I’ll tell my story.
I was a below average student in Chemistry passing it just once in the first term of SS1. We relocated from Lagos to Ota after that term and I had to switch. Resuming in the new school, which uses credit passes for promotion (you’ve got to have 5C’s to get to the next class). At the end of third term, I fell short by one and was give a conditional promotion to SS2. Throughout the five terms I would score D,E or F but I didn’t relent. Chemistry was the subject I read the most but failed woefully.
First term SS3, I decided to take the bull by the horn. I walked up to my Chemistry teacher and demanded master copies of his handwritten exam questions spanning 3-5 years. He obliged after his embarrassing gaze. Can any good come out of Nazareth?
I would take it during the weekend and return Monday morning at the Lab. On this fateful Monday morning, I defaulted. There was no way out for me. Exactly thirteen years ago today, Friday, 08th February 2013. my sweet elder sister was doing the laundry and out of goodwill she picked my school bag emptied it and threw it in the washing basin without my knowledge.
Our house had no fence at that time and I could see the bag on the line upon entering our street. I froze!
Pieces of paper with red ink littered the tiny compartment of the bag and I just began crying outside. She didn’t check that part. The longest weekend of my life, I cried even during church service because I knew the consequence.
11th, February 2013. I didn’t report with his question paper and marking guide (he began helping with that after slight improvements). Call me Okorie. I lied.
After the three day expiration of my grace period. I told him the truth.
O NI SE RUE MO, LAYE!
Every time the bell rang for break, I reported to the Chemistry Lab to be given a dozen lashes of the rubber gas hose (what connects your gas cylinder to the stove or cooker) on my back while kneeling. I would come home with a torn back. On the third day, mummy noticed and said, “Don’t hate him”. I knew she wasn’t going to come to school to appeal.
It continued for a week until the 20th, February 2013.
We always take the same Afobaje road before parting ways. I was uncomfortable walking beside him this particular day so I overtook him. I felt a gentle nudge in my spirit, help him. He had a laptop bag filled with scripts and books, no laptop and on the other hand another bag, I couldn’t tell what’s in it. I offered to help him carry the heavier one and his countenance fell. He melted.
Thursday, 21st February 2013.
There was a stillness in his voice during class that day. Chemistry was before break. Five minutes to the end of the class. There is someone I want to publicly pardon in this class, Okorie stand up! You offered to help where you could easily hate me for being intolerant of your carelessness. He narrated the secret ordeal that had transpired between us for two weeks and admonished me for being different. I wasn’t the only student who walked past him yesterday but I chose love instead of hate. Do not report to the lab during your break for whipping any longer but I won’t help you with my question papers anymore.
HE undid the heavy burdens and I was set free! Thank you Sir. Thank you very much.
That was the end of the assault and the final time he laid his hands on me.
I’m not completely a fan of AFTV or all the things they do but I can’t lie, this song slaps. Don Robbie had to remind everyone he was a reggae artiste back in the day.