𝒀𝑨𝒁𝑬𝑬𝑫'𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑽:
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While every student seems to be super excited to resume back to school after the neverending holiday, I, on the other hand, wish it never ends. It is my worst nightmare to go back to FGC. I can only think of the worst situations I might encounter.
I received a small Ghana must-go from the main house that includes one cabin biscuit, a roll of milk and milo, two mudu of garri with a half mudu of sugar, along with a few other items. It used to be double the amount that was brought, but I got a note along with the provisions that the scholarship board is going to provide provisions and pocket money.
I packed my remaining stuff inside my bag, wore my housewear; navy blue trousers with purple checks, and headed out to where the car is parked. Two comforts I enjoy in this house: staying at the guest house and the driver taking me to the motor park whenever I'm to resume school.
"𝑍𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑢 𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑎ℎ 𝑦𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑦𝑒," the kitchen master says when he saw me going toward the car. He calls me Zaidu instead of Yazeed or Zaid, as most people call me.
"𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑛, 𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑛. 𝑁𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑑𝑒," I answered with a smile as I made my way into the passenger seat.
As I sit in the car, I try to distract myself by looking out the window and observing the passing scenery. I take deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves and remind myself that I have made it through previous terms and I can do it again. We stopped at Azare motor park, and luckily, I was the last passenger remaining to fill the car. The driver went back as he saw our car leaving the garage and wished me a safe journey.
The journey back to school after holidays seems to be the most boring one ever. However, it was the total opposite for the students that sat next to me, whom I assumed were going back to Special School in Azare, from the brown uniforms they wore. They talked about everything and nothing, to the point I almost got irritated by one of them who made a remark and said, "𝐴𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑖 𝑘𝑢𝑘𝑒𝑗𝑖 𝑎 𝐹𝐺𝐶."
Enjoy it how in FGC? I believe he won't last a second once he arrives at there. I didn't bother to argue back; instead, I just smiled at him, rested my head, and pretended to sleep when I realized he wouldn't shut up.
'𝑛𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠.'
We continued on the road until we took the last turn to Azare, leaving Misau, and right there my heart began to pound very fast. I don't know if you've ever experienced it, but it happens to me all the time.
In less than an hour, I began to see our school's fence, welcoming us to Azare town, and I swear I could hear my heartbeats right inside my ears. The driver stopped at the checkpoint right opposite the school's gate, and the driver helped me with my Ghana must-go and trolley. I bid the students from Special School farewell as they drove off into the town, where their school is located. I turned back to face the school, took in deep breaths, and headed towards the school gate.
The front gate was filled up with students, both old and new faces, including those who swore not to come back for the second term. While a few of the students awaited their friends at the gate, the majority of them were looking for one way or another to smuggle in their contraband. One thing I never do is to arrange my contraband at the gate; I always do that at home before leaving.
"Yazz, kid!" I heard a familiar voice shout my name. I turned to see none other than Adnan, one of the BAE's members. The BAEs are a group of four students from my set: Adnan, Ramadan, Sultan, and Yasman as their leader. They said they are 'before anyone else' from our set, hence the name BAE, but I see them as the bullies they are. They are very intimidating, rude, and pompous, and I hope to avoid them this term.
He came down from the red Range Rover that brought him, holding his iPhone 6, which I'm very sure he's taking with him.
"I thought you said you're not coming back," he said.
"Plus I heard you're now a scholarship student," he added, in a funny, rather mocking way.
"Yeah, my bad," I said and hurriedly dragged my luggage through the school gate without letting him say a word. I know better than to respond; else, I was ready to cry my eyes out of mockery and insults.
I welcomed myself back to the prison yard immediately I set foot in the school. I was checked in by the security at the gate before I headed towards my Housemaster's table for check-in and clearance. Five other tables were set for Niger, Chad, Benue, Katagum, and Jama'are Housemasters.
"Yazeed Abubakar," he said as he searched my name in the list before him. On his side of the table were contraband items confiscated from some unfortunate smugglers. They included Indomie, Yaji, Maggi, groundnut oil, makeup kits, housewares, and some other petty things.
"But you're not a scholarship student for the last previous years."
I nodded with a "Yes, Sir."
"Okay, you may proceed to the admin block for other information," he said and handed over a file to me.
I left my luggage at the check-in and proceeded to the admin block. There, I made several new faces and some of the scholarship students I knew from my junior years. Each of us was given a token of five thousand naira as pocket money, along with a Ghana must-go full of provisions. They talked about other things which I didn't quite understand, but I listened until the man said we can leave.
Being a scholarship student in a Federal Government school means the government gets to provide you with provisions, pocket money, uniforms along with school fees. A takeaway my father couldn't obviously trade for anything. I wonder why he didn't enroll me as a scholarship student from the beginning. I could have saved him the trouble; now he's making me a topic of discussion among my peers and other students. I bet it's the first time a regular student switched to a Borno scholar. To even think I'm not an indgene of Borno state. My father sure has his ways of making my life difficult.
I paid my MSSN dues at the gate from the pocket money I was given and dragged my introverted self to the hostel area.
The hostel area was buzzing with activity, a mix of old and new faces, all carrying Ghana must-go bags full of provisions. It felt like a reunion, in a way.
I found my way to my room, room one Rima. After stowing away my provisions, I looked around the room. Some familiar faces from previous years, others new. It was a mixed bag of emotions; the familiarity brought comfort, but the uncertainty of the year ahead weighed on my mind.
'𝑂𝑘𝑎𝑦, ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛!'
𝑯𝑼𝒁𝒁𝒀'𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑽:
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The long-awaited day for my parents to send me off to a boarding school finally arrived. I couldn't sleep, thinking about how I would manage to be away from my normal life, my family, and my modeling career. Daddy sure made a fair deal of paying whatever I earned from modeling, but would that be enough? I knew better than to argue with my Dad's final statements.
I woke up at the second cock's crow, realizing I had fallen asleep overnight. I sluggishly pulled myself out of the duvet, and eyed the pink checkered shirt and the navy blue trousers for the hundredth time, sighing in disappointment. I said a prayer and hurried downstairs because it was already daylight; I had woken up late.
I put on the pink checkered shirt over the navy blue trousers, remembering how Abba had said we'd leave early. It would be a long journey from Abuja to Azare; we were flying from Abuja to Bauchi, and then we would use the road to Azare.
"You sure look like you're from another era in those clothes," my sister commented.
"Yeah, I know," I replied without smiling and made my way to the sitting room.
My parents were already dressed up, seeming eager to send me off.
"We're leaving now; you'll have breakfast when we get to the airport," my father said as he headed to the car.
Everything was packed, including things I wouldn't need for the next thousand years. I had to tell my mom not to include some other stuff, but she insisted, saying they would come in handy.
"I was a boarder once; I know all about these things. You'll need them," she said as she had arranged my luggage the night before.
We arrived quite early in Bauchi since it was less than a two-hour flight from Abuja. One thing I never missed when I visited Bauchi was their masa, a Northern snack delicacy similar to a pan-fried rice cake. They were well-known for their masa making, and it tasted heavenly. I liked mine served with vegetable soup, while the twins ate theirs with yaji.
We rode in the Toyota Hiace that took us from the airport. Now I regretted not taking my studies seriously; it could have saved me the trouble of going to a boarding school.
"There's more to life than this modeling you're doing. You're a man; I want you to see what the world looks like, to explore, and to have real friends," those were my father's words when he was giving me lectures on why I should go to the boarding school. But I knew it was more like him sending me away.
I took the back seat to myself and put on my headphones, listening to my favorite albums. When I opened my eyes, I realized I had slept for over two hours, and we had reached Azare town.
The bus was parked outside the school gate. The school was probably the first thing that welcomed you to Azare, as I noticed there were no buildings around.
The school gate was painted brown, and on top was the school's name written: FEDERAL GOVERNMENT AZARE. The whole fence was painted in a milky color, with barbed wire on top. We had been inside the bus all this while when an elderly man came and opened the gate for us.
Once inside the school, I could tell we were the objects of curious attention, as all eyes were on us. Passing through the gate, a large banner of white and green hung on a building from a distance, with bold writing that said: WELCOME TO FEDERAL GOVERNMENT COLLEGE, AZARE.
There were green flowers planted on either side of the walkways, right from the gate. The blue sky gave the school a lively touch, an atmosphere filled with life and hope. Except for the trees painted in white and green, all other buildings in the school were brown and milky color. There were buildings on either side of the walkway, and I could tell the one on our right was the school's mosque.
We parked exactly at the building where the banner was hung, and I realized it was the school's Administration block. Abba was greeted by an elderly man, and they made their way inside the building, followed by Mum.
The twins and I came out as well and sat adjacent to the Admin block, while the driver went to park the car. All this while, I had an indescribable feeling within me; I felt nauseous as I went to sit on the outdoor chairs.
All eyes were on us as we sat down.I could hear faint comments from them:
"He's that model who was coming."
"OMG, he's cute."
"The twins are breathtaking."
I ignored all the comments as I should and increased the volume on my phone. I sat with my legs crossed on the chair, immersing myself in my music. Then I heard a thunderous voice shouting in my direction:
"Do you think you're in your father's parlor?" the voice shouted.
Before I knew what was happening, he pulled out my headphones and asked again;
"Mr Man I asked you a question."
I stood up to see the-only-god-knows-his-name teacher, looking angry.
'𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡?'
MINAL'S POV:
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Who else could have been more eager to resume school than my friends and me?
I spent the night before in Azare at my friend Zainab's, anticipating the next day when we would return to school.
It had been a long holiday, and I just couldn't wait to reunite with my friends. I had wanted to leave early the next day, but Zainab insisted we wait until noon to avoid cleaning the hostel. Well, she had a point; those girls have no respect for humanity. Who else would make you work on the very first day you return to school? Why not at least wait for a month or so? As I said, they're very heartless.
My name is Minal Umar Shettima, the youngest daughter of the Gobra town kingdom. I have 45 older siblings, from both my mother and stepmother. I am the extroverted type, friendly and kind, but the royal blood in me won't let me act like a servant. People always assume I'm the snobbish type, except if you get to know me, which is nearly impossible.
I checked my watch again; it was already past 3 in the afternoon. Aisha had called earlier and said we should wait for her, but my impatience was growing. I couldn't wait to see my best friend, Suffy.
"Please call Aisha, I'm getting tired!" I pleaded, wiping imaginary tears from my eyes.
"I'm getting tired," she said, trying to imitate my voice but failed miserably.
Suddenly, we heard "Salam," and we all rushed to the door, knowing who it was.
"𝐵𝑎𝑛𝑧𝑎, I thought you weren't coming," I said playfully as I hugged her.
"Sorry, we got delayed by traffic. I know you must have been waiting," she said as she released me from the hug.
"Oh, it's fine. Let's go then," Zainab said as she made her way out of the room, and we followed suit.
Zainab's father dropped us off at the school gate, and we entered the school. We didn't wait for anyone as we normally would; we assumed they must have arrived by now. I trusted Zainab to camouflage our contraband; she's good at doing that. Fortunately, there were fewer students at the check-in, which meant less searching. The best time to return to school is either early in the morning or late in the afternoon; there are fewer searches and students at that time.
My heart raced as the security guard began searching Zainab's Ghana must-go bag. Our lives depended on that bag - our sardines, yaji, makeup, and everything contraband were inside it.
"That's not where I hid them," she whispered in my ear and nodded towards a bag that had already been searched. I heaved a sigh of relief and gave her a thumbs-up.
I adjusted my long blue scarf and draped it over my right shoulder. We started walking towards the administrative block when we saw a crowd gathered there.
"What's happening here?" Easha asked, directing the question to no one in particular.
We stopped walking when we saw Suffy, along with two other friends, walking quickly towards us. I couldn't wait, so I ran to them before they could reach us and enveloped them in a big hug.
"Gosh, I missed you, babes," Suffy said with excitement written all over her face.
"I missed you too, my sugar," I replied.
"Wait, all of us have been admitted to the science class. How is that even possible? We hardly prepared for these exams. Most of us were either writing love letters or drawing Barbie characters during prep," Zainab said sarcastically, and we all burst out laughing.
"No, it's true," she defended.
"𝑀𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑠" Grace finally said, and we burst into another fit of laughter.
As we walked towards the administrative block, we all froze when we saw an angel sitting with his legs crossed. I had to look at Suffy to confirm if we were seeing the same thing, and luckily, we turned to each other at the same time, with Suffy smiling, raising a brow at me.
Beside him were two boys who were obviously twins. He looked broody and cute, stylish even while sitting there, ignoring all the attention on him. I had to admit, Huzzy looked even better in real life; all those Instagram filters didn't do him justice.
"Who's that angel?" Grace asked, her mouth wide open.
"Don't you know Huzzy? The Instagram lover boy? Girl, you're definitely missing out," Suffy answered confidently.
I didn't realize I had been staring for so long until Suffy snapped at me.
Okay, I don't know what you call it, but this was love at first sight for me.
'But what about Yasman? ' a mind asked me
Well, he can find another lady for himself. I've found my own Prince Charming.
Suddenly, Mr. Musa, the Chad housemaster, appeared out of nowhere, heading towards where our Prince Charming was seated. The students who had gathered around quickly dispersed; they knew better than to breathe the same air as Mr. Musa, the teacher students feared the most.
"Do you think you're in your father's parlor?" He shouted at Huzzy, who seemed lost in his headphones.
He didn't answer the first time, so Mr. Musa pulled out the headphones from his ears and asked again.
"Mr. Man, I asked you a question!" Mr. Musa thundered.
If Huzzy was shocked, he didn't show it. He remained calm and composed, standing there like a statue. Knowing how angry Mr. Musa would be with such an attitude, I rushed up to them to play the role of the good Samaritan.
"Sir, he's a new student," I interrupted, offering a small grin.
"Who asked you? Did anyone give you the right?" He retorted angrily.
"Will you get lost!" He barked at us. I regretted my actions instantly, but for some unknown reason, I felt like I did the right thing.
Read the next chapter here
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