[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

8 years ago

[Story] Love, Lust And Lost

Day:- Thursday (Holy Thursday)
Significance:- Last day at the Junior School.

At the Osborne School Complex were erected six(6) schools. The walls of the complex weren’t that tall, you could easily see the schools driving on the bridges that headed upward, as though you were driving towards Ikoyi Blue Ocean or Victoria Island Amusement Park, Lagos. The other bridge on the left seemed to head towards the famous Sura market with two joint bridges, one leading to the Third mainland bridge, while the other to Dolphin Estate.

There beneath the bridge was a boulevard, very close to the complex wall. The trees, shrubs and grasses seemed to glorify themselves with the dew that fell earlier that day; and the present rays of the sun that shone on them.

If it were to be just a school that admitted the characters in this novel, it would have been more interesting but it was six schools spaced in same complex.

The tall black gate with topped sharp iron edges protruding above it was the main gate that led into the Wahab High School. There were two other gates; the almost collapsed brown gate that led into the Government College Ikoyi and the newly erected, – unpainted gate which led into the Akande Dahunsi and Ilado Community High School, still in same complex.

It was mid-April. The very last day of school for all the students of Wahab Folawiyo Junior School but most especially the JSS3 students who had just finished their Junior WASSCE.

The Bell had been rung about 3minutes ago for the closing hour of the last day at school. All students that had anticipated the `Wrang! Wrang!! Wrang!!!’ of the bell stood at the balcony, some at the banisters of the first and second floor of the school building.

The school was painted the usual cream and blue of every government schools in Lagos state.
Some students lobbied at each bars of the burglary that safe-guarded the school hall, which accomodated the youthful bodies of the JSS3 students who were dancing to the popular `yahooze’ music by Olu Maintain.

The music stopped abruptly soon as the bell was rang and all students trooped to the assembly ground in numbers.

The school building stood in form of an imperfect `C’ shape with its two edges in the form of square rather than a curve. The very space it left in its middle was enough to assemble more than 500 students if it were possible to be the only school in the complex offering admission to newly graduated primary 6 students.

The assembly was demarcated with tyres buried half-way beneath the earth, on two sides leaving a path to tread along the middle.

As the students gathered, the Terminalia Catappa (Indian Almond) also known as the Fruit tree seemed to be rejoicing as the wind blew, – it would be free of sticks, shoes and stones the students threw at it, of the next 4-5 weeks of vacation.
The tree stood providing shades like every umbrella of those airtime (recharge card’s) sellers on various route in Lagos, for the students.

There was a raucous voice of “mind the flowers, you cockroaches” from Ms Iton the English Language teacher amidst the the scent of green lilies and yellow ficus flowers planted to decorate the school garden.

“Shut your trap” from Mrs Oladipupo the Integrated Science teacher seemed to have address the students noise and yells, gist and gossips.

Adefemi George, a 14years old boy stood on the line meant for the JSS3 white students, with his ebony skin in tune with the warmth of the spring. He wore his school uniform, his green and white stripe shirt; a tie knot on it like a Bank manager, a green trousers and socks slightly showing at the tip-end of his trousers; – his grandpa dash me clack-shoes on his foot.

In his face, you could see the expression of `i’m one of the most handsome in this school cause black is beautiful’, his teeth flashing against his skin and jaw giving him one of the beautiful feature of a popular ghanian actress.

All the JSS3 students were in their school uniforms as the principal in her strict and bird-like voice had said “no mufti is allowed for your party. You are only moving to the Senior School, so I see no reason why you shouldn’t put on your uniforms.”

The students seemed to have savoured the respect it would mean to put on the white on white Senior School uniform, with a light-green tie, – on a black shoe. It meant so many things to them. To some, it was merely the respect while to others, it was more than respect. It would mean being on the same level with Kings’ College and St. Gregory’s College students.

It was a long sleeve and the badges were not sown to the school uniform. Safety-pin were used in tagging the wool-like badges to the white uniforms. Different things appeared to be going through Adefemi’s mind apart the glory the uniform would bring.

It was 3years ago, in the year 2005, he had written the Federal and State Common Entrance Examination. He passed the two and was called up for interviews which he had wrote the exam too. He had expected a positive reply in both interviews until that fateful afternoon he went to a near by cafe to check his admission status.

Kings’ College Lagos:- No admission given

Federal College Badore:- No admission given

He wept from the cafe to his house that his clothes were soaked as though he had fallen into the lagoon.

“They had sold your result to one of those private school dull headed student” someone consoled him.

You could say `what a consolation?’ but it was evident as a girl called Kemi, – the daughter of his Headmistress and another Yewande. Both were from a private school but had come to write with their school and were both offered admission.

He almost broke-down when he was informed they had decided all those that failed the interview or were not offered admission were to attend the Dolphin High School on the Lagos Island.

“That rascal school,” he had said.

It was the suggestion of his uncle that he should be worked into Wahab High School that had saved him from attending the pronounced rascal school.

The day he was to resume for the first time at Wahab had been imagined, would have been the best day of his life. He had bought cutlass, bucket, broom, tissue-paper and harpic. He had thought Wahab to be a boarding school. He wore his black-baggy, ash T-shirt and shoe as he had been informed by the school principal being a new student, – pending when the school tailor would come take his measurement for a uniform.

It was the time he got to the school and wasn’t offered bed-space or shown to an hostel that had got him disappointed and spoilt the presumed would-be best day of his life.

“Good afternoon stu—-dents” of Mr Falade seemed to have jolted him back from the train of thoughts. He removed his hands from his side pockets.

Mr Falade was used to stressing all the last words of the sentences he made as though he were swallowing a very strong improperly-made lump of fufu. His agricultural classes were always a joy to be in, – with the way he spoke and his expression.

“The principal said she would be unavailable to address you today and most importantly the JSS3 Stu–u-dents” he emphasized, b@nged his right hand on the iron railings and spoke on.

“I hope you will all be a good students at the Senior School as you were here. Once your results are out, we would communicate it to your Year Tutor.” He inquired gesticulating with his hand from a woman who came out of the principal’s office on the first floor “may God help you all,” he concluded and left.

Adefemi adjusted where he stood, resting on his left leg and smiles ran out his cheeks as he glanced around the assembly ground to `eyes-search’ the person that made him smile.

He met Zainab Y’s gaze, Halimats’, Fatimahs’ and Victor’s, – perhaps they were not who his eyes searched for. He lifted his neck a little, standing on his toes and there was he, – his face seemed to acknowledge when he saw Kazeem, the most funniest guy he’s ever met.

To Be Continued….