Read the prologue here
YAZEED'S POV:
.
.
.
My name is Yazeed Abubakar, the only child of my mother. I have a carefree attitude towards life because it feels like no one cares about me. I just graduated from junior classes at 16, which was later than expected.
I am neither a bookworm nor a guru, just an average student. I'm known as the most unserious student in any class. It's like I'm the unlucky guy from a movie who never achieves anything, but it seems I always get lucky with my tests and exams.
My life feels twisted, and sometimes I wish I could escape it, to go somewhere far and to never come back, but I guess that would forever remain a dream.
Sometimes nature throw things at us that we can't explain how or why they happen to us. They just happen without our knowledge or consent, and life goes on.
Just like you can't prove your existence in your dreams, so I can't prove to people who my real father is. I couldn't even waste the effort because it's something that seems impossible, and no one would believe me anyway.
It's been 3 months since the never-ending JSCE vacation started. I can't say I'm enjoying it, but it's better than going to Fgc. My dad's guest house is far better than the orphanage where I was brought up. I'm provided with anything I could ever ask for. No doubt, the workers here are very kind. Just that my world revolves around the guest house and not any other place, except school which I dread going back to. To be precise, I'm like a hostage trapped in my own world, never given the chance to explore.
I finally got out of bed to unplug my phone, which was on the other side of the bed. I was watching One Piece when my battery ran down, but now it's fully charged.
"Finally," I said with a quick sigh.
When I unlocked my phone, I was shocked by the message I saw. No, it wasn't the message itself, but rather the sender. I received an email from Fgc Azare, saying that school resumes in two weeks' time.
"What?" I exclaimed as I delved into the text.
Our results were also released, and I know it must have shocked the heavens and the earth that I actually passed without an F9. I left most of my papers blank, just a thorough 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒐. I really wished I could have been kicked out of that school for good.
After the results, I opened the next email, and this one had even more surprises than the previous one. It reads;
𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒀𝒂𝒛𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝑨𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒓. 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑭𝑮𝑪 𝑨𝒛𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑨𝒓𝒕 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒓....
I scoffed and flipped the phone away, saying "𝑰𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒉𝒊," I cried out.
I didn't ask for any of this - the results, and now the mysterious scholarship.
'I'll be going back to FGC as a Borno-scholar?' I thought silently to myself.
I hurried to my locker to get my diary. Yes, I own a diary. Wait, who made the rules that boys shouldn't own a diary?
Well, rules are meant to be broken, and my diary is my best friend. Writing is the only thing that comforts me and helps me gather my thoughts.
Right now, I need to get myself together, so I took my diary to write.
𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒓𝒚,
𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅. 𝑰 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝑱𝑺𝑪𝑬 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒐-𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍. 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝑨𝑬'𝑺 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕? 𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏. 𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒎𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒊 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌.
𝒀𝒂𝒙.
𝑯𝑼𝒁𝒁𝒀'𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑽:
.
.
.
"But dad, we had an agreement," I said, almost raising my voice to my father.
"𝑌𝑎𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑎𝑚!" he exclaimed calmly, touching his forehead.
"You. Are. Going. Period!" he said, emphasizing each word as he spoke.
He raised his eyebrows and widened his hands farther as he pronounced the word 'period' and walked out.
I shifted my gaze to my mother, who had been sitting at the dining table without saying a word.
"Mama!" I called out, giving her the "say something" look.
"Say something, please," I pleaded when she played dumb in response to my sign.
"You know your father, it's hard to make him change his mind. Pray it's for the best," she said, walking over to where I was seated.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. This can't be happening, can they really team up against me?
"But going to a boarding house will put my modeling career at stake. Mama, please talk to Abba about this, I beg you," I said, sniffing, tears about to start pouring.
"I will take any punishment, but please not a boarding school," I said, with my knees on the floor, finally breaking into tears. Hoping my mom would have pity on me.
"𝑇𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖, 𝑡𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖" she said, helping me stand on my feet.
Yeah, playing the victim always works with my mother, but never with my father.
"Don't worry, I'll see what I can do," she said.
"𝑆ℎ𝑢𝑘𝑟𝑎𝑛, 𝐴𝑚𝑚𝑖" I said, smiling sheepishly as I hugged her.
But seriously, I don't want to go to a boarding house.
I've been into modeling since I was a kid, probably because of how cute I was, which I still am. Although my father never supported it, Mama saw nothing wrong and always supported me.
I model for one of the biggest shoe companies here in Nigeria and several others overseas. I'm a public figure with over 1 million followers on Instagram. But now, my life is about to be messed up.
We're a family of seven. There's my eldest sister, Zeenah, then me, our twin brothers, Hammad and Hameed, and our parents.
Both our parents are from the Northern part of Nigeria. My father is Kanuri, while my mum is Shuwa. The combination of these two tribes always results in a beautiful family like ours. We were hardly differentiated from the white kids when we were in America. We all have the light skin and long hair to blend in.
Zeenah, my stunning sister, possess an ethereal beauty that captivates all who lay eyes upon her. Her lustrous, ebony locks cascade down her shoulders like waterfall, perfectly complementing her radiant, sun-kissed complexion.
Our twin brothers, Hammad and Hameed are a delightful duo, each possessing their own distinctive charm. Hammad, with his charming dimples, has a magnetic personality that draws people in effortlessly. Hameed, on the other hand, possesses a quite confidence that command attention. We sometimes call him "The boss".
As for myself, I posseses a unique allure that sets me apart. With a graceful poise and an enigmatic smile, I exclude an air of mystery. I seem to have inherited traits from both my parents.
Together, our family is a tapestry of diverse beauty, each member contributing their unique qualities to create a harmonious blend.
Our father used to serve in the United States military while I was five. Mama gave birth to the twins in the United States, something they now brag about. Abba left the military when I was 12, and we returned to Nigeria. Life here is quite different from what I knew in the States.
I moved closer to the dining table, where the admission letter was lying, and grabbed it furiously.
𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑯𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒊𝒇𝒂𝒉 𝑨𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒔, 𝒘𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒅𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝑭𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝑮𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆, 𝑨𝒛𝒂𝒓𝒆....
"What in the world is a Federal Government College?" I shouted.
I thought it would be either NTIC or The Regent School, but why a Federal Government College of all schools?
"OMDB!" I exclaimed and stormed out, leaving the letter behind.
Read next chapter here
0 Comments