THE VISITING DAY.

Beginning sometime in the middle of 2003, I have kept a diary where I write everyday; random thoughts, record of happenings, omens, etc. This practice necessitated the continuation of the diary in several exercise books (I have quite a pile of these books now; in them, how I think and most of the motives behind my actions, will hang around here many years after I leave). 

I kept these books, along with every letter, note, or handmade card that was personally made for me. Along with this collection of books, I have my term results from my secondary school, JSS 1 to SSS 3 (1998-2004). I was looking through my results, as I did, I could readily tell from a clear pattern in them, what my natural strengths were and how best I functioned. As I looked through the results, I came across one of results that brought lots of memories. Let me try to share.

Saturdays at FGC Okigwe were anything but fun, except you were an SSS 3 student, who could do whatever was desired or a skilled gypsy (I may explain this later to those who didn't attend FGC Okigwe). Beginning from Friday evenings, you'd begin to feel the horrors of the intensive clean up exercise which was done in preparation for the keenly contested hostel inspection.

During inspection, house captains and prefects, ensured the hotels and environs were worked on so meticulously, the hostels would be so clean...until 20 minutes after the inspectors left and the hostels would quickly revert to the default mayhem.

 You were highly favored among school boys, if the portion assigned to you was sweeping and mopping a dormitory, handling cobwebs, weeding and sweeping a quadrangle or washing a gutter. 

But you'd know, your village people were in Senate and seated in vibrant plenary session, if you were assigned to wash the infamous pit latrines aka VIP. The work of VIP was done in phases, usually the several bowls of the pit latrines you were assigned to clean were always surrounded by huge heaps of you-know-what, then litters of the same, were strewn around the immediate grounds of the toilet.

You were first required to 'push it' all into the latrine hole, wash the 'scars'  from the pushing and then mop it sparkly clean— using a foam, with your hands. Yes, the one you eat with. I know all these because, though I paid my dues (lanwu), I was frequently assigned to VIP duties. I washed VIP so frequently I developed some form of foul-odour immunity — others would mockingly ask, 'Ol' boy, you dey bubble VIP steady! But why?'. I never replied them, but VIP work always came with lots of free water. Hostel inspections, were enough to make Saturdays terrible so I'd spare you the mention of groundwork aka manual labour.

The only Saturdays to look forward to were first Saturdays of the month because though the rigorous inspections held, it was set aside as Visiting Day; the day parents and guardians were officially permitted to come and check on their children and wards, and replenish their supply of cash and beverages.

Apart from some persistent individuals, with ambiguous motives who had the ability to stay at the car park from after inspection till moonlight, most people found out about their visitors on V-Day through someone coming to inform them. If you had a visitor and someone came to inform you, it could be good thing or bad thing. If you were with your friends (those you 'cooperated' with— and shared beverages), it was a good thing. But if your nosy dorm boys and/or the seniors under whose food-chain you live were the ones present when the news is brought to you, it was bad thing, a very unfortunate turn. In fact, consider whatever was brought for you, reduced by half! Sapping was real.

Visiting days were magical, people who prior to the time, didn't notice you were a human being, would suddenly worship you, once news got around that you had been visited and stocked up with fresh resources.

Some people's parents came for visiting day like they were coming for a 100 guests wedding! Chinonso Egwim, I recall you used to be in this category. 

Senior boys made V-Day night rounds, through the hostels, during which they extorted from students who had been visited: food, money and soft Ofoma loaf. Sometimes, though some students could successfully hide from being seen with their visiting families just to dodge this extortion, you could still tell they had been visited. Especially those students that prior to the day, were broke and beggarly; they would loose the 'humility' that hunger and 'find-me-small' had wrought in them in the preceding weeks, in its place would be that unmistakable swagger of 'I-have-a-new-supply-provision'— it was like a cherubic light of joy in their eyes. Picking these guys out was so easy, for a predatory senior boy, such that it could have been mistaken for a prophetic word! 

My mom is a superhero, whenever she came to me, I'd get a good portion of rice, stew and meat to eat and share with friends. I'd also get the much needed supply of beverage and money for Mr Chukwu's heavenly diet, washed down with Limca. Ah! Many such glorious memories.

The visiting day however, that I was reminded of while looking at my results was the day, mom couldn't come. I didn't know this and I had run out of everything except long green bars of truck soap and rolls of tissue paper. So I had my hopes laid on that day.

So you can imagine my relief when I was told I had a visitor. I followed the fellow and there stood my elder brother. All he had in his hand was a small waterproof bag with just one plate of fried rice from Mr Biggs and bottle of coke— see me, see wickedness! One plate for what? Didn't he know no one ever ate, in a boarding house without being begged? My secondary school heart was broken!I didn't know better.

And on top of the shortchange, his major concern was if I was doing Further Mathematics. I was barely getting by Maths and he wanted me to further it. After much threat, I registered for the subject and offered it for one term only.

What got me down this memory lane was my SSS 1 result I was looking at on top of my pile of diaries, the term I offered the Further Mathematics. 

There was no Grade G so they gave me a sound F. They gave me.