₦airaland Forum

Welcome, Guest: Join Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / New
Stats: 2,333,205 members, 5,160,721 topics. Date: Thursday, 19 September 2019 at 03:16 AM


Nairaland Forum / Entertainment / Literature / DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. (618 Views)

The Life I Didn't Want To Live - Diaries Of A Virgin Boy / Hills And Wills Nwokedi, Twin Authors Of Dominik's Diaries / Diaries Of A Sex Addict Pt1 (2) (3) (4)

(1) (Reply) (Go Down)

DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:53pm On Sep 02
Hi guys, I am Isaac, and I am writing a series (on www.collegeafrican.wordpress.com) based on Secondary School experiences.
it's however very relatable and promises to be awesome.
Enjoy your read.�

Copyright © 2019 by Blalock Writes.

"All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law."

"Reviews, suggestions and most especially constructive criticism would be highly appreciated."


I was nine, ready for High School and I already had my whole life planned.

I’d won the Turkish Mathematics competition at 7 (Yeah, I was definitely very smart and I knew it), represented my school in various competitions and even preparing for the Olympiads by the time I was 8. I’d always wanted to go to the popular Loyola Jesuit College.

But my mum had other plans: she wanted me to attend a Unity College.

I’d heard tales about Loyola Jesuit College. How their students made straight A’s in their WAEC exams, represented Nigeria in Science Olympiads and so many academic feats I could only dream of. I longed to be there with the 'top' guys and the thought of leaving home for anywhere else broke my heart. Despite
my mum’s best efforts to convince me that Suleja was one of the best schools in Nigeria
“ _It’s for the gifted_, she said"
But then, I just wouldn’t contemplate the idea of going anywhere other than Loyola.

Luckily, my dad was also hesitant about FedAcad, he’d never really liked government schools. I thought that’d be the end of it till my mum announced I was gonna be writing the Common Entrance Exams for the unity college. I started to protest but the look she gave me shut my mouth, any further protests would have earned me an immediate beating.

After series of cajoling and pleadings, my dad finally allowed me to write the entrance examinations for Loyola Jesuit with *‘permission’* from my mum who assured me that hell will be let loose if I failed the entrance exams into FedAcad. I desperately wanted Loyola Jesuit and I was willing to put in my best to get it. But, I had to prepare for both exams as I didn’t want to be evicted from the house.

On that fateful day, dressed in my sunday best, I strode into the hall brimming with confidence as I’d made all the necessary preparations. The entrance exams into Loyola Jesuit were quite difficult but I wasn’t fazed. In fact, I was quite pleased with myself for writing their seemingly *‘hard'* exam. Two days later, I wrote the entrance exams into Federal Government Academy, Suleja. The exams were relatively easy compared to other exams I’d written and only served to reinforce my opinion of Loyola being the best.

Days rolled into weeks, and weeks into months. I spent time planning and scheming on how to convince my parents that Jesuit Loyola was the _‘ultimate’_ while my mum fervently prayed and awaited the results.
When they were released, I got really high scores in both exams and therefore was qualified for their interviews.

On the 24th of September, Mum happily broke the news of my admission to Federal Govt. Academy Suleja (FedAcad). I’d already gotten my admission letter into Loyola the previous week but my Dad, ever
the diplomat had asked me to await the results of FedAcad.

I was at a crossroads.

I couldn’t possibly defy my mum and she didn’t want to hear anything about Loyola Jesuit. The decision was left to my dad who was fast losing his ‘rep’ with my mum. She could see he was inclined to side me but we both knew she’d make the house unbearable for us if we went against her wishes.

*Edited by Don_walte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:56pm On Sep 02

The next day, my Dad woke up announcing to the family that ‘God spoke to him’ that FedAcad was his Will. I was devastated. I couldn’t believe I wouldn’t get to meet those ‘top’ guys. I didn’t even bother trying to convince him anymore as I knew my mum ‘had finished work on his head’.

On the 9th of October 2011, I resumed into FedAcad. My mum accompanied me through the registration process and I moved into my hostel. She’d been trying to pacify me by offering to buy me anything I wanted but I wasn’t having any of it.

I was welcomed by a senior (who turned out to be our house captain). “My name is Soma” he introduced himself, “Come and report anybody that looks for your trouble and I’ll deal with them” he assured me.

Soon it was time for dinner. I took my fork, knife and spoon and ran to the dining hall. Students were seated in tens, based on their hostels and classes. I hurried to a table with about seven students I suspected to be newbies like myself seated round.

Gban Gban Gban!!! Everyone stood as though someone important had just walked in. “For the food we are about to eat, we thank you oh Lord” a senior girl (who turned out to be the food prefect) prayed. Gban Gban Gban!!! The bell rang again and we sat down like programmed zombies. 'I am not gonna stand up next time' I decided.

We got down to our food. It was a meal of rice and stew with thumb-sized meat which I hurriedly wolfed down. As soon I was done eating and stood up to leave, I heard Soma call my name, 'You can't leave till the bell rings again’ he said. I had to wait till the bell was rung after which everyone trooped out of the hall.

I went into the hostel and went straight to bed so as to sleep and wake early for the next day. “Tomorrow is Monday!” I thought to myself, struggling to contain my excitement as I anticipated my first class in college. I felt I wasn’t supposed to be this excited as I never wanted FedAcad but I guess I had to make do.

I was still lost in thought when a voice called my name. 'John!!!’ Soma called me. His voice had an ominous ring to it. 'Yes' I answered, slightly frightened, 'Join the others assembling outside my room' he ordered.

I left my 'corner' for Soma's room and met about more than a hundred students seated (on the floor) in front of his room awaiting the commencement of the meeting.

Furious and angry, Soma arrived.

Edited by Don_walte


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:56pm On Sep 02

'Who defecated in the toilet and did not flush?' He roared. The silence was deafening. We were quiet as though we were taking a minute silence for a lost friend.
'A spirit went there to use the toilet abi?’ He continued.
The sudden transformation of Soma was quite incredible, I couldn’t believe this enraged bull was the nice guy I’d met earlier.

'Jss1 students move aside, you have one week of grace' He muttered as though he deeply regretted it.
"Jss2 students, to my left. Since no one has decided to confess, you will all pay dearly for it, c’mon will you all lie down!!!’
He proceeded to lash every one of them thoroughly with his leather belt. It was a sight to see as cries and moans of pain rent the air.
'Next time you guys 'shit' in the toilet again without flushing I’ll show you pepper!' he bellowed.
Man! I was scared shitless. I struggled to understand how people could be treated in such an inhumane manner as I’d just witnessed.
“Soon my week of grace would be over and I will have to face this too?” My parents had never beaten me like that, I definitely would have questioned if they were my parents.
At that point, various options ran through my mind; calling my parents to come and get me out of here or even escaping not being the least of them.

At exactly 6:30am the next day, I was ready for school. I walked alone to the dining hall. Bread, tea and eggs were already served. At about 7:02am, the food prefect, whose name I’d learnt was Halima rang the bell, I stood up with the others despite my decision not to yesterday as the events of the previous day were still fresh in my mind.
“For the Food we are about to eat we thank you oh Lord”
We all ate in silence. In few minutes I was done, the bell was rung again and we all left for the assembly hall and in no time, I was there. The band boys were already warming up. It was a little similar to what I was used to in Primary School. We lined up like a battalion of soldiers waiting for a march-past. We waited for the Principal and his Staff patiently. After about twenty minutes of standing, they still weren't around and by then I was already tired. I desperately wanted to squat but I wasn’t ready for the consequences so I stood.

The principal and his staff entered the Hall at exactly 7:45am. I wondered if it was routine for the principal to be this late. I was very much relieved when learnt from a senior in JSS2 later in the hostel that assemblies held only on Mondays and Fridays except for special occasions.

The Principal whose name I later learnt to be Mr. Festus Akinjobi started the assembly with the national Anthem. '’The national anthem at the count of 2...” We sang the two stanzas of the National Anthem to the rhythmic beating of the drums. The Pledge followed which I recited mindlessly. Prayers were next.
'A Muslim and A Christian' He continued.
Two senior students climbed the podium immediately and led the prayers. After the prayers, the Principal and his staff took their seats. It was time for the press news reports.
A boy looking smart, dressed in his well starched uniform walked up onto the stage. He sat down comfortably on a chair prepared for him (I guess).
He took a deep breath, then started:

'On the news this morning:
¶ Five killed, 2 injured in terrorist attack in Borno
¶ President Jonathan builds ties with the US.
¶ LAUTECH Strikes again

The news reporter who I later learnt to be the Press Club president - Ajao Kabir reported wonderfully well.

The principal then welcomed us, the new students. He advised us to be of good behavior and charged us to study hard so we could make our parents proud.
‘You are the best of all Unity college Students'. He said.
‘And for you to be given admission here you must be gifted. You all wrote an entrance exam different from what was written in other Federal Colleges, so I expect you all to do perfectly well in your academics,’ he continued.

Suddenly, the tone of his voice changed, rage and indignation was written all over his face.
I was starting to wonder at the rate with which moods changed in this school.

Edited by DonWalte


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:57pm On Sep 02

‘'A junior student reported that he was beaten by a senior student yesterday. They’ve not even landed and you’ve started beating them?!!!
Mustapha Kpangolo of Ss3C come out!!!' Mr. Afolorunsho breathed fire. I thought I could see it right there where I stood.

Mustapha, a lanky and haggard-looking senior with his trousers sagging bounced to the podium. He looked like the gangsters I’d seen in movies at home. I even wondered how he’d managed to get admitted into the so called gifted school. I had always imagined all the students to be of good behavior, facing their studies squarely. I was wrong. 'Loyola can't be anyway like this' I thought to myself. I just hoped Loyola would take me after Jss1. With each passing incident, I was becoming too sure I’d already obtained enough evidence to convince my Dad to change his mind concerning FedAcad.
He would have to disobey God this time.

'He would be given 10 strokes of the cane, after which he would face the disciplinary committee' the Principal announced. One of the teachers, Mr. Festus, a tough-looking man stood from his seat (the teachers usually sat on the podium) smiling devilishly. He had a Horse whip on his left hand, and a _'Pankere'_ on his right. This man’s favorite past-time was definitely flogging. I immediately made a mental note to avoid him at any cost.

'Lie down!' He ordered him.
'Wham, Wham....' He lashed him heavily with his horse whip but to my shock and dismay, Mustapha received ten heavy strokes without even flinching. He 'dusted' them. I was sure just one of those strokes would have sent me running back home. Even Mr. Festus couldn’t hide his disbelief. He walked back to his seat panting heavily.
'This should serve as a warning to you all never again to touch these kids'
The principal continued, pointing to us. He then made other announcements and we ended the assembly by singing the school's anthem.

I’d been lost in thought during the course of the announcements so as soon as the assembly was brought to a close, I hurriedly made my way out.
The principal had announced that the JSS1 Students were going to have a week- long orientation and therefore were to wait behind in the assembly hall. My spirit further plummeted when I learnt that the orientation was going to last a full week. One full week and no classes? Mum is definitely wrong for bringing me here.

‘'John, where are you going?” I was trying to maneuver my way through the sea of bodies out of the assembly hall when I heard someone call my name.
I was startled because I thought nobody knew my name. I turned to see a senior with round tinted glasses making his way towards me
His name was Njoku Chindindu, and he was Peace House's Deputy House Captain. I remembered I’d met him during my hostel registration.

“Where are you going?” he asked again, a little forcefully this time “Aren’t Jss1 students meant to wait behind?”
'Sir, I didn't know we were meant to wait behind' I replied him sheepishly, fear gradually seeping into my bones. Replays of the floggings I’d witnessed flashed through my mind.
“Weren't you in the assembly?” He continued, his voice was now pitched. I
started to tremble as tears pooled in my eyes.
'I am sorry Sir, please I won't do it again' I pleaded, drops of urine starting to trickle down my shorts.

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:58pm On Sep 02

While Mrs. Umaru was scolding the scape goats, a white haired man walked in. In unison like programmed robots we stood up,
‘'Good morning sir!'’ we shouted
‘'Good morning students, how are you all doing today?'’ he responded pleasantly

Following the greetings, Mr. 'white hair' whispered something to Mrs. Umaru after which he told introduced himself.
“I am Mr. Mayaki; your senior boarding house master. The senior boarding house mistress will be around soon to also address you. Well, that's by the way, I hope none of you has being fagged by any of the seniors.' He asked us sounding a bit concerned.

'Yessir!' We chorused in unison. We’d been warned repeatedly by different seniors never to dare 'report'.

“If you dare report me and I get expelled or ‘deboarded’, you will know what's up” A Senior named Fayeye Stephen had threatened as he smiled devilishly yesterday. If any 'unable-to-endure' junior reports him and it leads to him being sent home, his mates (ss3 guys) would definitely make this Academy hell for the 'unfortunate' person, he’d explained.

Mr. Mayaki, seemingly sensing falsehood in our “Yessir” chorus, smiled as he assured us that if anyone try bully us and we report the fellow to him, the bully- senior would be well dealt with.

'He would face the disciplinary committee and afterwards be deboarded.' He elaborated. He sounded very trustworthy and this gave me a MR-MAYAKI-GOT-MY-BACK feeling; I immediately decided I was going to defy the threats and report Soma if he tries to mess with me.

Five minutes into Mr. Mayaki's talk, a middle aged woman walked in. She was wearing a black corporate dress with black shining earrings to match; she looked like a celebrity of the 90s.
“Upstand greet” an unidentified voice shouted
“Good morning ma” we chorused.

'Good morning students, I am Mrs. Ayomikun Deborah, the senior boarding house mistress. Report to either myself or your various house mistresses if you've got
any issues. I would also be your Yoruba teacher and I don't tolerate noise making in my class...'

Her I-DONT-TAKE-NONESENSE personality was obvious from her speech; her first class proved me right as she thoroughly lashed someone making noise.

She whispered something into Mr. Mayaki's ears after which he continued from where she stopped.
'You eat your breakfast by 7am, lunch by 2pm after school hours and your dinner by 6pm; late coming to the dining hall might cost you your food. (My food ke) Also afternoon classes starts by 4pm; since you have not yet resumed into your classes, you would be coming here for your afternoon classes... (We finally spent the time reading our literature books).
Night prep starts by 8:00pm; you’ll go to the night prep to read and do your assignments; I hope you are all aware that the standard pass mark here in FedAcad is 65%. Anything below that will get you transferred to another College”

He paused for effect.
By now, everyone was paying rapt attention.

“You will be ‘revolved’ (I didn’t need to know the meaning to understand what he meant). He ended his long boring speech with a devilish grin. It seemed as if we had mortal devils as teachers in FedAcad.

Seconds rolled into minutes and minutes into hours, as both the senior boarding house master and Mistress were done orientating us.
We clapped for them as they left the podium.

As the senior boarding house master and mistress left the podium, our year head came up the stage along with another light skinned woman

The unidentified voice shouted again “Up stand greet”
“Good morning ma”, it seemed as if our job in this school was just to stand and greet
'Good morning students, I am Mrs. Ayodele A. O. from the guidance and counselling department; do you have any issues? Or are you confused about something? Just pay us a visit.'
It sounded like a radio advertisement to me; this school is definitely full of wonders.

(Honestly I doubt if any of my 'later friends' ever went to see the G&C for an advice or any such thing - It was just protocol: virtually all schools had a G&C unit)

She continued, looking more serious this time.
'You must not have less than 65% to remain in this school else you would find yourself out of the Academy, FedAcad is for the gifted, you were tested differently from other Unity Colleges to be admitted to this school so you must maintain that'

Strangely, I felt something akin to pride as she said those words, I was not just any Dick, Tom nor Harry.
I was John, Gifted and Talented.
I was little bothered about taking and maintaining 'first position' in the midst of
other bright chaps from different parts of the country. It was gonna be a herculean challenge which could only be faced with courage.


'That boy, stand up' The high pitch in Mrs. Ayodele's voice startled me; it instantly brought me back from wonderland.
My village people definitely haven't decamped, they were still after me and must have been grinning from ear to ear as I was the culprit this time.

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:59pm On Sep 02

'You weren't following. What did I say is landmark for you to remain the Academy?'
Her certainty that I wasn’t following was a bit unsettling, it seemed she must have been a psychologist.
Well, she was about to be disappointed as I was still on track when she spoke on what was needed to survive in this god-forsaken place.

'65% ma', I answered.
'Okay, clap for him' she said, her smile widening to a grin.

'pa pa papapa pa' Sounds of thunderous clapping filled the air, it almost pulled the roof down.

'Learn to pay attention in class hun, I am sure you don't have a wife or kids at home, or do you?' She asked.
I 'boned' as everyone burst into laughter.

Soon it was 2:00pm, I marked Day 1 - Orientation done on my diary and wrote 'time for lunch' then tucked it into my bag carefully after which I hung it and made my way out of the assembly hall. I timidly asked a Jss2 student I came across as I walked to the dining hall what we were eating that afternoon. 'Rice and Beans with stew and flaked fish' He replied, bursting into laughter immediately he said 'flaked fish'.
I didn't get the joke but I chuckled all the same.

He happened to be In Red house while I was in Yellow, so he walked up to the part of the hall for red house students while I walked up to the part allocated to yellow. I later learnt his name was Babatunde Fawaz; we later became best of friends till this day. I joined 7 jss1 boys already seated round a table while I wondered how they got to the hall so fast. It was just 2:07pm and I was sure they weren’t ‘gifted’ supernaturally too


'Gban Gban Gban, for the food we are about to eat we thank you oh Lord'
The Food Prefect - Halima, rang the bell, while we all stood up in one accord as we chorused Amen.
'Enough of all these standing and seating, we were not in primary school abeg.' We were definitely, being trained as zombies in this academy; I was going to make a change but probably when I become prefect, I thought to myself.

Halima rang the bell again as we sat down while someone served the food. The dude served a small quantity for others while he dished a mountainous diet for himself. I’d had enough for one day and had finally gotten to my tipping point. 'Guy, wetin be this one nah, you con serve plenty for yourself' I raged.
I was bit surprised at my sudden shift into my half-baked pidgin but I guess hunger and anger were enough to make me abandon my ‘ajebo, oxford’ English as it didn’t just seem sufficient enough for me to express my pent-up emotions at that point.
My mum frowned heavily against me speaking Pidgin English but my friends always spoke it so I picked it up unconsciously.
"It will ‘spoil' your English” She bellowed anytime she caught me speaking it, but I was now in the boarding house, away from my mum and a boss of my own.

The look of shock on the boy’s face would have made me laugh if not for the gravity of the situation. He opened his opened his mouth, shut it and opened it again in complete surprise
“W—where’s y-your plate” he stuttered.

I showed him the little quantity he served for me that even my 5 year old sister at home would have picked up a knife to fight at such an insult, not to talk of my grown–ass self
He took two mighty spoons from some of his into mine, after which he served the stew. We drew our plates of food to ourselves, while we brought out our spade- like spoons to eat. At the table beside mine, I watched a senior amidst amazement as he completely covered his food with another plate and turned it sideways to drain water out of the food.
New wonders every day.

In few minutes I was done eating, it was so annoying and frustrating that I had to wait till the food prefect rang the bell.
'Gban gban gban'
I dashed out immediately after the bell, to avoid the 'traffic' coming out of the hall.

I pull off my uniform immediately I got to the hostel, collapsed on my bed from exhaustion and fell asleep. I had read through the Admission letter and guide lines booklet; siesta was the next on the table of events and at that point I really needed it.
Little did I know that it wasn't taken seriously.
After just 30mins of sleeping, I was woken up by the noise made by 2 Jss3 students arguing so passionately on who was better between Ronaldo and Messi. I was just hearing 'Ronaldo ni, Messi ko' in my sleep.

Helplessly angry I got up to my feet, I decided to wash my clothes before 4:00pm. It was still 3:30pm, so I picked up my bucket, picked my big sachet of sunshine detergent as I walked briskly to the tap outside, I met two people at the tap; one of them seemed to be a newbie like myself while the other seemed to be in jss3. The 'assumed' jss3 boy was the one fetching, water was gushing out of the tap as his bucket filled up with water, As he was about to pull his bucket, two ss1 seniors just appeared out of nowhere. They both were in white singlets and ash shorts, with muscles flexing like that of Muhammed Ali and with that, I immediately assumed they were members of the school athletics team.
I had always dreamt to be in the Loyola's football team while I aced my studies until Mumsy with her magic wand-like tongue changed it all. I now hoped to make it someday to the Federal Academy football Team.

Immediately they got there, one of them just fixed his bucket under the rushing tap despite that he met myself and two other newbies at the tap.
'Senior, you met me here sir' I said timidly.
The ferocious glance he sent our way was enough to quieten any further protests.

I had just been chanced.

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 10:00pm On Sep 02

'A Boy, last person!!!' A voice bellowed.

Everyone except myself ran towards the direction of the voice, while I hurriedly removed the 'senior's' bucket and replaced with mine instead.
I had heard tales of people being chanced while I was still in primary school. While it seemed like a good story then, it definitely wasn’t a pleasant experience.
In fact, I was very angry that someone would dare try to ‘chance’ and was even considering the possibilities of coming out alive if I fought him when he came back when an enraged voice pulled me out of my reverie.

"You did not hear 'a boy' abi?" The same voice asked sounding angrier now.
I looked around to see where the voice was coming from while I hoped I wasn't the one being referred to.
Lo and behold, it was Mustapha Kpangolo, the senior who was flogged in the assembly earlier today.
A cold wave of goosebumps washed over me as I closed my eyes, not believing my eyes and praying for the ground to open up and swallow me.
I was living my worst nightmare finally.
He was definitely going to punish me: I could see anger burning in his eyes with the I-AM-GOING-TO-KILL-THIS-BOY look pasted clearly on his face.
My village people 'sha' want to kill me today as I was too sure that he was going to 'maz' me like he did to the junior who reported him.
Different thoughts flew accross my mind but I particularly heard a cool, quiet voice saying, “Run little one”, but I knew trying that would be suicidal.

'Oya do frog jump con here' he commanded in pidgin as he held his ears in demonstration.
This was the height of it, no one has ever done this to me, I was definitely going to report him.
'Huun huun huun...' I made three jumps until...
Continue reading on https://collegeafrican.wordpress.com/2019/08/18/diaries-of-an-african-collegian-episode-8/

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 10:00pm On Sep 02

By 4:00pm sharp, I got to the assembly hall and met about 40 newbies like myself in the hall. Some had formed small groups as they discussed and argued animatedly about something while a few loners sat reading.
I quickly looked around for a chair and sat down with my legs crossed while I brought out my Chijoke Ugwu's Two to Tango. My mum had bought it for me as it had been one of the recommended texts for English literature but the Ministry of education had revised and changed the literature syllabus that year so we had to use Tade Adegbindin's The White Wizard instead.

I couldn't resist the 'new-book' smell as I brought the book close to my nose and inhaled deeply. I had started reading it earlier during break today as I had nothing to do and I wasn’t interested in the discussions ongoing around me at the time.
The book was a play with an Igbo palace setting which piqued my interest as I had an Igbo neighbor back at home who told me lots of Igbo stories.

I was so engrossed and even emotionally involved in the book that I almost got to finish the first chapter. Iyama, one of the main characters had revealed to Nwayo, her friend that she had been raped by her cousin, Anthony during her last visit to his house but telling her parents didn't help matters as they didn't believe her. I was furious at her parents’ response.

I hadn't read up to two pages when I got distracted by two boys seated about 5 steps from where I sat. I looked up ready to transfer my anger from Iyama’s parents to the source of distraction as I needed to concentrate.
Lo and behold it was Philip - the Light skinned boy who had shed tears earlier when he was scolded by Mrs. Umaru during our orientation earlier, gisting very loudly with Kunle.
I couldn’t help but burst into laughter when I sighted him.
'Hey, hello' I greeted him a little hesitantly.
'Na me u dy laugh shey?' he replied in pidgin.
He spoke pidgin so fluently that I wondered how he was such a scaredy-cat as I’d always known those who spoke it to have ‘liver’.
My mum had knocked it into my head that it was only bad boys that spoke Pidgin English, so I was discouraged from speaking it, however, Philip didn't in anyway look bad. In fact, he looked very innocent and harmless with his very small stature and I was starting to wonder how he even survived in his hostel.
I later learnt he lived in Warri.

'No nah, I just remembered something funny' I lied feigning seriousness. Well, at least I was good at telling lies.
'Okay, wetin you remember?' He asked trying to catch me off-guard as he smiled cunningly.
“My younger brother’s tricks” I replied almost immediately.
It wasn’t really a good lie but at least it got him to back off a little
He bit back a retort as his friend - Kunle brought out Whot cards while I wondered where he got them.

'Oya shuffle' Phil hollered as he...
Continue on https://collegeafrican.wordpress.com/2019/08/25/diaries-of-an-african-collegian-episode-9/


*Edited by DonWalte et King Davey*

1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 10:01pm On Sep 02

'W____o...' I started nervously but I was interrupted by the guy who’d served earlier this afternoon, 'Who will now take the extra meat?' He asked him, glaring at him.

'We are supposed to share it equally' the glass-guy replied hotly, gesticulating wildly.

'Guy, we no fit share anything, how you wan share am?' I asked.

The other 4 members of the table watched our back and forth with their faces tight with worry and tension; nobody on God’s green earth was going to make them give up the meat they’d already collected.
I finally had to share my extra meat with him as he wouldn't let go.


'Soon the dinner was over as the food prefect ended the meal with three gbangs of the bell.

I hurriedly made my way through the crowd as I rushed for the small door with Philip following closely.
I felt a tap on my shoulder as soon as I got outside.

I immediately jumped back startled, turning simultaneously to see who it was and ready to give whoever it was, a piece of my mind. This place was really messing with my nerves.
I couldn’t believe my eyes as I saw it was my neighbor back home in Ilorin, Aunty Bisola.

'John, so you are here? Mummy did not tell me you were coming here now' She grinned, holding my hands loosely.
'You are now a big boy ooh, how are you doing and your friend too?' She asked pointing to Philip. It’d been a while since she’d seen me. My mum had warned myself and my siblings about going to neighbors’ houses with a thrashing following the next time we defaulted. The message definitely sank and took roots so we were always indoors; thus making it almost impossible for her to see me even when she was on holidays.

I just stared at her, beaming with smiles. 'I am fine ma'.

'Be fine, hun, I will see you tomorrow' She waved, as she hurried off to catch up with her friends.
She was my first school Mother at FedAcad.


'A boy, last person' A voice growled as I and and others in the room ran towards the direction of the voice.
It was a dark skinned senior in an old faded Chelsea Jersey. We called him Senior Nebo.

'Who is the last person?' He asked.
We all looked at ourselves wondering who the last person was.

'Una no wan talk abi?'
Continue reading on https://collegeafrican.wordpress.com/2019/09/01/diaries-of-an-african-collegian-episode-10/

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 10:39pm On Sep 03
Y'all should kindly not forget to comment too ooh, I wanna know if we are following.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 11:14pm On Sep 05
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 6:45am On Sep 06
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 8:47am On Sep 06
Chai this kin school bah!!.


Typical African mothers always want to be the one to dictate how their children live their lives.


Good job Op your story make brain abeg.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:29pm On Sep 07
Chai this kin school bah!!.


Typical African mothers always want to be the one to dictate how their children live their lives.


Good job Op your story make brain abeg.

Thank you Hardes.�
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 9:32pm On Sep 07
More responses plsss�. I wanna know if we are following. Next episode drops tomorrow, hopefully.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 2:52pm On Sep 08

'Yellow House Boys!!!' A specific voice bellowed, I later learnt his name to be Adamu Andrew, he happened to be from Jos.

'Yellow house boooOooOys!!!'

It was a call and response chant, which we did in every hostel assembly.

'Jss1 boys!!! He shouted turning to us, the newbies as he bellowed in a friendly fashion this time.

'Yeeees' we responded,excitement and relief clearly branded on our faces especially after realizing it wasn't Soma who called for an assembly.

'I am Andrew, Prince of FedAcad' He grinned pompously and with so much authority that I started to wonder if he was the Deputy Head boy of the Academy.

'Who am I?' He questioned, to make sure we were following.

'Senior AndreeeW, Prince of FedAcad' we chorused in unison as our faces lit up in excitement, except for the 'normal' students who didn't seem to be moved.

I later learnt there was nothing like the Prince of FedAcad after all. Andrew was just a 'jagaban' in the Academy (he was also the 'Chieffo' of the biggest clique in school).

'That boy' He growled as he pointed in my direction which made me shrink in fear. I immediately mumbled a prayer hoping I wasn't the scape goat this time.

'Jesu!!! I am talking and this one is sleeping' he exclaimed as he made his way toward my direction.
Did he think I was trying to disguise my sleeping with my glasses? I wondered as my eyes suddenly became watery in anticipation of whatever punishment he was going to dish out.
Continue on https://collegeafrican.wordpress.com/2019/09/08/diaries-of-an-african-collegian-episode-11/

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 7:18pm On Sep 11
Enjoyed Episode 12?� Pls don't forget to comment.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 8:29pm On Sep 11
Thanks for the update.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 8:41pm On Sep 11
Nice story line but I think you need to work on the update.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 8:44pm On Sep 11
Nice story line but I think you need to work on the update.
I don't understand what you mean by working on the update. pls can you explain sir/ma?
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 8:47pm On Sep 11

I don't understand what you mean by working on the update. pls can you explain sir/ma?
Meant to say that the episodes are short.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 12:14am On Sep 16
Meant to say that the episodes are short.

OK, I will try�
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 12:15am On Sep 16

I was at a loss for what to do until a thought flashed across my mind to go to see Senior James.
I was walking briskly to his room, eyes brimming with tears spilling to leave streaks on my face and my head down to prevent others from seeing it when I suddenly heard my name.
I hesitated as the voice was familiar but I didn’t want anyone to see me on the verge of breakdown so I slightly turned my head to see who it was through the corner of my eye.

'Fawaz!!!' I hollered! He was the last person I had expected to see.

'What are you doing here?' I asked as my tears slowly dried up.

'I came to check on my brother' he replied in a soft voice. His fondness for his brother was immediately apparent and at that point I felt alone in the whole wide world.

'Where are you going? Have you taken your bath?' He asked.

'No, they 'vapped' my bucket of water' I replied him in a shaky voice as my tears built up again.

"It's no problem now, go and do rub and shine quickly; there is water scarcity ooh" He advised,

'Eh?! Rub and Shine??!!'

"Ehen, Rub and Shine" He grinned.

'Okay, thank you" I replied him courteously turning to head for my initial destination.

I couldn’t believe it! He was asking me to get a bowl of water and wash only my face and legs early in the morning?!
It wasn’t going to happen.

In a few seconds, I was in front of Heady's room.
'Kpom kpom kpom' I knocked his door.

'Yes? Who is there' He demanded in a sleepy voice.
'It's me Sir, John'
'Oh John, come in'

I opened the door and immediately cringed as it made a shrieking sound in the surrounding silence of the morning.

'What is it?' He asked as he wondered what brought me to his room that early morning.

'They have vapped my water' I replied him in a whiny voice.

'Oh sorry, pick up one bucket of water there' He pointed to about five buckets of water at one corner of his room and immediately went back to sleep

I’d at least expected him to ask some questions before giving me the water but he just given it to me without even a thought.


'The national anthem at the count of 1, 2...'
We chorused the anthem mindlessly after which the principal addressed us.

'Good morning students'
'Good morning Sir'

"I hope you had a good night rest" He asked as he sounded concerned of our welfare to which we responded a chorus 'Yessir';

He paused for effect to make sure he fully had our attention, seeming a little comical in his attempt to look severe and friendly at the same time.
Someone stifled a giggle.

'Some of you have really made the Academy proud as you qualified for the second round of the Nigeria spelling bee Competitions, we wish them the best in the upcoming rounds as we hope they make it to the final rounds'.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held it. He was really in his element today.

"As some are making us proud, some are shaming themselves because I’m not the one they are shaming. Two students were caught scaling the broken fence to the town two days ago." He announced, rage and indignation slowly etching onto his face.

Holding both sides of the pulpit, he looked at a piece of paper on and looking up to the sky as if he was about to proclaim the word of God, he bellowed:
'Chukwudi Samson!!!
Olawuyi Abdulrahman!!!
Come out!!!!'

The severity of the situation was lost as some of us couldn’t withhold the laughter anymore.
At the far end of the end of the podium, I sighted Mr. Festus as he rose and stretched his 'koboko' to its full length, a devilish smile on his face.

'They will be thoroughly lashed and afterwards face the disciplinary committee' The principal announced still holding the edges of his stand so firm as though he wanted to break them.

'Whaam whaam whaam...' Mr Festus lashed the first boy who I guessed to be Samson. I wasn't surprised when he just stood up without flinching, he dusted all 6 strokes.
It seemed once you got to the SS3 class, you were imbued with immunity to all form of lashings and floggings.
Every single SS3 student I had seen including Mustapha could 'dust' cane without even blinking.

With anger probably from the fact that Samson dusted his strokes, Mr. Festus lashed Abdulrahman more vigorously.
'Whaam wham papa whaam...' He lashed him without mercy and at that point even Abdulrahman knew he was in trouble, he was starting to jerk a little.

Still holding the edges of the pulpit, the principal bellowed, "This should serve as a warning to you all to never sneak out, I wonder what you go to the town to do.

Furrows forming on his forehead and his muscles expressed, Mr. Festus continued to thrash Abdulrahman. Everyone was silent as the sounds of the koboko filled the air.

'Whaam wham papa whaam whaam...' His whip danced back and forth on 'Rahman's now whimpering in pain trying hard to dust the lashes.

This was turning into a massacre.

"Hair style for neexxxt weeek" A group of female voices murmured.

Slowly, Mr. Festus' frown turned into a forced smile as he nodded his head to show affirmation that he was done and to their hair-style-for-next-week chant.

Abdulrahman clinging tightly to Samson limped off the podium.

"Okay, the hair style for next week." He reaffirmed, after which the Social prefect, a light skinned girl smartly dressed in her well ironed green skirt and white blouse with her stylishly placed Green Beret to match; walked up the stage gracefully.

"For those threading their hair, the hair style for next week is '7up' and for those plaiting their hair the hair style for next week is...." She was interrupted by murmurs which filled the air.

"Why the noise?" The principal asked.
"I hope you have heard, the hair style for next week is Shuku and base" He made the emphasis on the “shuku and base” to make the announcement sink.

"Now, The School Anthem at the count of Two!! Oone, Twooo..." He roared into the microphone as his voice blared out from the speakers.

"FEDACAD, the home of great talent..." We sang the School anthem, after which I heaved a sigh of relief.
Assembly was over.

However, I and the other newbies had to remain in the hall for our tiring orientation as we watched our seniors troop out of the hall in no particular order while we wondered when we were going to move into our classes.

As soon as we were the only ones remaining in the hall, our year head, Mrs. Umaru gaily dressed in pink iro and buba decorated with flowers walked up the stage as an unidentified voice shouted, "Up stand greet".
I really had to identify the owner of that voice.

"Good morning ma"

"Good morning students" She greeted us in her usual fake British accent.

"How was your night?" She sounded less British now.

'Fine ma' we chorused in unison.

"I along with the G&C unit would be showing you places in the Academy today" She announced as she gesticulated with her hands towards Mrs. Ayodele seated towards the back with her legs crossed along with a grey haired man seemingly in his early 60s.

"I want you all to be well behaved else you would be lashed" She said as she searched her hand held bag for her whip I guessed.

"Okay, can we move out of the hall now?
Now, move out in a straight line" She ordered as she moved her left hand to demonstrate a straight line.

"Phil, I am behind you ooh" I told Philip as I hurried to stand behind him.
"Hey! You are not here before", I heard a familiar voice shout as he tapped me.
I turned my neck to see who it was, Lo and behold, it was that same guy in glasses who wouldn't let go the meat the other day.

Enjoyed the episode?
Don't forget to drop your comments in the comment section.

*Edited by DonWalte*


1 Like

Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by Hardes(m): 11:25am On Sep 16
Thanks for the update.
Re: DIARIES OF AN AFRICAN COLLEGIAN - A SERIES. by hizeeksheun(m): 10:57pm On Sep 16
Thanks for the update.
Anytime. Thanks for commenting too.

(1) (Reply)

Get Rich Selling Information: / Need Some Books / Writting

(Go Up)

Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health
religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket

Links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10)

Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2019 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 406
Disclaimer: Every Nairaland member is solely responsible for anything that he/she posts or uploads on Nairaland.