative. I felt happy.I already had two more love letters I was planning on dropping again.The sky was a clear navy blue I was an innocent lovelorn boy on a mission.
Immediately after the national anthem was taken,the the school head mounted the rostrum -almost like an executioner.

"We have been teaching you in these school that academics without godliness is emptinesw.We expect you to be respectful, obedient and morally sound.Now, some of you have refused to heed our teachings. They have turned to Romeos and Juliets and can no longer face their books(At this point I laughed, not knowing that I was the marked man).Good and fine!,they should continue-but not in this school!.We , like the Bible admonished, will beat the evil out of them and they shall sin no more!.Assist me as I welcome the Romeo of our time, Master Segun Oladele peter!"

Immediately I heard my name , I knew the game was up.Game over just like my Sega game says.I've done myself in , I thought.I dragged my feet heavily to the rostrum and four big senior boys were called for.I was to be spread lika a linen on four pegs.Mr Raufu , my tormentor was called on to heed the schools call and with the first high momentum strike of the curved stick, the rest, as they say, became history....

Sparrowhawk.