INTRO: I RAN INTO AN OLD CLASSMATE SOME WEEKS BACK AND WE GREETED EACH OTHER THE WAY WE DO IT “FLOREAT”. WE TALKED ABOUT MANY THINGS AND HE RECALLED THOSE KC MOMENTS AND HOW MUCH HE MISSED THEM, I PROMISED HIM TO DO SOMETHING FOR KC OLD BOYS, KC BOYS, THOSE THAT HAVE AFFILIATION WITH THE SCHOOL, LOVERS OF STORIES AND THE WHOLE WORLD IN GENERAL. PLEASE ENJOY AS I BRING YOUR WAY ALL SORTS OF INCIDENTS IN EPISODES. ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE PURELY FICTIONAL, WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY FORM OF COINCIDENCE
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THE BOARDING HOUSE EPISODE 1: IN WHICH I GOT MY FIRST SLAP
“Uhm, the hostel life isn’t much fun sef” I thought to myself, “rubbish, total rubbish”. I had only been in the boarding school for six days and to tell the truth I wasn’t enjoying life. It felt like I was in a cage and in that cage, things could not just be done anyhow, those were things I referred to as rubbish.
The hostel life was entirely different from home life – the blasting sound of the siren went on at exactly 5.30am and immediately everywhere gets rowdy. If you were not used to that type of situation, you will be tempted to jump down from your bed and run for your dear life, perhaps the world was coming to an end, however if you’ve witnessed the situation more than once, you will know for sure that it meant it was time to bid sleep good bye, grab your slippers, your towel, your soap case and your bucket and head straight for the tap. On getting there, you will be surprised to find many other students already queued before you. In frustration, you will leave your bucket on the line and wait beside it till it gets to your turn. After having your bath, you get dressed and wait for the command of the next siren blast which stands for breakfast time. The dining hall was another place I hated. I did refer to the place as archaic and odd-looking. After breakfast, the next routine was assembly, followed by classes which ended and gave the students a little time to change into their house wears.
“Oh, those prisoner garments”, I cursed under my breath. I hated them with passion although I wondered how I would cope hating it since I was going to have them on for six years. In my words “six good years, man I better start loving these garments now”
My name is Donald Cole, the last child of Chief and Mrs. Cole. I was just about 1.2 meters tall as at the time I got into the boarding house. My brothers always joked that after eating beans for some years, I would grow taller and I had always gotten excited and anxious to eat the boarding school beans but here I am in the boarding school and I had gotten tired of it all in just six days.
I floated in my thoughts for long and all these while I sat on my box and faced my locker which was on the corridor of the hostel. I didn’t have many friends at the moment.
“A boy” I heard suddenly, “a boy on the corridor, last boy”. The strong voice came from the hostel room. Immediately everybody on the corridor ran into the hostel room while I sat still there brooding over what just happened, don’t blame me, I couldn’t explain what made them run in such speed; uncertain of what to do next I remained calm on my box.
“Is your father a bastard?” Senior Efe yelled “abi you no hear a boy”. Efe advanced towards me and in a twinkle of an eye landed me a terrible slap.
The effect of the slap was so maddening that it gathered tears into my eyes – hot tears waiting to rush out, just blink and that would be all.
Unable to say a word, I kept mute and shook terribly.
Efe looked angry and he raised his hand again to land his palm on my cheeks, just as he was about to give me another slap Senior Matt showed up and held Efe’s hands.
“Efe, how far na?” Matt queried Efe, “you no sabi that Donald boy…na JSS 1 boy, him dey hin week of grace nau, haba!”
Efe knew what the statement meant and turned back “I no sabi now, as I call a boy wey him no answer nko”, he said easily as he turned back and left with no word of apology for me. I sobbed within.
“Junior boy, sorry” Matt pulled me closer and just immediately I felt so sorry for myself and all the tears hiding behind my eyelids rushed out as I burst into tears. I had gotten my first slap after six days.
In my diary I wrote: “Donald, welcome to the boarding school, thanks to Senior Efe”
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