October 30, 2016 at 8:40 am #877021ValentineAdmin
story narrated and written by Therock5555
HOW TO PASS A FAILED TEST
Ok, the title of the story is not an eulogy or a misplaced tale but that of wicked wisdom gotten from a young Akwa Ibom dude like me, don’t look at me in a funny way, i’m not high on apku or fresh dog meat but hell yeah, this freaking happened, I stared into the face of death and yelled at it and death cowered back in fear. Sorry, I don’t have any idea of how death looked like but I’m sure Mrs. Ade was it in human skin. She was my GSE 322 lecturer, one of the most dreaded lecturer in the school, Legend has it that she had slapped a fellow male lecturer and he became a stammerer till date, well I only believed the tale when I say the man myself sleeping in his office, I guess it was over exhaustion from multi-stammering or so I guessed.
I’ve been an overly egocentric fellow since my year 1, never in view of anything or anybody but when needed most, most people barely know me and some people have vowed that I was either following them to lectures to gain experience as to open a bread company later while some swore that I neither had a matric number or gained admission and that I just tagged along eating my dad’s money for tuitions. Only my closest friends knew the specie of human breed I was and what I was capable of, this behaviour had saved me from unwanted attention from bad folks and ladies but that fateful day, my mum served me two plates of fresh apku as breakfast since I could never get tired of it and to my dismay I was hyper energic and weird that day and the first sign of bad things to come was that as soon as I entered hall that day I grabbed one girl’s arse and lost myself into a group of guys, a poor dude took the fall for my sins by receiving a screen grabbing slap. I didn’t bother myself with the ensuing saga, I just grabbed a seat and plug my ear phones into my phone blasting away my sorrows until Mrs. Ade walked in, the whole class hushed up, because she was an easily pissed off fellow.
“Guy comot your ear piece jare” My friend silas tapped me roughly.
I repeat please don’t ever listen to music in your life while in class for I was so engrossed in Olamide’s Who You Epp track featuring Phyno that I did not realise her presence, but I heard a little of what my friend said but was not in the mood to oblique him so instead I was shouting “who you epp” for like five times not realizing that the class was ultra silent. Silas mouth was wide opened with shock which made me thought he was feeling my auto toned voice so I continued my song.
“You don baff?” “Who you serve?”
That moment a hot slap was served straight to the back of my head, the kind of slap that could make you forget your girlfriend’s phone number, I sprang up in shock and tore off my earphones hoping to give the slapper a piece of my madness when I met the cold stare of Mrs Ade strong face, I initially thought I had a bad dream so I pinched myself to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating but it was freaking real.
“Ma is that you?” I said, barely recognising my own voice.
“No, I’m your dead aunty from the grave” she countered.
I smiled that kind of smile that barely touches the scrotum while my heart pounded with merciless abandon.
“So you were singing in my class eh, you were busy shouting who you help like a tout, now tell me, who have you helped?”
“So you were singing in my class eh, you were busy shouting who you help like a tout, now tell me, who have you helped?”
“Nobody ma” I replied quietly to reduce the truckload of troubles I found my self in.
“Not even a beggar?” She quipped.
“No ma, I’ve help a beggar, I gave him N10” I said gallantly.
“Only?” My coordinator screamed causing chaotic echoes throughout the class.
“Ma I’m sorry” I pleaded.
“Sorry for yourself, now leave my class and never attend this class again this semester or else I’ll deal with you” she screamed into my ears like I wasn’t gonna hear if she spoke slightly lower.
As she pushed me off roughly, some of my friends whispered that I kneel and beg her, but that shiit ain’t happening in front of all the girls in that hall. My pride won’t allow me. I turned my back like I wanted to leave but like a drunk trying to gain a few minutes of fame, I took out my phone, scroll down my music playlist and clicked on Cobhams and Falz’s booshit track and began bouncing like Don Jazzy out of the hall. Almost towards the end of the hall, some students were frantically beckoning on me to turn back, while some were trying to motioned with their fingers that I should take off my ear piece but I was too busy shouting Booshit and walking out. I got out, checked my wallet and thought of taking the school transit bus or keke, I decided on the latter and went off grooving till I got home. I took some more of the energy boosting apku before going to sleep.
Before I could close my eyes, my phone rang, I groaned and sang with my Jagaban ringing tone before picking up at the death. It was Silas.
“Guy, you feel my packaging bouncing as I left the hall?”
“Guy you be goat, because of you the woman wan give only our department impromptu test, she said na thirty marks”
“Chaiiiiiiii” I screamed jumping up. “Write for me bros”
“The woman don share paper and I no fit collect two sheets alone so better come and beg her, she was even calling you back and you were there bouncing off like goat, students were even telling you to stop but you were forming boss abi? The woman said you would fail her course, and she would stop you from graduating with us. Guy do come beg her or else na you get your life” he warned and switched off his phone.
“JJJJJJJEEEEEESSSSSSSUUUUUSSSS” I screamed as I quickly wore my jean and shirt, grabbed a pen and Biro and dashed out of the house, the way I was running made my area folks think I had gone all physco mental, you need to see as folks were running out with koboko and strong ropes to tie me, I’m the street snub and presumed most arrogant dude cus I barely talk to anybody in my area except greeting a times when I’m not blasting music and miming to myself or brooding. So it would have been great joy to see themselves as my presumed madness curers.
“I’m not mad, I get emergency test for school” I screamed when I saw people chasing me hard, the immediately stopped and observed for awhile before wishing me luck. I stopped a bike hundred metres before reaching the main road. Instead of jumping behind, I shoved the bike man behind and tried to climb in front, the Hausa man thought I wanted to steal his bike so he gave me a strong blow on my ribs which I barely felt and grabbed my trousers preparing to struggle.
“Bros I get test for school now and you no fit speed as I like so abeg shift make I drive, I go give you hundred naira” I said still struggling with him.
“Walahi na two hundred naira you go pay faa”
I threw him my wallet as he shifted back, I jumped on the bike and started it, the speed I took nearly tore him off the bike left for his timely hold on my shirt did he stay put, in my mind I was like, shey una dey feel how passengers dey feel when una wan send them to early grave.
Well God bless the makers of Need for Speed: Most wanted and Asphalt 8 for it made me ran on full speed making it to school under two minutes, who said game play couldn’t be transited to real life scenarios.
I walked boldly to the hall after collecting my wallet without checking it before pocketing it, I cleaned my face and walked in raising my hands.
“Ma, I went to ease myself, I don’t have a test script” I said changing my voice.
“Nonsense boy, if you don’t get out now I’ll make you hate your life, i thought you were feeling pompous and bouncing out of the class even when I was asking you to stop, you were forming macho man, you won’t graduate, I bet you, leave my class” she screamed, some students were urging me to beg but I wasn’t in the mood for such, suddenly I perceived that my grandma’s Igbo gene would see me through my predicament. An idea entered my head as I saw some guys of mine in another department, I shared with them my predicament and told them my plan which they readily agreed to.
“Ma excuse me” I said standing at the main front door of the hall, feeling my new shirt and glasses I exchanged with two guys, Mrs Ade took a look at me from head to toe and asked me to come in, I was feeling myself, happy that my change of identity could do me this favour, I was using my Sherlock Holmes skills that moment, when I got near enough and was expecting her to ask me why I came in late and me giving my pre-rehearsed line, she threw me a wicked slap that I barely saw coming, in my mind I was already convulsing in pain and tears on the floor but in real life I was just holding my cheeks and moving backwards. My shades were broken due to the force of her slap and that moment I knew I would pay for a new pair of glass after that period.
“If you like dress like the devil, I’ll recognise you, stupid goat, please who knows his Matric number?” She barked as I retreated out of the class.
“Ma, I’m not sure that boy is a legitimate student, I rarely see him in school, seems like he is just chopping his parent’s money” the coordinator replied sending the class into delirium.
“No wonder, he behaves like a tout, maybe I should call the security to pick him off when I see him returning again, by the way, ten minutes remaining” she said as everyone began forming serious writers.
I was in turmoil as my brain went into hyper drive as I contemplated on my next port of call, my brain suddenly went blank so I began looking at the trees for inspiration when suddenly my eyes went towards a mango tree where four boys stood in front of chairs, apron round their necks and clippers buzzing in their palms. I yelped in joy and ran towards them.
You might call them hard workers or students trying to etch a living out of cutting other student’s hair for a token but I’ll tell you that, those guys were last resorts to guys who were either broke, poor or who could or would not pay the hefty 150-250 naira fee needed to get a haircut in other reputable saloons in the school cafeteria because we are of course in the Buhari’s regime so no more money.
Hostel barbers were what those barbers were referred as, it seemed like their dress code were an apron for themselves and the unfortunate customer(s), a pair of soft foam or matrass depending on where its gotten from, soft brush, a high rubber stool for the customers and most importantly a lighter in their pocket. The funniest part was that they had no large or small mirror to view your hair because they feared that you may enter into a mad rant when your ‘Mohawk’ proposed style was turned into ‘punk’ hairstyle.
My first encounter with them was in my year one when I was informed of their presence, even though I just heard about them i was glad thinking it was better than taking bike into town to have a haircut in my friend’s saloon, I was even glader when I was told it was 50 naira only, when I saw them I was alittle taken aback when I noticed they didn’t have a mirror. The speed of the haircut was terrorising, those homies cut my hair low and carved it in less than three minutes, fear struck a cord in me so I took out my phone and took a selfie, amazingly the hair cut was okay.
When bouncing off a few metres away, a girl behind me was laughing hysterically, I turned in time to see her pointing at the back of my head. I called her to ask what was funny when she told me if I had dinner with rats the previous night, in my mind I was like ‘noooooo’, I gave her my phone to take a photograph and the results were mind blowing, I thought the back of my head was hit by a tsunami. I wept like I was dumped off a large sum of money, I quickly ran back to confront the barber, he claimed my hair was curly like a Fulani man’s own which was true, he then claimed that it was the reason his clipper fetched my hair like a landmine, I swore never to patronise them again, i would rather allow my hair to be as long as a mad man’s if they were the last Barbers in the world than to allow them touch my hair again.
But there I was a couple of years later staring tepidly at them, crying in my mind about the hair I was about to let go off, I had never completely shaved my hair for over six years but it was either I did that or get yabbed like first year where I wore hoodies and head warmer for two straight months cause of the painful slow growth of my hair.
“Guy I wan barb”
I sighed, took out my phone and took a couple of last remembrance pictures before allowing my hair to be ravaged into a skin cut style in less than two minutes. The dude was proud of his efforts in barbing me swiftly. I changed into a complete set of shirt and glasses, with my Skull shining brightly in the rising sun.
Luckily for me, Mrs Ade was speaking to a boy at the back of the class with her back turned, some bad belly folks wanted to blow my cover as I tip toed in even though they did not recognise me again, I looked like an under-15 kid imposter. I swiftly grabbed a test script just in time before Mrs Ade turned, I was pushing a girl to allow me a seat when she shouted at me.
“My friend stop copying and go back to your seat” she barked. My heart beat could be heard miles away as I walked towards a free seat, her eyes trying to decipher if I was who she thought or it was my younger twin. I contorted my face like an imbecile under heat as I successfully got to my seat in time before she scream “submit”. Fuckkk no, I wasn’t hearing ‘submit’ I was hearing ‘continue’ instead. I was dubbing from all corners and was about the second to last person that finally submitted, I didn’t even know neither did I care about what I wrote, all I knew was that, I made it through. They all thought I was gonna fail but I clicked through once again barely standing firm.
My friends were having a filled day laughing when they saw my skin cut, I was soaking in the insults when a guy took out his Blackberry Z10 and when I was preparing for a timid smile, he pointed the camera to my feet and took pictures, I was confused at first until he spoke.
” Hey, students make una look this boy leg, him and mad man which of them dey mad pass ” he screamed as lots of students turned to look at me. I quickly looked at my feet and couldn’t believe it.
I was putting on my bathroom slippers on my left leg and my palm slippers on my right foot, I felt like the ground could swallow me, phones and cameras began shuttering as I became an unfortunate celebrity of misplaced priorities.
That moment I realised why my area folks wanted to beat me thinking I was mentally deranged, it wasn’t their fault. I quickly called a bike, only to find out my wallet was empty, the previous bike man must have swamped off more than our agreed fee so I had no choice but to begin trekking home admist shame and laughter.
That day I learnt my lesson, I wasn’t ever going to rap “who you EPP” song or any other Olamide or phyno songs ever in my life again, I almost missed an important test which would have bagged me an extra year in school for nothing.
Who Olamide don help sef….
The End……October 30, 2016 at 8:53 am #877027John Walter El MarshallMember
kukukukukuku nice story….
All the way up- Fat Joe.October 30, 2016 at 9:29 am #877039AdolfMember
Haaaaa younger brother of flowOctober 30, 2016 at 11:24 am #877077sofiaMember
Holy poo God save your assOctober 30, 2016 at 11:49 am #877088BaDDest_Street_NIGGAMember
hahahaha 9ce writeup shaOctober 30, 2016 at 11:52 am #877089akinduroMember
lolOctober 30, 2016 at 1:42 pm #877140DiamoraMember
Hahahaha, can’t stop laughing.. lmaoOctober 30, 2016 at 2:08 pm #877153AbsoluteMember
lol you don learn