Double standards. Same people who educated us about examination malpractices were asking us to make contributions to bribe invigilators because same invigilators who reminded us before the exams rules we were not to break, realized some broken rules could be mended with money. It was a chain and only the dumb ones were fed the rules to uphold.

As preparations for the exam intensified, so did the loneliness and doubts of success. I learnt hard but I wondered if I would make it. I tried to not think about the ifs.

A few weeks to the exams, families were coming to see their children, to encourage them, pray for them and most importantly, bring them good food from the house. I stood on the last floor of the classroom block, watching. The love. The affection. The encouragement. The sense of belonging. And up there I stood, alone. No one was here to see me. My family members were miles away.

When I got hungry, I had to assist the school caterer. It was my sure way of securing my daily meals. After long hours of group studies, my friends were surprised to find me in the school canteen when they came to get their food. I was soaked in sweat and stains of cooking oil while washing used pots and pans, plates and spoons.

“Why would you do that? “ they asked, not knowing that hunger can induce humility in the toughest ram.

” I’m just helping… ” I would tell them.

But the rest of the story, I kept to myself.

Then came the more embarrassing moments when students in lower levels I used to organize tutorials for had to contribute and buy food for me to eat. I had to swallow my pride while swallowing those morsels.

High school was a mixture of good and bad times… In good measure, shaken together like a mixture in a bottle such that you’re unable to tell what new name to be given to the new taste.

There were days we shared gossip circulating in the school. Responsible-looking teachers who secretly raped female students in the staff common room or in their bungalows. Nobody ever arrest them or punish them. Either the girls are too embarrassed to report or too scared of the consequences to inform their parents.

There was one time some parents were in the general office threatening to arrest one teacher and the school authorities were pleading on his behalf, the culprit too arrogant to kneel and beg.

There were these big boys in the school that were too tough for any teacher to knead into their perfect model of a responsible student.

There were even rumors that the school owner founded the school on blood money, money made from develish rituals.

Rumors only God above could certify with His mighty pen.

All kinds of happenings and stories.

I missed all the times we flocked a friend who had hot gossip to share. About some mischief they were involved in at home and got the beating of their life for it or some girl they’ve been trying to win without success.

There was this story of the chaplain prefect who proposed to a girl and got bounced, our way of saying rejected. They said for days he wouldn’t talk to anyone, wouldn’t eat and wouldn’t even conduct worship services on Wednesday mornings. It was the story of the month of exams. It made us have a good laugh and release stress as we prepared for our papers.

Lots of fake questions were roaming on various WhatsApp platforms. It was on the D-day we could verify what was genuine and what was fake.

And surely the D-day did come, slowly but surely did it come.

Some papers were difficult and some were easy. We heard that some students were caught cheating in exams and their papers were canceled.

With God’s help and grace, we wrote our exams till the very last day. Many of the leaked questions were fake, except one.

Thankfully, it was the most difficult subject, Mathematics. In such circumstances,  leaked questions, code named  “Jah” among the students, were such a relief.

On the final day of exams, there was this mood of joy and happiness and excitement undescribable!

When I came out of the exam hall, I was greeted with the sight of many students kneeling on the floor, hands raised in gratitude to the God of Heaven who had protected them for the four years of high school, merciful enough to protect them from external invigilators lurking behind classroom windows for students who cheated in exams.

That day I couldn’t sleep. I roamed and danced and sang. Even while in bed, my eyes stayed wide awake till dawn. Joy could keep one awake for hours, dissipating every fibre of fatigue in the body.

It was now time for the long wait before the exam results are released. We had done our best and now the rest was in the hands of God and the examiners.

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