“Jet! Wake up.”
I felt someone slap me sharply on the thigh repeatedly as the words were spoken in hushed tone. My corner was dark, as the hostel lights were still out; it obviously wasn’t yet 5:30am. The school generator came on at 5:30 every morning. I drew myself up and sat groggily, my both legs still on the bed.
“Guy! Standa nah…” the voice hushed again.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my palms and leaned forward to make out who was speaking. My corner in the dormitory was at one of the four edges of the long hall-room and my bed was the lower of the two-deck bunk, thus I had even less light as the top bed layer darkened my space.
“what is the matter?” I asked, still unaware of who was speaking, this time bringing my feet down.
“ Jetti, dress-up! Where’s your white canvas?” I was asked again.
I then recognized who was speaking, it was my good friend Enrico Egwoh.He fondly called me “Jet”or jetti’ after the famed Japanese martial arts actor, Jet li. A name I gladly accepted, since I fancied myself as natural born martial art aficionado and could do one or two stunts to keep the flag flying though few called me that, others preferred the accursed name 'cassava mosiac' . A nick name like Jet li in a boarding house, where everyone was given some ridiculous nickname, was most welcome. If you had any prominent unpleasant body feature in the eye, ear, head, you were given a name to “announce the shame.” If you escaped being named after a body anomaly, you instantly got a name from any embarrassing event like “spatula!”-given to John Duruaku, when he couldn’t tell what the tool was used for when asked by the fine Arts teacher. The most embarrassing nick name being the name given to any girl who under went the scourge of scabies (called “scrotchi” or “craw-craw) and recovered with the black spots of the scars on her legs, she, no matter how beautiful became “Miss scro-mgbagbu!” “Jet” or “Jetti,” was thus by far noble and an honour.
“I hear today is last duty!” Enrico hushed again, more impatiently this time. “Where’s your canvas & stockings?”
At the sound of the words “last duty”, I was not only fully awake, I was keenly alert-my emergency mode had kicked in. Prefects at FGC Okigwe, helped the school authority in conducting student in line with the highly regimented school daily routine. They did that mildly most times, but when the body of prefects were said to be “on duty” –it meant unnecessary strict adherence to even the tiniest rules that could get even the most compliant student in default for some good beating. When prefects were on duty, school got ‘hot’ and bottoms got sore from much flogging. The “bloodiest” of these prefect “duties” was the “last duty”- their final acts of flogging and insanity before unofficially dropping responsibilities to SS2 students to face their WAEC.
“Last duty?” I asked while frantically searching for my canvass and stockings. “Who hold you?” I queried. It was a cold Wednesday morning; the school routine included early moving jogging on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday. The bell, usually, was sounded at 5.45an and students assembled at the school car park by 6am before the exercise was started. But if it was a prefect duty day, the floggings started once the bell was rung. I quickly found my white canvass and stocking I had the school sports shorts but the jersey was missing! Bad timing! On duty days, prefect checked everything-I mean EVERY THING. That way, very small, a fraction, of students escape every form of beating available. Just then, the school generator; a large highly dismembered mechanical power plant roared to life. It was 5:30am. In a short while the prefects, using the rising bell as their cue would go on rampage-if the info my friend had told me was true. Nobody waits around to verify such news.
Chinonso Asuzu, a short, fair complexioned bulky boy joined us at the dormitory door as we quietly began to head-out, he had overheard our discussion. As a tradition, last duty days were closely guarded secrets- the element of surprise on junior student was an important ingredient of the mix. Though short, Chinonso was one of the strongest boys in our class, he kept a serious face and joked very little. He was “complete” unlike I; he had the sports wear shirt and shorts, white stockings and a canvass. The three of us, Enrico, Chinonso and I walked quietly into the darkness away from the light of the electric bulbs of the dormitory.
As we turned from the sharp bend of the hostel blocks, we could see human silhouettes in the dim moon light, in a circle, clustered at a corner of the road. Prefects! “Come back!” Chinonso muttered, simultaneously pulling Enrico and I back. We all squatted and quietly began to withdraw, back the way we had come. We could follow the other way round the back of the hostel to the assembly point instead. We had moved back just three paces when the school bell rang. “Gam! Gam!!” “Gam! Gam!!” That was the last sane sound I was to hear that moving. Suddenly, bright light from rechargeable torches flashed right at us from the distance.
“Those boys! Lie down flat” came the voice from behind the torch.
Almost like you turned on a switch, the hostel came alive-in screams and loud lashes from elastic gmelina tree branches- the most abundant cane source in the school compound. At the sound of the bell, the prefects had begun jumping into hostels from various windows granting the sleeping students a literal rude awakening. It was a no-holds¬-barred flogging fiesta; the blunt flat sides of cutlasses were also used on students.
“Lie down there you badgers!’ the voice bellowed again, sounding more menancing.
From my squatting position, I made to place my both palm on the ground in a bid to lie down when I noticed I was to obey that command alone! My companions had taken to their heels. Enrico must have dashed into the hostel quadranole, joining the confused mass of students fleeing in all direction from the ravaging menace of prefects emotionally charged with the prospect of flogging for the last time before they left the college. I could hear loud repeated thuds quickly receding as the heavily built Chinonso made straight for the bushes near where hostel members had their bath every morning. I was not about to die in my honesty, in a split second I was up and fleeing at tremendous speed.
It was still dark and the school compound was quite huge having many uncultivated land that had developed into a mini-tropical rain forest with, possible attendant wild life species present. We ran into the bush without a second thought for our safety. I caught up with Chinonso and sped past as be wasn’t paving a pathway quick enough. There was no track road or bush path, we just ran through the tall haze of variegated vegetation, cutting and tearing ourselves as we ran. We would have slowed down or stopped once in the safety of the thick bush had we not had one of the torches on our trail. Obviously offended by our blatant disobedience of the order to “lie down”, the prefect behind the torch had singled-us out for the kill.
The bushy terrain was difficult. On many counts; it was dark, some parts were swampy and made to swallow the leg, shrubs, stubs, sticks and thorns made several tiny cut all over the body as we meandered through the bush. I darted this way and then that way, pressing against intertwined network of wall of leave to find which posed the least resistance. There was little time to think and our pursuer was gaining on us. “I can see you guys!” came the voice “It’s over, just stop right there!” The bushes were high and shielding to some degree; we had some cover.
The torch was flashing in several directions as the voice spoke. I recognized the prefect who had that voice, senior Jally jay, the dinning hall prefect. He was athletic and represented his house in the past inter house sports competition. Continuing our race would be futile, he was persistent and would continue the chase I reasoned. While still running I told Chinonso who swerved right from the Northward path we had been running. We had to quit running and try hiding.
We both divided the floor, not minding what might be there. Lucky we fell perfectly in a furrow covered by two slightly elevated long mounds. We probably were in a teacher’s farm. We lay side by side both of us facing upwards. Jally Jay must have noticed we weren’t on the run again, so he stealthily approached using his usual gimmick to try to coerce us out of hiding.
“Now boys, I say come out. I have seen you guys, just come out. I will spare you”. We didn’t buy the bait-we lay perfectly still holding our breath as the rusting of vegetation indicated he approached our direction. He stood a few feet from us and flashed his light to the left and then fight and couldn’t find us, though we lay there slightly covered near his feet. He stood there awhile, maybe forty seconds or so and then moved away. Those forty seconds felt like an eternity. We both remained in that position for the next thirty minutes even after he left, no one talking no one moving, just relishing our victory, narrow escape and catching our breath.
Dawn passed; full light was almost upon us as the sunrise. I made to move, as I felt my body being climbed by several tiny creatures.
“You Idiot! If them catch me eh… you don die; i go puntey you!” Chinonso growled still fearing someone was around.
I apologized. He was my class mate but I knew it straight he could beat me hands down-there was no Jet li in this one. We sat up and waited till the next bell. 6: 55 am. Bell signaling end of sports. We got up and quietly walked into the hostel. Many boys had sour stories to tell of their plight and the brutality suffered. We had our own tale too, but it wasn’t half as bad; it paid to take the chance.
I felt someone slap me sharply on the thigh repeatedly as the words were spoken in hushed tone. My corner was dark, as the hostel lights were still out; it obviously wasn’t yet 5:30am. The school generator came on at 5:30 every morning. I drew myself up and sat groggily, my both legs still on the bed.
“Guy! Standa nah…” the voice hushed again.
I rubbed my eyes with the back of my palms and leaned forward to make out who was speaking. My corner in the dormitory was at one of the four edges of the long hall-room and my bed was the lower of the two-deck bunk, thus I had even less light as the top bed layer darkened my space.
“what is the matter?” I asked, still unaware of who was speaking, this time bringing my feet down.
“ Jetti, dress-up! Where’s your white canvas?” I was asked again.
I then recognized who was speaking, it was my good friend Enrico Egwoh.He fondly called me “Jet”or jetti’ after the famed Japanese martial arts actor, Jet li. A name I gladly accepted, since I fancied myself as natural born martial art aficionado and could do one or two stunts to keep the flag flying though few called me that, others preferred the accursed name 'cassava mosiac' . A nick name like Jet li in a boarding house, where everyone was given some ridiculous nickname, was most welcome. If you had any prominent unpleasant body feature in the eye, ear, head, you were given a name to “announce the shame.” If you escaped being named after a body anomaly, you instantly got a name from any embarrassing event like “spatula!”-given to John Duruaku, when he couldn’t tell what the tool was used for when asked by the fine Arts teacher. The most embarrassing nick name being the name given to any girl who under went the scourge of scabies (called “scrotchi” or “craw-craw) and recovered with the black spots of the scars on her legs, she, no matter how beautiful became “Miss scro-mgbagbu!” “Jet” or “Jetti,” was thus by far noble and an honour.
“I hear today is last duty!” Enrico hushed again, more impatiently this time. “Where’s your canvas & stockings?”
At the sound of the words “last duty”, I was not only fully awake, I was keenly alert-my emergency mode had kicked in. Prefects at FGC Okigwe, helped the school authority in conducting student in line with the highly regimented school daily routine. They did that mildly most times, but when the body of prefects were said to be “on duty” –it meant unnecessary strict adherence to even the tiniest rules that could get even the most compliant student in default for some good beating. When prefects were on duty, school got ‘hot’ and bottoms got sore from much flogging. The “bloodiest” of these prefect “duties” was the “last duty”- their final acts of flogging and insanity before unofficially dropping responsibilities to SS2 students to face their WAEC.
“Last duty?” I asked while frantically searching for my canvass and stockings. “Who hold you?” I queried. It was a cold Wednesday morning; the school routine included early moving jogging on Mondays, Wednesdays and Friday. The bell, usually, was sounded at 5.45an and students assembled at the school car park by 6am before the exercise was started. But if it was a prefect duty day, the floggings started once the bell was rung. I quickly found my white canvass and stocking I had the school sports shorts but the jersey was missing! Bad timing! On duty days, prefect checked everything-I mean EVERY THING. That way, very small, a fraction, of students escape every form of beating available. Just then, the school generator; a large highly dismembered mechanical power plant roared to life. It was 5:30am. In a short while the prefects, using the rising bell as their cue would go on rampage-if the info my friend had told me was true. Nobody waits around to verify such news.
Chinonso Asuzu, a short, fair complexioned bulky boy joined us at the dormitory door as we quietly began to head-out, he had overheard our discussion. As a tradition, last duty days were closely guarded secrets- the element of surprise on junior student was an important ingredient of the mix. Though short, Chinonso was one of the strongest boys in our class, he kept a serious face and joked very little. He was “complete” unlike I; he had the sports wear shirt and shorts, white stockings and a canvass. The three of us, Enrico, Chinonso and I walked quietly into the darkness away from the light of the electric bulbs of the dormitory.
As we turned from the sharp bend of the hostel blocks, we could see human silhouettes in the dim moon light, in a circle, clustered at a corner of the road. Prefects! “Come back!” Chinonso muttered, simultaneously pulling Enrico and I back. We all squatted and quietly began to withdraw, back the way we had come. We could follow the other way round the back of the hostel to the assembly point instead. We had moved back just three paces when the school bell rang. “Gam! Gam!!” “Gam! Gam!!” That was the last sane sound I was to hear that moving. Suddenly, bright light from rechargeable torches flashed right at us from the distance.
“Those boys! Lie down flat” came the voice from behind the torch.
Almost like you turned on a switch, the hostel came alive-in screams and loud lashes from elastic gmelina tree branches- the most abundant cane source in the school compound. At the sound of the bell, the prefects had begun jumping into hostels from various windows granting the sleeping students a literal rude awakening. It was a no-holds¬-barred flogging fiesta; the blunt flat sides of cutlasses were also used on students.
“Lie down there you badgers!’ the voice bellowed again, sounding more menancing.
From my squatting position, I made to place my both palm on the ground in a bid to lie down when I noticed I was to obey that command alone! My companions had taken to their heels. Enrico must have dashed into the hostel quadranole, joining the confused mass of students fleeing in all direction from the ravaging menace of prefects emotionally charged with the prospect of flogging for the last time before they left the college. I could hear loud repeated thuds quickly receding as the heavily built Chinonso made straight for the bushes near where hostel members had their bath every morning. I was not about to die in my honesty, in a split second I was up and fleeing at tremendous speed.
It was still dark and the school compound was quite huge having many uncultivated land that had developed into a mini-tropical rain forest with, possible attendant wild life species present. We ran into the bush without a second thought for our safety. I caught up with Chinonso and sped past as be wasn’t paving a pathway quick enough. There was no track road or bush path, we just ran through the tall haze of variegated vegetation, cutting and tearing ourselves as we ran. We would have slowed down or stopped once in the safety of the thick bush had we not had one of the torches on our trail. Obviously offended by our blatant disobedience of the order to “lie down”, the prefect behind the torch had singled-us out for the kill.
The bushy terrain was difficult. On many counts; it was dark, some parts were swampy and made to swallow the leg, shrubs, stubs, sticks and thorns made several tiny cut all over the body as we meandered through the bush. I darted this way and then that way, pressing against intertwined network of wall of leave to find which posed the least resistance. There was little time to think and our pursuer was gaining on us. “I can see you guys!” came the voice “It’s over, just stop right there!” The bushes were high and shielding to some degree; we had some cover.
The torch was flashing in several directions as the voice spoke. I recognized the prefect who had that voice, senior Jally jay, the dinning hall prefect. He was athletic and represented his house in the past inter house sports competition. Continuing our race would be futile, he was persistent and would continue the chase I reasoned. While still running I told Chinonso who swerved right from the Northward path we had been running. We had to quit running and try hiding.
We both divided the floor, not minding what might be there. Lucky we fell perfectly in a furrow covered by two slightly elevated long mounds. We probably were in a teacher’s farm. We lay side by side both of us facing upwards. Jally Jay must have noticed we weren’t on the run again, so he stealthily approached using his usual gimmick to try to coerce us out of hiding.
“Now boys, I say come out. I have seen you guys, just come out. I will spare you”. We didn’t buy the bait-we lay perfectly still holding our breath as the rusting of vegetation indicated he approached our direction. He stood a few feet from us and flashed his light to the left and then fight and couldn’t find us, though we lay there slightly covered near his feet. He stood there awhile, maybe forty seconds or so and then moved away. Those forty seconds felt like an eternity. We both remained in that position for the next thirty minutes even after he left, no one talking no one moving, just relishing our victory, narrow escape and catching our breath.
Dawn passed; full light was almost upon us as the sunrise. I made to move, as I felt my body being climbed by several tiny creatures.
“You Idiot! If them catch me eh… you don die; i go puntey you!” Chinonso growled still fearing someone was around.
I apologized. He was my class mate but I knew it straight he could beat me hands down-there was no Jet li in this one. We sat up and waited till the next bell. 6: 55 am. Bell signaling end of sports. We got up and quietly walked into the hostel. Many boys had sour stories to tell of their plight and the brutality suffered. We had our own tale too, but it wasn’t half as bad; it paid to take the chance.
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