The memory still haunts me till this day. I know it’s funny, but it is what it is. Back then in 2007, I just entered into jss1 in one of the boarding schools in Ebonyi state. I did not understand my new world, everything seemed so strange and uptight. Boarding school schedules was a harsh drift from the reality I was used to, it didn’t care if I liked it or not, it didn’t care how it affected me, it just forced me to accept it. It seemed I had been taken from a pleasant bed of flowers and plunged into a dark abyss. The monotonous school schedules was very irritating, the harsh sound of the rising bell by 5am, the horrible cold during bath time in the open, the tiring morning masses, the long boring lectures, the wearying afternoon prayers, the very short siestas, the afternoon preps, the tough evening labors, the evening prayers, the awful foods, the hellish bullying from seniors, the lengthy night prayers, the ugly night prep and the intense punishments by the school authorities in the name of discipline and training were all cycles and cycles of sore too tormenting for a vibrant lad like me who grew up playing soccer on the streets to Enugu, going to catechisms and block rosary just to chase after girls and engaging in street wars with my gangs, this sudden new life was not what I wanted, I wanted to be free because I had always been free, I started nursing the idea of running away but who or where did I know in a land far away from home. It was too risky a venture as I might get lost or even kidnapped so I decided to endure, hoping to get used to the system but with each passing day, coupled with the fact that nothing seemed to change, the depression became more and more severe that I started keeping to myself and spoke only few words per day. I knew I wasn’t the only one on the boat, newbies like me were all scared, punishments were so severe even for the slightest offence, uncertainty hung in the air like a mist.

Then, out of all these anguishes, like a beautiful sunrise after a very dark gloomy night was the school visiting day which only occurred once in a month. This was the best day of the month in the life of every student so preparations were blown out of proportion, we usually prepared as if it was our last day on earth. Day wear shirts and shorts were usually washed and ironed neatly, hairs combed thoroughly, books in lockers arranged meticulously in case over zealous parents decided to check how their wards were faring with studies, and the school compound swept thoroughly. This was the only day laugher, happiness and hugs overshadowed the gloomy cloud of uncried tears. Students were happy to reunite with their loved ones once again. The first visiting day, I still remember how I clung to my mother’s dress, crying and pleading that she should take me home, that I was tired of the school and couldn’t cope again, but she wouldn’t hear of it, I was devastated, nevertheless, I was happy she came, at least she brought me provisions.

The second visiting day, which was the following month, after the usual hassle of preparation, I waited and waited for my mum but there was no sign of her, I started to panic, was this woman thinking of not coming to visit me, did she not know I had been looking forward to this day like everyone else. I rushed to the school phone and dialed her line. When she picked, I asked her of her whereabouts, she apologized and told me she wouldn’t be coming, that she was in Imo state for a conference, that she would make it up to me. She thought she was still talking to me, she didn’t know I had fainted. I woke up hours later in the school sick bay to the sound of the bell for evening prayers, poor me started to cry, I cried the whole evening and the whole night. I could not believe my mother did not come to visit me, the worst part of it was that my provisions were almost finished, I could not stop crying, I was even flogged mercilessly the following morning for coming late for morning mass. I couldnt believe only one person could have all these fate.

Even till my ss3, I still felt sad whenever my mother missed any visiting day for me even though I didn’t cry any longer, I was already a senior and had to show some sort of maturity.
Share how you reacted the first day your mother missed visiting day.