MORNING IN THE HOSTEL

It is dry but cold, just like the early stages of the season around late-October to early-November, every year. School is still in session, and the cold bit into Adeyemi Akinwande, a J.S.S. 3 student. He snuggled deeper into his cover-cloth, which is twice his size. He briefly remembers how he argued with his mother about the large material, and how she smuggled it into his bag at the eleventh hour. What an hour to appreciate such gesture…

“Ring-a-ring-a-ring ring! Move out for devotion!!” cried out the Special Duties Prefect. ‘Yemi groaned, sinking into his bed. A click and light comes faintly through the cloth, followed by sharp clapping of hands.

“Time for devotion, time for devotion! If you are still in bed by the count of five, you are in trouble. Five!” booms the familiar voice of the Room Head. ‘Yemi quickly pulls off his cover-cloth and rises up in time to see Imafidom, the room head counting backwards, with a belt slung over his neck. A rechargeable lamp stands on a provisions’ locker. ‘Yemi leaves the room for the corridor, and stands in between other boys. The bell ringing is soon accompanied with a whistle and a ‘senior’ dashing into a room with a belt. Sounds of the hard leather kissing flesh are punctuated with more boys fleeing their rooms into the long corridor. The most senior of the boys, jam their hands together rhythmically, and the others followed suit. One of them sings out a familiar praise song, and the now-wide-awake boys sing along, thanking The Supreme Being for the Preservation of Life. More songs are rendered and they sing along. Collins, a slim boy not more than the age of 13 drums up a beat on the door of the Hostel with the edge of a spoon. They sing one more song, and an ‘Amen’ echoes from the Chapel Prefect.

‘Amen!’ the boys resounded.

The Chapel Prefect calls on a J. S. S. 1 student who gave a short prayer, after which the students shared the grace, and the last verse of the 23rd Psalm. The boys made to disperse, but they were not done.
‘Wait for the following announcement!’ the Special Duties Prefect cries out.

The boys resume their positions at the wall, albeit unwillingly. The Senior Prefect walks up and down the corridor, looking fearfully at the younger students who cowered in fear. He is one who is well beyond 18, muscular and bearded. He looks down at Yemi who simultaneously looks away. He was sure as no man’s business going to steer clear of the Big Man.

'Now it has come to my notice that some of you do not adhere to the “lights out”, as you are caught moving around. Some of you even go as far as moving out of the hostel. Now I will say this once. Anyone caught loitering after lights out will be seriously dealt with. Am I clear?’ he thunders.

‘Yes, sir!’ the boys respond.

‘And it also has come to my notice that some items such as socks, belts and house uniforms are now growing human features. Bear in mind that whoever is caught in the act of “fapping” will not only be punished by the prefects, but will also face the House Master. Understood?’


‘Yes, sir’, the boys answer.

‘Now’, the Senior Prefect, Thomas Ayodeji begins, drawing out a sheet of paper, ‘if you go to the toilet, you would notice that it is in a bad shape, no thanks to the Visiting Day. The following students are to clean up the mess in the toilet.’ He pauses to receive a torch from another senior, and then looks around before lighting up the torch and reading the list out to the hearing of everyone.

‘Kola Abiola’!

‘Sir!’ a fat and rotund boy answers.

‘Sheyi Johnson’, the prefect calls another name.

“Yes sir.”

‘Tunde Owolabi…’

His back against the wall, Yemi is reminded by Mother Nature of his debt. He opens his eyes wide as that of Cyclops, the Greek myth, but this fails. He strains to listen to the Head Prefect, but finds himself taking the posture of a statue, his head bowed, and arms wrung like an elder. The Senior Prefect still calling names, and the corridor still dark, what could possibly go wrong?

That question receives its answer when Yemi is literally swept off his feet. His arms shoot upwards, as if praising God, for balance as he lands on the floor. Jeffrey, a senior unleashes his belt on Yemi who instinctively kneels and pleads for mercy upon his precious skin. The Senior Prefect moves closer to the scene.

‘So, you are one of those who are violating lights “out”, ehn?’

'No Senior, please’, Yemi pleads.

‘“Please”, ke? Sleeping during my exercise, abi? No problem; your work will not end. Kanmi’!

‘Yes, chief!’ Kanmi answers.

‘Note this boy. He is going to wash the toilet with your boys’, the Senior Prefect orders.

‘No problem’, replies Kanmi.

Yemi’s hands reach for his head. The worst assingmnent you can be given is the toilet after the Visiting Day. This is because of the Exodus of students to the toilet after being spoiled silly by their parents with snacks and assorted dishes and drinks. The sight of the toilet afterwarsds is one of the most nauseating, for a young boy.

The Senior Prefect dismisses the gathering, and every boy returns to their rooms, or wheresoever’s they kept their buckets or pails. ‘Yemi draws out his red bucket, amidst tears. How could such fate, very cruel, befall him on a Monday morning? Washing the toilet is not too hard a task to perform, unless of course after the Visiting Day. The task of “pounding the blast” is not one the boys look forward too. All these ‘Yemi broods upon, till he hears:

‘Baba Wande’!

Oh, how he hates the name! Originally a nickname of the very famous Yoruba thespian, Kole, one of the most irresponsible minds you can find in J. S. S. 3 had christened ‘Yemi partly due to his surname; the contributory factor being his crude accent from one of the most ancient towns in the South-West of the country. Now it’s stuck to him like a very bad odor. The name comes up again, louder this time. It is Kanmi, a senior. Duty calls. ‘Yemi replies with a sharp “sir”! He seizes his bucket and walks out to the corridor to meet the fair dude in shorts.

‘Very good; I see that you have a bucket. Take this,’ he hands over another bucket to ‘Yemi. ‘Fetch water into the two of them. I must see you here within two minutes. I am timing you. Now fly,’ he says, and moves down the corridor to the toilet, as ‘Yemi runs speedily to the door of the hostel, almost colliding with another boy. ‘Yemi races to the tap; he’s luckily the fourth person on the line, and the tap water races out to everyone’s joy. Not long after, ‘Yemi fetches his second pail, and he lifts the two, one on each arm, and walks steadily to the hostel. He looks up at the matron’s house, and a small line of girls appear there; apparently the tap at the Girls’ Hostel is faulty. He could’ve sworn as he took a brief pause, that he saw Sola, a slim, light-skinned girl in her house-wear. “Toilet” however re-appears in ‘Yemi’s mind and he doubles up, finally re-entering the hostel.

He walks past the first two sets of rooms; on the third however, he meets Olawale who emerges from his room and snickers on seeing ‘Yemi. ‘Yemi moves on as though he barely recognizes ‘Wale’s presence. Deep down though, he hates ‘Wale’s guts, more than the ‘Blast’ he is to clean in the morning. ‘Wale, to him, had always antagonized him right from J. S. S. 1, sparing him no space. ‘Yemi had unknowingly torched the dry leaves of their enmity during their first period. The class teacher had mandated the students to choose a representative. Many had displayed interest in the position of a class captain; it however came down to two people; ‘Wale and Anjola, a girl in class. The election which followed the nomination was gender-themed, but ‘Yemi upset the cart by going for Anjola, stating that the calmer fellow showed more potential leadership than the restless boy. Few other boys echoed his sentiments, and Anjola became the captain. Class teachers in 2 & 3 classes selected Anjola, instead of the luxury of another election. On numerous times, ‘Wale and his clique of boys had always opposed whatever Anjola comes up with, howbeit solid the plan. ‘Yemi however is one person ‘Wale had sworn to frustrate out of the school, and although the former had appeared unruffled so far, the latter had been doing a good job of making his life a living hell. ‘Yemi however is unaware of the fact that ‘Wale exposed his secret to Demola, which the S. S. S. 2 student has been using against ‘Yemi as a tool of blackmail. Demola, in fact, is the reason why ‘Yemi is on his way to the toilet.

Speaking of the toilet, ‘Yemi is reminded of a very important lesson he tends to forget as he approaches the room. No matter how familiar you think you are with the hostel, nothing can ever prepare you for the sickening stench of closets running over with brown waste. ‘Yemi gags as he enters the room. He approaches Kanmi, who now uses a blue piece of material as a nose-guard.

‘Thirty seconds late. Never mind. Now,’ he begins, pointing at the last door, ‘that is your workplace. The time is five forty-six. Now hurry.’

‘Yemi signals for an extra “nose-guard”. As though it were scripted, a thin boy of the same class walks out slowly, apparently due to the slippery floor. He had no nose-guard.

'See,’ Kanmi answers. ‘Now move.’

'Yemi slowly moves to the last toilet, and opens the door. What he will see, would kill his morale.

No kidding. I'm dead, alright!

END