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nope! never heard of it, ever!

Chapter One (part 2)

Lying at the corner of the adjoining wall by the right, was fair skinned Okbe. His slightly curved legs, which were the fastest in the school, looked broken and there was an ugly gash by his temple, buzzing with flies. The 3 junior students sitting beside him and close to the door looked whole. Only dried up tears, lining their cheeks indicted that they had also been beaten mercilessly by the men.

Obi, a boy with a slightly stout physique, Obi the smart, Obi the ill-luck was next and his eyes rested on him, It was believed that he had an ill-luck and so far it seemed true, through his parted split lips one could see that one incisor was off. This was as a result of a kick he had received on the mouth. It had been more than 6 hours ago that they had been beaten mercilessly yet blood was still dripping slowly from his mouth. And his lovely pocket dictionary and Canon Camera in particular which had put them into this trouble were no more with him.

John’s eyes passed on Obi’s classmate, talkative Ifeanyi, alias ete which in Yoruba meant big lips. He had such enormous lips…Tolu,…the two Topes- Tope Adehoya the glutton and Tope Martins-,…then the peacemaker in the bus,… the little girl that had told them stories of her Father’s soldierly exploits…and four other J.S.S 1 students who were all in School uniforms that now looked bloody and dirty. He turned his body to have a better look at them for most of them were on his side of the wall and he felt a pain. Then his eyes settled on himself and he thought of how he, particularly his face looked with all the beating he had also received. His body had only few cuts and bruises but the pain he felt inside his head was much. He tried to soothe the pain he felt in his nose with his hand and remembered that his hands, like those of every other student here, were still tied behind him. He couldn’t even feel them, as the thinly copper wires used, had bitten deep into his skin and had greatly reduced the flow of blood to them.

“Am I going to die, at nineteen?” He asked loudly. Then quiet silently he continued “When I’m just beginning to enjoy life… Well! I deserve it. When all my mates in other schools are busy candling and jacking their books in preparation for the forthcoming Senior School Certificate Exam, I decided to go on a stupid excursion that is now bringing me to death.“…and to die so young, so fresh, so unfulfilled. To be murdered by these crazy unthinking men without achieving my ambition of becoming the President of my country one day, without seeing my Mom, Pop, Brothers or Sisters, without seeing Obiageli…Oh Oby! Oby, the love of my life look at what has happened now. Look at the end of our relationship. Look at the result of denying ourselves the fun, we promised each other, which is only going to leave a vacuum in your heart. I can’t touch your beautiful face again. I can’t see your unselfish smile again or hear again your mellifluous voice or romance you with the intimacy only the two of us are privy to.

“Yes Oby…yes Oby! I’m going to be killed, to die in Bauchi State, far away from Lagos State where you’re. I will be buried but my killers wouldn’t be found out. Oh – oh Oby… But wait I think I can still escape. The window!, No it is locked. You see, this is the last place I would ever practice and sharpen my leadership skills. The last place I would ever see. The last time I would ever talk to you…No I have to survive, for Obiageli’s sake, for the sake of Nigeria, for my family’s sake…But how? How can I survive when I brought myself this problem?, No. I ’m not the one, is it evil to go on a School excursion? No! Then who brought this problem, this death, this predicament that the thirty one of us are facing right now?”

He closed his eyes and then his mind traveled back in time, in the bid to find out who brought it, how, what went wrong and where.

* * *

It had all started in Lagos State – Orile Iganmu, to be precise – in a government owned Secondary School, very close to my house. It was a Monday morning, first term, and the Students in their crisp clean yellow and green stripped uniforms were all lined up for assembly according to their classes. After the usual songs, prayers and Anthems, led by the delectable Science Teacher, Miss Peche Ado, who never tired of preaching against students’ vice-especially their fighting and abusing habits whenever she got the chance, The school principal, Mr. Rence Dagunro, a short- fat, jovial yet serious man with grey hair and a moustache, Who was wearing a native wear, - instead of his usual corporate wear – a yellow Agbada embroidered with purple threads around the neck and edges, mounted the podium. He cleared his throat and greeted,
“Good morning students”
“Good morning, Sir,” Chorused the students
“I hope you had a jolly weekend. If you didn’t I did.” He laughed, then continued shortly “Without wasting more time or repeating what our delectable Miss Ado has said… Heiyh! Heiyh! You there, No! That diminutive-thing-of-a-boy there, besides that girl in beret,” shouted the Principal pointing. “Yes! You come up here. Next time when I’m talking you’ld learn to keep quiet”. The culprit when up to the Podium and some fiery strokes were meted out to his palms before he knelt to await more punishment. “As I was saying, you know the school is preparing for her annual excursion…, ”
“Y-e-e-e-a-h!” exclaimed the students in pure joy and excitement. Everyone began to whisper something to the person closest to him/her. It took some time before the principal quietened them once more. He continued, “…As many of you know it is an annual event. Last year, the school went to…” he left the other parts of his sentence inside him throat, for the students to fill in the blank “Iresam foods Company, Ibadan”, they filled in.
“Manufacturers of your favourite …, ”
“Sugarcane fruit drink and sugar cube.”
“Good! Two years ago we visited the famous National arts theatre, and National stadium but this year we’re going to visit the Yankarry game reserve, at Alkalahari, a town in Bauchi State.
“Yeaaaaah!” yelled the Students once more.
“We’re going to spend just 3 days there and this time the excursion is partly sponsored by the Lagos State government. If you wish to go you’ll have to pay a hundred Naira each. This is for lodging and refreshment. Start paying to your respective class teachers as from Tomorrow.” A seconds pause, then “any questions?”
A boy raised his hands up “When are we going sir?”
“Before the end of the term, that is, after your Exams – Approximately eight weeks from now.”
“And when sir! Is the closing date for payment?” continued the boy.

CHAPTER ONE (part 1)

A guinea fowl crowed in the distance, waking the sun up from his slumber. He rose languidly from his bed in the horizon, exploding a brilliant sunshine and greeting everything in the Savanna Good Morning! As his golden drops caressed them, giving life to the Living things and Death to the dead things: giving life to the day animals and plants and bidding the nocturnals good night. He cajoled the night to sleep, for the Day’s turn in watching the world in watching the deeds of men, animals and plants, even the deed of the dead as he took his seat comfortably in the sky.

Morning, found all the students, except one, still in their slumber, their body too weak to respond to the greetings of the sun, sneaking in through the rims and slits of the closed wooden windows into their small dark room. John was the only one responding. John, the Assistant Senior Prefect of the school, who was tall and handsome, in a now dirty, white shirt and blue jean Trousers; whose interests in life alternated between girls, particular Obiageli and studying, was wide awake and like the sun, was watching over his fellow students. They were either lying or sitting in awkward postures by the walls of the small room. His elderly eyes traveled round from one student to another. It rested momentarily on the student on the left side of him, Aminu Gwagda.

Aminu Gwagda was in the same class, Senior Secondary School 3 (SS3), as John and had recovered earlier, during the night from his unconsciousness, but had fallen again into another era of unconsciousness, as a result of the beating he received during the “who told you? How did you know? And who else knows?” interrogation. This had added more wounds to his already mauled slim body; a bleeding arm and a cut behind the ear.

John’s eyes swept from Aminu to the person sitting next to him on the same wall, Paulinus. Congealed blood was caked from the corner of Paulinus’s mouth down to his chin and on his brow, nose and right arm. His mouth looked swollen and John wondered how he managed to sleep in that twisted position that he sat.

Next at the corner of the adjoining wall, still by John’s left, was Chijioke. The eleven years old, J.S.S.1 boy had nothing to show that he had also been beaten thoroughly. Next huddled together by the left of Chijioke were the twins; Taye and Kehinde, the two petite J.S.S.1 girls were sleeping in each other’s arms. “They must have been consoling themselves before they fell asleep,” thought John.

Then, his eyes glanced over at stoical Emeka, the bully, as he was secretly and resentfully nicknamed. Tall and masculine like a married man, more like a father. His face was all swollen. Congealed blood was caked all over his body; it was on his mouth, nose, his stubbly cheeks, arms, thigh and foot. His yellow big boy T- shirt was torn in several places and his pockets were turned inside out. The five foot Nine inches (5.9ft) tall boy – young man – looked shorter in his bounds and the way he sat.

Tunde’s face was concealed by Emeka’s legs as he lay in a horizontal awkward pose and John guessed what it looked like with the severe beating he had received, coupled with the fact that he had a volcanic temper John believed it would have been much. His school uniform now looked like something soaked in blood. “Was he still alive?” John wondered as he could barely see his chest heave.

His wandering eyes came to rest on two J.S.S 3 students; Born-again Shola, who was lying prostrate and the other…he didn’t know her name… “Yes! I remember. Bisi! Bisi was her name yes, she is the one! The one that had had a crush, earlier in the term, on Okbe. Yes! Yes!, and she was also the same girl that came to school every week with a life-size huggable teddy bear until the principal seized it one day and tore the teddy bear to shreds. She was still maturing, exactly the height and age usual of children in that class. She will turn into a damsel soon” were all John’s thought. He looked at Shola again and said quietly to himself “After all Amano, his father wouldn’t complain.”

Chinwe, by the wall opposite John’s, stirred and his eyes wandered to her direction. He stared at the seventeen years old, SS3 student, who didn’t look seventeen, more like nineteen or twenty. Her beautiful face was now swollen and her hair disheveled. He looked her over again and his eyes nestled on her full, firm and provocative breasts. He knew the men would have toyed with them during the beating and would’ve done the same to those of her neighbour, the self-conscious adolescent girl, Sandra, who was one year younger in age and in class and whose face was now all swollen and bloody.

His eyes passed on to Matthew, Matthew Igbo as he was fondly called and he chuckled as he remembered Matthew’s last words ever since they were captured ‘person no go talk again’. The plump, short S. S. 2 boy had since then retreated into his shell. His pimples dotted face looked like a smashed pie, sprinkled with blood.

Next was Issah Hayatu, an SS 2 science student, who had eyes that had been blackened around the edges by blows, and lips that were swollen beyond recognition and smeared with blood just like those of his two classmates, Dare (who was renowned as having only two exercise books, as his whole educational material, which he always stuck in the back pocket of his uniform’s pair of trousers. No bag, no text books, nothing more, just two exercise books) and Kemi. Kemi, who was Tunde’s girlfriend, also had in addition, cane markings on her tender angel-like skin.

Hi! pls I need more comments endorsements, rave reviews, rants, criticisms for my next book, Savannah Adventures; the book is about a school excursion that went awry, its abt all the pranks you played in Sec. School, Adventures, Teenage Love, Responsibility, fear and so many other things (I am the worst Descriptor/ synospsist, when it comes to describing my book ).

interested in providing a review, feel free to make a comment here or at www.siscocom/books and I will send it to you. Here are the first two chapters.

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can't anyone help.

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ok almost on my kness.

i am ur worst Nghtmare

just joking.
actually i am a young blossoming writer.
does getting to know who I am matter in u offering me a helping hand?

do you know the best ways I can contact her?

Pls anybody knows the whereabouts of Chimamanda?
Is she presently in the country?
know her e-mail/ phone or that of her publicity manager?
I Need a blurb from her on my forthcoming book.

will apr8 the help gr8ly.

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MEN YOU ARE A BORN WRITER.
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