LETTER TO THE NIGERIAN PARENTS

Friends,

Let me add the benefit of my time as a student and then resident in the UK - and I live in Lagos now. The first thing that I discovered about UK-born, white, English undergraduates was that all of them did holiday or weekend job to support themselves - including the children of millionaires amongst them. It is the norm over there - regardless how wealthy their parents are. And I soon discovered that virtually all other foreign students did the same - the exception being those of us status-conscious Nigerians.

I also watched Richard Branson (owner of Virgin Airline) speaking on the Biography Channel and, to my amazement; he said that his young children travel in the economy class -even when the parents (he and his wife) are in upper class. Richard Branson is a billionaire in Pound Sterling. A quick survey would show you that only children from Nigeria fly business or upper class to commence their studies in the UK . No other foreign students do this. There is no aircraft attached to the office of the prime minister in the UK - he travels on BA. And the same goes for the Royals. The Queen does not have an aircraft for her exclusive use.

These practices simply become the culture which the next generation carries forward. Have you seen the car that Kate Middleton the lass married to Prince William drives? VW Golf or something close to it. But there's one core difference in them and us (generally speaking). They - the billionaires among them work for their money, we steal ours!

If we want our children to bring about the desired change we have been praying for on behalf of our dear country, then please, please let's begin now and teach them to work hard so that they can stand alone and most importantly be content, and not have to "steal". This seems to be the norm these days.                 "30 is the new 18", which seems to be the new age for testing out the world in Nigeria now. That seems to be an unspoken but widely accepted mindset among the last 2 generations of parents in Nigeria .

At age 18 years, a typical young adult in the UK leaves the clutches of his/her parents for the University, chances are, that's the last time those parents will ever play "landlord" to their son or daughter except of course the occasional home visits during the academic year.                 At 21 years and above or below, the now fully grown and independent minded adult graduates from University, searches for employment, gets a job and shares a flat with other young people on a journey into becoming fully fledged adults.

I can hear the echo of parents saying, well, that is because the UK economy is thriving, safe, well structured and jobs are everywhere? I beg to differ and I ask that you kindly hear me out. I am UK trained Recruitment Consultant and I have been practicing for the past 10 years in Nigeria . I have a broad range of experience from recruiting graduates to executive director level of large corporations. In addition, I talk from the point of view of someone with relatively privileged upbringing.  Driven to school every day, had my clothes washed for me, was barred from taking any part-time job during my A-levels so that I could concentrate on studying for my exams?! BUT, I got the opportunity to live apart from my parents from age 18 and the only time I came back home to stay was for 3 months before I got married!    

Am I saying that every parent should wash their hands off their children at age 18? No, not at all, of course, I enjoyed the savings that I made from living on and off at my parent's house in London - indeed that is the primary reason for my being able to buy myself a 3 bedroom flat in London at age 25 with absolutely no direct financial help from my parents!

For me, pocket money stopped at age 22, not that it was ever enough for my lifestyle to compete with Paris Hilton's or Victoria Beckham's. Meanwhile today, we have Nigerian children who have never worked for 5 minutes in their lives insisting on flying "only" first or business class, carrying the latest Louis Vuitton ensemble, Victoria 's Secret underwear and wearing Jimmy Choo's, fully paid for by their "loving" parents.   I often get calls from anxious parents, my son graduated 2 years ago and is still looking for a job, can you please assist! Oh really! So where exactly this “child” is my usual question. Why are you the one making this call dad/mum?

I am yet to get a satisfactory answer, but between you and me, chances are that big boy is cruising around Lagos with a babe dressed to the nines, in his dad's spanking new SUV with enough "pocket money" to put your salary to shame. It is not at all strange to have a 28 year old who has NEVER worked for a day in his or her life in Nigeria but "earns" a six figure "salary" from parents for doing absolutely nothing.         I see them in my office once in a while, 26 years old with absolutely no skills to sell, apart from a shiny CV, written by his dad's secretary in the office. Of course, he has a driver at his beck and call and he is driven to the job interview. We have a fairly decent conversation and we get to the inevitable question - so, what salary are you looking to earn? Answer comes straight out - N250,000.00. I ask if that is per month or per annum.

Of course it is per month. Oh, why do you think you should be earning that much on your first job? Well, because my current pocket money is N200,000.00 and I feel that an employer should be able to pay me more than my parents. I try very hard to compose myself, over parenting is in my opinion the greatest evil handicapping the Nigerian youth. It is at the root of our national malaise.

We have a youth population of tens of millions of who are being "breastfed and diapered" well into their 30s. Even though the examples I have given above are from parents of considerable affluence, similar patterns can be observed from Abeokuta to Adamawa! Wake up mum! Wake up dad! You practically love your children to death! No wonder corruption continues to thrive. We have a society of young people who have been brought up to expect something for nothing, as if it were a birth right.

I want to encourage you to send your young men and women (anyone over 20 can hardly be called a child!) out into the world, maybe even consider reducing or stopping the pocket money to encourage them to think, explore and strive. Let them know that it is possible for them to succeed without your "help". Take a moment to think back to your own time as a young man/woman, what if someone had kept spoon feeding you, would you be where you are today? No tree grows well under another tree, children that are not exposed to challenges, don't cook well. That is why you see adults complaining, "my parents didn't buy clothes for me this Christmas", ask him/her how old are you? 30 years +. Because of the challenges we faced in our youth, we are where and what we are today. This syndrome-my children will not suffer what I suffered is destroying our tomorrow.

Deliberately, reduce their allowance or mum-don't cook on Saturday till late afternoon or evening-do as occasion deserve.  I learnt the children of a former Nigerian head of state with all the stolen (billions) monies in their custody, still go about with security escort as wrecks. They are on drugs, several times because of the drug, they collapse in public places. The escort will quickly pack them and off they go, what a life! No one wants to marry them. Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young.- Henry Ford. Hard work does not kill; everything in Nigeria is going down, including family settings. It is time to cook our children, preparing them for tomorrow. We are approaching the season in Nigeria where only the RUGGED, will survive. How will your ward fare?

If the present generation of Nigerian pilots retires, will you fly a plane flown by a young Nigerian pilot, If trained in Nigeria ? People now have first class, who cannot spell GRADUATE or read an article without bomb blast! Which Way Nigeria ?, Which Way Nigerians!! Is this how we will ALL sit and watch this country SINK?    

 (Please forward to as many Nigerian parents as you know)

...dubbed from a friend...

My Independence

I had always wondered at People’s reasons for celebrating the independence! For 20 years I have celebrated my independence by either donning a Green and white t-shirt with some witty Nigerian slogan written on it or some form of traditional attire and teaching either a local Nigerian game or telling a folklore or tortoise story in some school!

My reasons for celebrating my independence are plenty! Am I proud of my country? The answer would be yes and why not! I have a roof over my head! I can wear what I like, say what I want, I am free! I may not be as wealthy as I want to be but I see a future where it can happen for me. What more do I have to celebrate? I see and hear people make the mistake of crying that Nigeria is now 51 and headed no where. Actually is it No Where or Now here!

Many make the mistake of comparing our great country to the Americas or Great Britain or China! How old are these countries? How many wars did they fight? How unstable was their economy? They worked it till they got it right! Think first we are only 51yrs old. Our country is still very young! We have come so far and yet our generation is still blind to that fact!

A 51 year old man and a 51 year old country are not the same and should not be compared! Man lives to max 120yrs but a country- generations! Have we forgotten so soon our social studies and history? Have we forgotten those days when ignorance was the biggest destroyer of our great nation! Have we forgotten so soon the ethnic and tribal wars that ravaged our country and killed so many? Do we need to be reminded of the pains that our fathers went through? Have we forgotten when all we wanted was democracy? Freedom to say what was our minds without being criticized, arrested or even killed! Have we forgotten the lyrics of Fela in his songs? Have we forgotten so soon the military reign of terror?

We are at a time when our  problems are power, infrastructure and employment. We sit down in our houses and offices and complain of how bad the country is going! We do not hide in terror or look for ways to run to our villages. We are the lucky few yet ungrateful! Our banana republic as one of my cousins referred to our country yet we have no idea of all the parts this great country played in the liberation of many African countries like South Africa, Liberia, and others.

Our biggest problems now are boko haram and the niger delta militants and the internet scam and even these are slowly fading away. Everyday amidst the corruption and the critiscms of our people our leaders still work! All in the bid to making our country a better place. As I go to my office everyday I look out my window and see the number of foreign investors growing everyday. If my fellow people say we are not getting it right then what are these people seeing that we are not seeing or what are they realizing that we are blind to?

I sit back and reminisce at the old stories my parents and other older friends have told me about the different troubles that have befallen our country in the past, about the Biafran War, stories that touch the heart (not the super story on our screens) some of which I will retell later! However here is one for you to read!

 My Biafra as told by The Prince

Driving my daughter to school, today, I heard something about American wounded warriors, on WTOP New. I wondered why Americans call all their soldiers warriors. In my book, not everyone who dons the uniform is a warrior. A soldier may be, but not a warrior. When a warrior enters the battlefield, things happen. Drifting into reminiscence, my experiences of the Nigeria-Biafra war flooded my head. Tears blurred my vision and lumps filled my throat, as it all came back to me...

I remembered the community of which I became an identifiable part. For the longest three years of my life, these were family. There was nothing like a smell of gunpowder in the morning, and the occasional smell of blood reminded us that it was no child’s play. We could be here, and gone the next minute. 

Firstly, let me mention the Expatriates, mostly French who fought with us to Defend Biafra, who received no thanks for their trouble. Jealousy reared its ugly, green head, and irrespective of how it would affect the fighting men, they were sent packing, and things were never the same again.

There was Col. Steiner, Founder and Commanding officer of Majors Guards that later grew into the 4th Biafran Commando Brigade, headquartered at Madonna High School, Ihitte.

Col. Russel, Commanding Officer, 4th Commando Brigade, after Col Steiner left.

Major William Taft, Officer in charge of training, Major’s Guards. Some of his training regimen comprised having soldiers crawl under a sustained barrage of bullets levelled at about a 14” off the ground. His doctrine was that 3% casualty was permissible during combat training. Who would argue with a white Commanding Officer?

Capt. Armand, Commanding Officer, Ahuada Strike Force. I was his bodyguard until the expatriates left. From him I learned everything I knew about field tactics, unarmed/hand-to-hand combat, and escape in the event of a capture. These abilities paid off, big time.

Capt. Billewa (not sure of spelling), first Commanding Officer Nsukka Strike Force or Ogoja Strike Force, I’ve forgotten which. He was fondly referred to as “Papa vou,” I guess because the Expatriates spoke no English and that was how French sounded to us. He was once wounded at the Port Harcourt sector.

Lt. Toomy, Commading Officer, Biafran Par Commando and Marine Commando (Our mini version of the Air Force and Navy, respectively. It’s a long story.

Resultant of the Infantry jealousy, the Expatriates were asked to leave, and the 4th Biafran Commando Brigade was assimilated into the 2nd Infantry Division. For all intent and purposes, we lost the SAG designation, as we began soldiering like the Infantry, holding grounds and stuff, which we weren’t structured or trained to do.

We were a strike force. Our main responsibilities were to hit the enemy, gain ground, and leave the ground holding to the Infantry, as we moved on to another theater of the war. When our Commanders left, we had to make the best of the situation. These are the men who, for me, made the military a home away from home, and fighting, the most fun it could be. 

Lt. Nwanke, the most exuberant and energetic Biafran officer I ever knew, who wore his busted hand as a badge of honour, swearing to do it again if the opportunity presented itself.

Lt. Ogbuka, the only human who took a whole mortar round on his head, and lived to talk about it. Not a giant of a man, I remember him, beards and all.

Capt. Nkenine, from Ishi-nweke, Officer Commanding Tactical Headquarters, always smiling, even in the battlefield.

Sergeant Major Adam (WO II) from Orie-agu, who governed Ahuada Strike Force at down time and charged up the frontlines with his “atilogwu” ensemble during combat.

Drill Sergeant Mbe from Onicha Ezinihitte, who never spoke much of English and yet trained out soldiers we could depend on.

Sergeant Major Ekwunife (WO II) Nsukka Strike Force, the administrator with a huge heart and soul.

Major Okoro, Nsukka Strike Force (Strategic Commander, as he was fondly called), His pet name for me was Operational Lee. He was my Commanding officer till the end of hostilities.

Col. Agu, 4th Commando Brigade, my Brigade Commander who nicknamed me Able Serge (we met when I was yet a Sergeant), and later field-commissioned me to show an infantry battalion, sent to reinforce or Strike Force, how soldiering was done.

Major Otigbuo, Ahuada Strike Force, and my very first Biafran Commanding Officer, and the most handsome man to ever put on a uniform. When he was yet the Strike Force 2nd in Command, he took over my 2429 LMG when I was called up to be a bodyguard to French Capt Armand, then Commanding officer. That same evening, I watched him, then Capt. Otigbuo, play swordsmanship with a Nigerian jet fighter that came to strafe our Oba Girls High School camp. I wished so hard to lay my hands on another LMG so we could do this dance, together.

Capt. Luke Onyeneho, my dear uncle, who tried his damnedest to keep me from joining the military, knowing it was not a place for kids. But hey, stubbornness won out, and I joined the SAG (Special Assignment Group) of the Biafran Commando. He was killed at Mkpor Junction. He was brought home and buried on his birthday

Corporal Donatus Ibeh, another uncle of mine who was chef for an infantry battalion, I’ve forgotten which. He cooked up a storm and fed the soldiers no matter how chaotic things got.

Sergeant Major Albert Obieje, my boyhood friend whom everybody thought of as my brother. Post primary school, while I went off to High School, Albert joined the Nigerian Army, and later the Eastern Command. He introduced me to the Bren Group, a group selected for marksmanship and charged with manning machine guns and devices such as the bazooka, and RPG, rocket propelled grenades. He was fondly called Bazooka, as it was his favoured weapon. He never saw an armored vehicle, tank, or saladin he didn’t pursue. One of them dropped a shell on him as we attempted to clear Dumez and Onitsha Prisons Complex. Till his death, he carried a bullet, from a prior wound, in his head. 

Lt. Alabama (Forgive me for forgetting his name), the flamboyant officer that made soldiering funfest it was for me. 

Lt. Alpha Uduma, our spiritual guide. He is from Uwanna, Afikpo. In his quarters, we communed with our Maker.

Lt. Chris Unegbu, form Ogbe Ahiara, a true wounded warrior, who took me to Owerri Pay and Records, slicing through a series of checkpoints, to make sure my allotment got to my Mother.

Tales of Fearlessness and bravery cannot be told without a mention of my father, HRH, Eze Joseph I Onyeheho, Onugotu Onicha Amairi. Towards the conclusion of the conflict, while everyone else was fleeing the advance of the Federal troops, he armed himself with his five-shooter rifle, called his younger brother Nze Edmund Onyeneho, and Chief Ben Osuoma, both of whom had a double barreled rifle, to go defend Onicha. He vowed that his dominion would never be over-run or taken by the Federal troops as long as he lived. 

They ambushed the advancing soldiers at Nkwo-Umuevu. The trio opened fire at the approaching soldiers. Of course, it took but a minute for them to realize that one doesn’t take a sick to a nuclear war, as the soldiers let them have it. Tank fire, machine gun, automatic weapons, mortar shells, all were in the mix. The trio took to their heels, to borrow a cliché, in different directions. 

My father returned to the palace via a shot-cut. He brought out his throne, dressed up in his full regalia, and sitting straight as an arrow, he proudly waited for his execution. When the soldiers arrived, they asked him, “Baba, na you be chief?” My father answered in the affirmative, adding that he was the traditional ruler of the Autonomous Community they were standing on.

He almost got his “death wish” when the soldiers found his rifle in his bedchamber. My father claimed ownership of the gun, and the soldiers were about to make a big deal of it. Then, the Commanding officer told my father that he should not be in possession of such a weapon. He broke it on the ground and bid my father farewell, as they left.

About all these warriors, and all the warriors of 4th Biafran Commando Brigade, who very fondly dubbed me “Guitar Boy,” I could not say enough. I salute you all. I have no knowledge of any dead or alive, and so the possibility of a happy reunion seems an improbable prospect. I love you all and will never, ever forget you.

We were great Biafrans then, and we are greater Nigerians now, always faithful.

As much as I regret not any second of it, I’m not sure pride is the word for it, given that war is never a good thing, regardless of the degree and extent to which it’s engaged in. I actuality, I wasn’t describing my war experiences. I doubt that facebook would have enough space to harbour the volume should I decide to scribble them. I was only romancing the memory of the men whom, to the best of my personal knowledge, I saw as genuine, authentic warriors.

Regarding committing my experiences to the pages, a number of things did discourage me. I started keeping a journal in the beginning, but the mobile nature of my outfit would not permit me to retain whatever earthly possession I had. At a point, all I had in this wide world were my uniform, my sub machinegun, and my guitar, which my mother bought me. Even the guitar, I lost at Umuahia.

Furthermore, I believed that those who wrote a book did so for pecuniary incentives, even though some of them never had any first-hand experience of the event they wrote about. I also believe that history has already had enough to chew on. Then again, where would I start? In its stead, I would share my experience with anyone who desires to author a book, on the condition that I am not mentioned in it.

There are some books on the shelves that are ridiculously a mere paraphrase of other journals. I have some historic facts that you wouldn’t find in most books, if not all. For example how many historians took the time to note that Ojukwu was not the first Military governor of the East? David Ejoor of the then Midwest was. Chukwuemeka Ojukwu from the East governed the North. Hassan Katsina was in the West, while Francis Adekunle Fajuyi was in the Midwest.

However, this arrangement lasted three days, and the governors were repatriated to their region of birth, Bringing Ojukwu to Enugu. It was part of Aguiyi's scheme to maintain a unitary united Nigeria. Anyway, it’s neither there nor here. Just wanted to put that one out

Every ounce of bravery or heroics I performed on the battlefield always rode on the back of a ton of fear. I just learned not to let the fear seep through. The dividends were three fold. (1) The nation had to be certain that a million dollar with of equipments were trusted in capable hands. (2) It was necessary that I show that I was worth every ounce of confidence reposed in my ability to protect and care for the men in my charge. (3) Most importantly, the appearance of invincibility was an invaluable tool in securing the love, respect, and confidence of the men under my care. They had to know that, in my care, they were ok. 

I must admit that some exhibitions were borderline stupidity or outright lunacy, looking in the rear view mirror now. Considering that I joined the military at a ripe old age of 16, against the wishes of my parents, all I managed to prove was that God indeed takes care of fools.

I still scratch my head when the issue of writing a book comes up. It’s impossible to write about my wartime experience without coming off as conceited, arrogant, and or pompous. These are characteristics that leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Nevertheless, I thank you for appreciating the sacrifices that needed to be made.

.....The Prince

Okay back to me

This is only a kiss of what our people went through! We need to remember that those are days long gone! Days that we would not want to go back to! If I have provoked you well good! (positively or negatively) I am not sorry!

My friend Ifeka did say and I end with that

“It’s so heart breaking how much hope Nigerians have lost in Nigeria without any glimpse of hope for a better country... 

Its Independence...a time that calls for a Grand Celebration... A time to celebrate our country...

As we celebrate in our different ways... I implore us all to have a sober reflection... to resolve to continuously have a positive mind for our dear Nation...

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said "In the truest Sense, Freedom cannot be Bestowed; It must be achieved"... Let us all resolve to work together and contribute in our little ways to make our country Great again...

For Me I have decided to stay positive, Talk Positive and act positive... Cos it will only take a collective conscious effort on our parts individually... To create that Nigeria  of our dream...”

Happy independence Celebration!!

Long Live Nigeria! Long Live Nigerians!

I guess you all get the gist!

Debbie Ubaru

ENEMY OF THE ORDINARY

In sociology, the ordinary refers to the regular staff or the fully recognized class or the common people.

“The ordinary” is usually neglected at the time of any distribution of “scarce value” amongst members of the society – for the society in which we belong is structured in classes. The problem of inequality has made it possible for some people to determine the frame value of some people

It is this determinant factor that makes the upper class become the enemy of the ordinary. Those who own the means of production – the labour power – make effective and efficient production thereby determining the parameters of who is who in the society. So the group sharing a common relationship to the means of production could only be considered as the true class.
Because this group of people or class possesses class consciousness, they consciously or unconsciously antagonize the major class and the ordinary in sharing the scarce value and or in determining the cost of their labour.

The fundamental feature of class is economic, that is the person’s position in the economic order plays the major role in fixing his position or place in the society. The economic order is based on the person’s economic life, chances or opportunities so that those whose chances are narrow feel victimized or used for little or nothing by the true class.
When they therefore look at themselves and can not locate their feature in the social or political order. They feel either cheated or victimized. This group or set of class are not well fixed in the economic, social and or political orders.

They also feel that there is a system based policy of which those in the true class use to place them where they now are. The lower class (the ordinary) feels inwardly that he is being victimized by the upper class (the true class), hence the ordinary finds his behavior affected positively or negatively by trying to satisfy his needs in life. This makes the true class the enemy of the ordinary.

Behaviour is caused by striving for the satisfaction of needs in life, when there is no sound policy to ease the strife to satisfy all the needs, the ordinary feels that his enemy – the one above him have side tracked him for their personal benefits. The enemy of the ordinary therefore is he that determines the future of the ordinary.

DEBBIE UBARU

My own side of the story (pt8)

Days passed by howbeit slowly! The whole school had heard about Devorah the Witch! My classes were always interrupted, its either one teacher wanted me to narrate a story I dint know anything about except for the role as a witch that had been given me or for their staff room amusement. It was so bad that the teacher (a sister) that was given my pocket money to keep for me and give me anytime I needed it decided that as a witch I didn’t deserve it. In fact she still owes my parent N250 till date.

Prep was almost always interrupted; always some senior student in some senior block either wanted to punish me, or send me on some ridiculous message hoping I will defy her so that they will have a chance to bully me or use me to practice amateur exorcism. Every time I passed, it wasn’t Holy water or blessed salt or blessed oil that was being sprayed on me to my amusement, bewilderment and annoyance. It was because of all this deliverance attempts I had stopped going to my normal church, mid week services and fellowships and had started going to catholic mass on Sundays though I wasn’t a catholic. I was tired and fed-up of being used as topic for repentance, I was tired of every service ending with an alter call where all the girls will be looking at me waiting for me to stand up and confess and accept Christ and denounce witchcraft. I could no longer stand them trying to deliver me! I wasn’t possessed and I wasn’t a witch. I was just a falsely accused and tired child. Catholic Mass gave me peace. I wasn’t an example, I wasn’t judged! I wasn’t ridiculed; the sisters in church didn’t bother me. The Rev. Father allowed me to take Holy Communion. It was nice and peaceful! I resolved that for my remaining time in School I will become a Catholic.

I couldn’t have a decent nap in the afternoons. I would sneak out to hidden places just to get some rest or be alone or do my homework. I was doing badly in school which was very unlikely considering I was the typical brilliant child, I couldn’t say if the teachers were taking it out on me or I was really doing badly. I know I wasn’t submitting my homework on time because they were almost always incomplete because I never had enough time to focus on them.

I had been banished from the dining room; eating everyday had become an ordeal! The kitchen women allowed me to scrap up scraps after everyone had eaten either in the afternoon or evening! With that at least I had one meal, then a couple of times I would go to Matron’s house to have another meal! I wasn’t eaten regularly and I had become so much thinner but I wasn’t going to die of starvation just yet!

I was no longer allowed to have my bath in the morning with the other girls so I had to wait till when they left for classes before I could have my bath or do my laundry which meant that I was always late for classes. It was on one of those days, one morning that I had just had my bath and dressed up for school but my only housewear was dirty and I needed to wash it so it could dry before I got back from classes. In the beginning, I had come to school with 2 pairs of everything, My Mum had labelled everything with my name boldly which at this point was to my disadvantage because the girls were determined to frustrate me out of school that almost everything that I washed or kept as soon as they saw my name on it, they threw them out in places where I won’t be able to find them. I almost always never found them and even if I did they were unsalvageable. I couldn’t afford to buy spare clothes from the laundry man so I had to make do with whatever I had left. Once they had taken my glasses from the cupboard where i kept them and whoever it was had thrown them into the gutter! I spent 2 days looking for it! And when I eventually found them they were covered with green algae! I washed and washed but I could never get the algae completely off the rims!Sigh! I wore them like that. Another time I came back from prep and found my mattress missing! That night I slept on the iron spring and woke up in the morning with criss-cross spring marks all over my body! I was so afraid to take of my rubber shoes because I was afraid that it will be taken as well and then I would end up walking around bare feet. My slippers, my canvas and my other pair of sandals had been stolen so the one pair I had left I hadn’t removed from my feet in over a week. I had asked the Nun who had my pocket money to give me some so I could buy another pair of slippers but she totally refused me! My own money! I had no choice! This one pair of sandals on my feet was going to stay on my feet. I bathed in them, walked in them, and slept in them and I grew a feet fungal infection just because of that. My feet stank! But that was the least of my worries.

Anyways like I said it was one of those mornings, I was off course hungry, tired and sad. Wishing at some point I could go back home and never have to see the 4 walls of FGGC Owerri, I was wishing things were different, I was wishing I had something to eat, anything at all! I was wishing when a senior walked up to me! She wasn’t someone I had really noticed before or seen! She wasn’t one of those that had punished me or sent me on ridiculous errands. She looked nice in her navy blue skirt and light blue blouse! I saw her walking in my direction and I thought to myself here comes trouble! I knew I wasn’t supposed to be in the dormitory at that time but I dint have much of a choice! It was my only chance to do personal stuff without being tormented. I had stopped crying and kept my face down concentrating too hard on the clothes I was washing. I was hoping and praying in my mind that she just leaves me alone and goes away! Why did my luck just have to go rotten continuously?

She walked up to me and asked me in the words and in the voice I can never forget! ‘Have you eaten?’ remembering that day! A fresh set of tears began to flow! I dint answer! I wasn’t sure what to answer! She asked me again the same question! I still looked down and said No! She paused then she asked me, ‘do u like cornflakes?’ Cornflakes????? I thought to myself is she joking? Those were like my favourite cereal of all time! Cornflakes???? I loved cornflakes! I could eat it the whole day! Morning, noon and night. Heck! I still do like cornflakes! I looked at her with tears in my eyes! Yes I do like cornflakes I answered her in the smallest voice ever to come from my lips! she smiled! It was the most beautiful smile I had seen in a long time! I smiled right back at her! Then she said, ‘oya hurry up so you can have some and then we can walk to class okay?!

Quickly I rinsed off the clothes and spread them. I left the buckets, they weren’t mine anyways, and I followed her to her room. Her room wasn’t far from mine so I was surprised I didn’t know her I mean she was in SS2. She had a nice corner decorated with pictures and stuff. She told me to seat and I sat quietly! She opened her locker and I peeped! She had lots of goodies in it! It was a treasure chest for any girl. She brought out a bowl, sugar, milk, cornflakes and water. I heard my tummy rumble! Food! It felt good to know I would eat! I made the cornflakes just the way I liked it! Not waiting for the cornflakes to soak in the milk! Still crunchy just the way I loved it. Perfect! I must have eaten like half of the pack of cornflakes! It was unbelievable and so gooooood! She told me her name was Nwanne but everyone called her Nwi! She knew my name already! She asked me basic stuff like where I was from and all! She told me she had a younger sister in jss3. We chatted a while and she told me it would be ok and that I was free to come to corner at any time! When I was done she asked me if I was ok and I told her I was! She rinsed off the bowl and said we should go to our classes!

I walked with her and we chatted all the way! When she got to senior block she watched me walk on, I turned and she waved! I smiled! I had a friend and I had eaten! I wasn’t alone anymore It felt good. With a smile on my face, I stepped into class!

My own side of the story (pt7)

As if the things already happening in my life were not bad enough! Haba! Which kain winch wahala be all dis eh! I was as surprised as they all were! I wasn’t expecting it and they were all acting like I took the light, I was a bit confused and I didn’t really know what to do, I was having so much rotten luck recently and truthfully I dint need any more controversial coincidences! I stood in front of the class in the dark waiting for all mighty NEPA to bring the light or for the school generator to come on, whichever came first. It was taking a bit longer than usual; I could hear the girls whispering amongst themselves wondering if the rumours that had been spreading were indeed facts! I stood there in front of the class wondering what sort of interrogations I would be getting and I was half hoping that I won’t be given any unnecessary punishments or asked any witchy questions though I was quite sure that was the precise reason I had been summoned. I sighed! My life was just getting more and more complicated! It seemed minutes had passed by and still no lights and then out of nowhere I heard someone in the dark say, ‘jump out!’ I knew she was referring to me but I wasn’t sure what to do or say so I just stepped out of the classroom. It was dark and no one would know if I jumped or not; besides it won’t make any difference.

If the first incidence with the light was a coincidence well this time fate had it in for me because as soon as I stepped out, whether it was NEPA that brought back the light or the generators had finally kicked in, all I knew was that I stepped out of the classroom and voila! The lights came back on! I didn’t really care for coincidences but I didn’t want to find out what those girls would do to me! As soon as I saw they were distracted by the amazing occurrences of a stupid coincidence, I took off as fast as my legs would carry me! I could hear them shouting at me! Calling me all sorts of names! Why did things have to go from bad to worse for me!

I ran half way and then I started walking to the dining hall area! It would soon be time for dinner! In the distance I could hear the bell signalling the end of prep time! Sigh! Here I was hoping that the whole witch thingy would just about die off instead it was just getting worse! I felt like screaming and shouting and killing someone! I was just so frustrated! Why me of all people?! It had been just a little more than 24 hours since I was first accused of witchcraft and my whole life had just about changed! I hated Chinenye even more; I hated her with every fibre in my being! I hated them all! My mum would say hate was a strong word but I dint care I hated them all and her especially! She was evil! I wished for all the horribly bad things to happen to her, I wished she’d drop dead! I wished she’d choke on her food! I wished she’d fall sick and die, I wished she not wake up ever again! But above all I wished she would just open up and tell people that it was all a lie! I wished in vain! And I didn’t have supernatural powers so I couldn’t do anything to her either! I cried and cried! I wished I was home where I was safe with my family and my real friends! Where my biggest offence was sleeping too much! I hid, crouched in one of the dark corners near the hall! Thank God for the cover of night!

I calmed down wiping the tears from my eyes and then the bell went off again this time signalling dinner time! I dint know if I should wait for the girls to come or I should go in first! I wasn’t sure if I should sit down or go to the kitchen and get the food for my table! I wasn’t sure of anything; I could hear my heartbeat in my head! I was terrified, so much so I was willing to just forget the food and go to the hostel! Then I heard the rumble in my belly and that was the decider! Ahh dang it! I was hungry and I wanted to eat.

I watched the girls come in and some head for the kitchen! I watched my table which was visible from the door. I counted 6 girls at the table, and then 2 of them stood up and went to the kitchen. I entered the dining hall and went straight to the table! I avoided the eyes of every girl in the room. I tried to sit down at the table but the girls covered all the available spaces with hands and legs and they didn’t let me sit! I went around to the other side of the table and they blocked it too. I looked around for any other table that had space so I could seat, but whichever table I went to the girls at that table would block me from sitting. The 2 girls followed by a number of girls from the kitchen came back to the dining room with the food! They smell of the food made my tummy growl! They dropped the food on the table, I stood there now confused. I walked back to my table and the girls at my table told me in very clear words that I could not eat with them, that no girl wanted to eat with a witch. I told them I wasn’t a witch and that was all some made up story, I insisted that I had every right to sit and eat or at least take my fair share of the food but they refused!

I noticed that some girls started to join my tablemates! I couldn’t face them all! So I started moving backwards towards the door slowly! I was so hungry, I pleaded with them to please let me take some food but they refused! One SS1 girl came and took my plate and cup from my hands and threw them outside! She said I had no right being in the hall with them! I had kept on working backwards and soon I felt a drift of cold air on my legs so I knew I was almost at the doorway. I looked at the face of the girls; there could easily have been 30 – 40 girls standing menacingly in front of me walking towards me and I was really scared of being lynched. I could hear the growl in my tummy but my heartbeat was a lot faster and louder because I was very afraid!

I took another step backwards and miscalculated and stumbled and fell backwards, I hit the floor with a loud thud! The girls laughed at me and happily went in to eat! I picked myself up gingerly, looked into the dining room with longing but I didn’t have the liver to enter. I turned and started to look for my plate and cup that had been flung out! My Mum will kill me if I lost them! I started crying while searching for them. It was difficult to find because it was dark! I looked and looked everywhere! I was soo hungry, My glasses were wet from tears and my sights were blurry but I kept looking until finally I found my plate I picked it up, washed it and then headed for the dorm! I told myself I would come the next day when it was bright to search for my cup!

I walked back to the dorm and by this time I was crying so hard! I don’t remember if it was from not eating or not being allowed to eat! But I cried. The only other place I could go to for free food was the Matron’s house but it was already too late so I just had to bear it besides there was no need bothering her this late maybe another time! I had to find another way to find food. So many thoughts were running around riotously in my head as I headed straight to my room, the week had just started, it was just Monday! How would the rest of my week turn out to be! Fear no go let me go chop for dining hall again when those girls dey there! Dey fit chop me to pieces! I was going to have to befriend the kitchen women somehow so they could give me food directly from the kitchen, that way I wouldn’t have to starve to death! But for tonight at least I had some provisions left thank God! I opened my locker! I still had some ovaltine and some oxford cabin biscuits which I hated! My mum had insisted that I take them with me and I usually gave them out so anyone who wanted! She had removed them from the usual box they came in and put them in a plastic container to keep air from making them soft! Thank God for my Mum, I opened them and I ate some!

Yum yum! Cabin biscuits had never tasted so good!

My own side of the story (pt6)

I woke up to complete silence in the room, I lay still in bed while my thoughts ran a summary of the events of the previous day and tears flowed down my face! It wasn’t fair! I hadn’t done anything to deserve these malicious lies that had been told against me! I got up and looked around, there was no one! That was odd! Normally the hustle and bustle associated with Monday mornings were at its loudest! There were usually girls booking turns to have their bath in the bathrooms and some bathing outside. Girls who dint have water would beg from those that did have promising to fetch it back when they came back. Seniors barking out orders and beds being hurriedly made, girls dressing up for classes, and rushing to catch breakfast before classes started! I checked my wristwatch! No wonder! It was a few minutes after 8! I had overslept! Normally girls who wake up earlier wake the others that didn’t hear the wake up bell! So it was pretty weird to wake up to total silence. It was already bright! Dang! Those girls took those witchy accusations pretty seriously! So serious they totally ignored me! Left me alone and now I overslept! Psheeeww!

I stuck my hands under my pillow and located my glass case, took out my glasses and wore them. Couldn’t see anything without them! Then I scurried down from the bed (top bunk) stepping on my bunkmate’s locker which was beside the bed and jumped down. I looked under my bed for my water. I had taken time to fetch them the day before just after lunch! To my horror I couldn’t find my bucket or my plastic container. My mum had taken time to inscribe my name on them so they would be easy to find if they were ever stolen! As dem fear me reach! Dem no fear to kpake my water! Dem no fear say juju or witchcraft fit dey inside the water! Pschhew! Well someone in this dorm will have to have water that I will use to have my bath this morning! I started searching from bed to bed! I found my bucket a couple of rows down and off course it was empty! Not long after I found a bucket of water! I turned it into my bucket and on my way back I found my keg at some senior’s corner and thank God there still was some drinking water in it. I carried it!

I hurriedly had my bath, dressed up in my light blue shirt and navy blue pinafore, brushed my teeth and took off to class! I had missed breakfast so I will have to do with lunch! I then headed straight to the JSS block. Thankfully on my way to class no seniors or teachers stopped me. I got to class, thankfully again the teacher for the second period was late! Integrated Science! As I stepped into the classroom! The loud chatter I had heard from outside became silence! Sigh! Those who were aware of what had happened the previous day were updating those who didn’t. And somehow along the line the story got even more contorted. Now I had learnt that during the confrontation I had uttered some sort of incantations which had thrown Chinenye into a fit! I said nothing! Chinenye’s younger cousin was in my class so she was giving them her version of the story, I wasn’t shocked, we had never seen eye to eye about anything! The students with their seats close to mine had shifted their desks to give me as much space as could possibly be allowed. our teacher wasn’t going to show up so I opened my desk and brought out one of our literature textbooks ‘as you like it’ by Shakespeare and started reading!

Soon enough i could see from a corner of my eyes that other girls from our block where coming to peep and stare at me through the windows! It seemed everyone was waiting for something! Probably for me to vanish or explode or fight or just something to fuel the gossip! At the thought i smiled sadly, i really dint have the energy for any more confrontation! I had lost all my friends in the twinkle of an eye! I was hungry! Visiting day was still 3wks away! I just wanted to be left alone!

We went through the remaining of the classes without any unnecessary excitement! During English class, we were told we would be having an out of school drama act! I signed up! I couldn’t care less! Somehow I had to bring back some sort of normalcy to my life! Classes ended! I rushed back to my room and then headed for lunch room! I was early but I just couldn’t sit in the room and stare at those staring at me! I entered the lost and found/laundry room; it is close to the lunch room! I had met the nice but a bit elderly laundry man! We chatted a while, I looked around and soon after I heard the lunch bell ring! I left the laundry room and entered the lunch room! Since I was early I went to the kitchen to carry the pot for our table! On getting to the table, half of the girls ran! Table for 8 had now become table for 3! I dished my food and sat down waiting for the prayers to start so we could eat. I totally ignored every other person in the room! I kept my head low and avoided everyone’s gaze! I just wanted to eat and go! I could make out conversations around me and kept on hearing my name and witch in the same sentence. I sighed! It was going to be another long day!

After prayers! I hurriedly gobbled my food and headed straight for the tap to wash my plate and then to the dorm! I got to the dorm took my bucket to the tap to fetch water! I was just trying to be busy till prep time when we would have to go and read! As i got back to the room, my bunkmate howbeit reluctantly told me that some seniors in Greenhouse had sent for me. I told her thanks but i wasn’t planning to answer anybody just yet. I climbed my bed and decided to take a nap till prep time.

I heard the bell for prep go! I heard the girls start leaving the room! I counted slowly to 50 hoping that most girls would be well on their way before I left. I knew if I was caught in the room while others were at prep I would be punished! As I heard them leave I got up, jumped down and took off to prep! I could see the girls huddled together in front of me no doubt still talking about me! It was so painful! I kept on asking myself, ‘why me! Why me! What did I do?’ as soon as I got to class! I started on my assignments, and then I continued reading my novel!

I was pretty engrossed in the book and oblivious to the going-ons around me! We had a senior monitoring us so there was a limit to the noise that could be made except she wasn’t around. Not long after the same seniors from green house again sent for me to come to the SS2 block! And this time I couldn’t avoid it! I put my books away in my desk and followed the JSS 3 girl they had sent to call me. They had asked her to make sure I followed her back! It was already about 6pm and it was the period of longer nights and shorter days so it was already getting dark. I got to the class and waited outside the door! No junior girl was allowed to enter a senior girl’s class without first being asked to come in. I waited by the entrance while the JSS 3 girl went in and told them she had brought me and then she was dismissed! She came out and left! I was still standing there! I could see into the class as it was brightly lit. I hated seniors! Their wahala was too much joo! After waiting endlessly! I heard someone (one of the girls) say in a loud voice, ‘Jump in!’ when they ask you to jump! You jump! So I jumped in! And the lights went out! Total black out! Kai!

My own side of the story (pt5)

I’m lying in bed with my legs crossed propped up on a pillow, my eyes closed and I’m going back in time to that day. The day time actually for me stood still. I had never felt more alone in my life. I was the youngest kid in the school surrounded by all these girls and from their looks I could see admiration change to something between fear, anger and bewilderment. I could read the questions in their eyes, ‘how could someone so small be able to cause so much harm and be so feared?’

I stood still and I still hadn’t said a single word. Where would I start? They wouldn’t believe me anyway! What would I say in my defence? I dint have powers! I knew that and I wasn’t a witch either! Though at that point I wished I was someone with super powers! It would have been so cool to have powers! Hypnotic powers to bend everyone to my will or a memory wipe so they would forget everything! Anything! My mind was running around in thoughts!
I stared at Chinenye! I gazed at her intently! I watched her and I was little amused at the tears and at the words that continuously poured from her lying lips being eaten up by the girls around her. I continued to look at her saying nothing doing nothing just standing there and looking at her. Slowly, very slowly my own fear and terror turned to rage and hatred. I was angry, very angry at her, at them all! I had done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment! All I wanted was to have a life of my own! I dint want one created by someone! I continued looking at her thinking she was going to stop but things got worse!

The accusations came out vehemently; I was being accused of initiating a bunch of girls who happened to be day students so no one could find them! Then I was accused of stopping girls from going to church including her. She was catholic I was protestant, we didn’t go to the same church and I never missed a church service. Yet I stopped her from going to church? I was accused of killing her grandfather an Mbadiwe who died before I was born! On hearing this, I actually smirked! That was the most hilarious thing I had heard so far! I dint even know the man so she must have been joking. I had read a lot of books and I had a pretty good idea of how some of these stuff worked! My dad was a Deliverance Minister, a Reverend! I knew how it worked! I knew witches could only affect people when they are invited into the family. And invitation could only be done if a member of the family that was a witch invited them in. So even if I was a witch which I wasn’t there’s no way it would have been possible seeing we had just met in school. Off course I couldn’t tell them all that! How would it sound? How does it sound now? Besides they already took my smile the wrong way! It doesn’t always pay to be a know-it-all!

I had been standing close to 3 hours with all the hysteria around me, the gist had spread, so the group of girls had really increased and well you know bad news kinda spreads pretty fast! It wasn’t long before the whole school had heard! Seeing as the girls dint quite know what to do with the unfolding situation, they collectively decided that it was best to take us to the principal’s house.

After waiting a few minutes anxiously, we were told the principal wasn’t home! At this point they took us to the matron’s house; we waited for her to come out. Chinenye was still maintaining her story, I was still puzzled and when she was asked to face me she freaked and started crying again that she couldn’t look at my face that I was going to do lots of horrible things to her, that she wasn’t strong enough spiritually to face me. It was a little too much for me. I was hungry and tired! I told them all at that point that it was pointless. When they heard me speak everywhere became quiet!
You could hear a pin drop in the distance, the rustle in the trees from the soft evening breeze was so audible. The silence was like sweet music! I looked at them all, moving my gaze from one pair of eyes to another from one face to another and finally my gaze rested on Chinenye and I told her in hushed tones, ‘its enough!’ ‘I have heard enough!’ I told her, ‘Now would be a good time to tell the truth!’ she averted her gaze! I knew she was lying! She knew she was lying! What I really wanted to know was why she was doing it anyway! She said nothing! At this point the matron came out! The senior girl with us told her what had happened and Matron just laughed. She said, ‘you girls just like looking for attention! Go back to your hostels and forget about it, I’m sure Dvora is no witch and Chinenye is just making up these things!’

Well we dispersed and I hoped that everything would end there! I hoped that we would laugh it all like one big joke! I got back to the hostel picked up my plates and hurried to the dining hall as it was time for dinner! The dining hall was abuzz with what had happened! Those that hadn’t heard were being filled in by those that had heard. I heard whispers, ‘that’s the girl that is the witch!’ And warnings like, ‘be careful! I hear she is very powerful and dangerous!’ Phlease!

I tried to ignore it all and just sat on my table waiting for the food. As I sat down the girls around me moved away, giving me some distance. I said to myself, ‘Which Kain wahala be this na?’ I feigned not caring and just waited for the food. When the food came the girl dished for everyone avoiding my plate. I smiled again thinking, ‘Na wa!’ I took the spoon and dished my food! I prayed silently and I ate! Since I entered FGGC that probably was my longest meal ever. The hall was quiet! And I could feel the heat of the stares of all the girls boring holes into my back while I ate. Morsel after morsel of rice I swallowed, I noticed I was barely chewing just swallowing. Everywhere was quiet! The sound of plate to spoon was so loud. I finished eating and I stood up carrying my plate and left the hall. It seemed it was only then after I left the hall that everyone started eating! I could hear the buzz behind me so loud like bees in a hive. I shook my head and walked to the tap to rinse my cutleries! Normally we would have been a lot of girls chattering excitedly, complaining about the food and school the next day and we would rush back to the dorm. But here I was alone. A few girls had come out probably to check if I had gone back to the dormitory. I ignored them all and walked back. My heart was heavy and I was confused! I had no one to stand up for me! I still didn’t understand why Chinenye had said all those things! Why she insisted they were true! It was so confusing! It took a long time to get to quadrangle (my dorm) I was deep in thought! I got to my room, and climbed my bed! I lay down and finally I let the tears flow!

There are many things children have the strength to endure but false accusation wasn’t one of it. I couldn’t take it. If it wasn’t for the fact that I would have been facing a lot of girls I would have fought Chinenye for lying against me! I had to keep my cool! I lay down and my mind wandered around. Soon I could hear the girls coming in to the dorm! I pretended to be asleep! I dint want to be drawn into another argument or discussion and it will soon be lights out anyway! I heard the girls whisper about me! Saying all sorts! The things they said made me cry silently! I knew I had no one, no friend and I had to be strong! Sigh! It was going to be a long term! With these thoughts, I slept off!

My own side of the story (pt4)

We know our parents have different opinions about what schools to put us in when we are approaching our teenage years especially as regards to secondary schools for different reasons. Some say they must be private schools, some say government school. Some say mixed schools some say single gendered school (I mean either an all boys or all girls school) whatever the reason I believe it is usually for good.

Nevertheless, I say put your kids in a mixed school! Why? well when u get a bunch of girls or boys together they tend to be more mischievous since they do not have the distraction usually gotten from being or hanging around with the opposite sex which is socially very healthy (that’s strictly my view!).

But let me explain!

It was one of those nice sunny Sundays, we had come back from service, we already had breakfast and lunch and we were just generally chilling! Some of us that like to sleep like me were taking naps peacefully and others that don’t were grouping together and sharing stories or general gist.

In one corner not so far away from mine a JSS2 girl was being accosted by our seniors as usual, she was being asked to explain her reasons for not going to church that Sunday! She was a tall (for her age then) fair skinned girl with short curly hair. She had a perfect shape and she was of a privileged background! In other words her Papa hold enof pepper mehn! Her name was and still is Chinenye Mbadiwe!

Pause! You might be wondering why I mentioned her name since I have deliberately avoided mentioning any others even mine at first. Well it is because this entire preamble is just so we can get to this point! Pay close attention because inasmuch as this story started about twenty years ago, the story still has not quite gotten to its end!

On a different day and time! Our paths probably may never have crossed and if it were in a mixed school, she will probably be busy receiving or rejecting love advances from one boy or another. Unfortunately her parents like mine thought that a mixed school was a no-no and therefore sent her to an all girls’ school.

Nevertheless on this said day! When asked why she didn’t go to church, she replied that her reason for not going to church was me! Yes! Me! Me! Debbie Debora D'vorah Amarachukwu Nwa ANAGA (daughter of Sam Anaga)
Yes! Yes! I know! Another name! But offcourse it is MY story! I get to be the actor na!

Anyway where was I? Ah yes! She said I was the reason she didn’t go to church that Sunday! Now it is important to note that our paths till that day had not crossed! I mean I knew her younger cousin who happened to share the same room with me before I moved hostels and we were in the same class but she had her clique of friends and I had mine.

How did I get from my beautiful life to being the reason for someone who was of the catholic faith not go to church! And she gave her reasons. She said as I remember vividly like it was just yesterday that her bible had been seized and she had been given specific instructions not to go to church or any other Christian gathering by me! She also said that she had been initiated into a coven a few days ago and she had been having meetings at night at some uncompleted building and that the person responsible for it all was me! Yes me! Small me!

Well it was a girls’ ONLY school! How else do u expect a bunch of very idle girls to behave?!

I was in my world, on my bed napping away and dreaming of spaghetti and meatballs (my favourite food at the time) and what a rude awakening! I felt a bizillion hands on my body waking and shaking me up! I dint even stand a chance! They should try it now! Anyways they jacked me up and escorted me howbeit rudely to my accuser!

I was still in shock and had not been brought up to date yet! So I stood perplexed wondering what the reason was for the excitement and sudden flurry of activities. I stood in front of Chinenye and the words I heard coming from her mouth were, “yes she is the one! She told me not to go to church! She seized my bible! She is our leader and she initiated us! I was so shocked I burst out laughing! That was an April fool’s joke though it wasn’t April! She had to be kidding! Me a witch?! How now? She should just stop! These were my thoughts amidst my uncontrollable laughter! The reaction I however got stunned me! I was still looking at Chinenye waiting for her to say it’s all a joke when the girl burst into tears! See serious crying! No! (Wrong choice of word) WEEPING and screaming! Then she said, "I can’t look at her face! She will kill me! I can’t look at her face! I am scared! Please don’t make me look at her! I am scared so scared! She is too powerful! She will do terrible things to me, to us! Please take me away from her!"

Okaaaaaay?! So no joke! She was either a very good actress or she actually believed what she was saying and it was no longer funny! I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable so I stopped laughing! She was being consoled and protected like seriously! This was ridiculous! It had to be some sort of joke but the looks I was beginning to get were scary! They actually believed her, I was stunned, and I had not uttered one word to my defence. How could I? Where would I start from? What would I say? First I was junior so I wasn’t even allowed to speak unless asked too then secondly I had just been accused? Where would I start from? I still couldn’t believe it! I looked around me and I swear if it wasn’t that those girls were scared to death they probably would have beaten or stoned me to my death! I was in shock! Sleep commot from my eyes sharp sharp! My mouth was dry and I could feel all the hairs on my body standing! I was terrified! No one but me noticed this and how could they? I had been tagged; I had just been accused of being not just a witch but a broom/plantain/groundnut shell flying, night meeting, bible seizing, hypnotizing 75-year old witch, and the leader or head of the coven! with POWERS all in the body of a small 9 year old JSS1 girl!

When things go bad sometimes they go very bad! My life took a turn for the worst! It was the moment I am still struggling to forget!

My own side of the story (pt3)

First term came and went quickly amidst the activities!

I was packed and ready to go! I remember keeping some of my things in Matron’s house for safe keeping! I had lots of stories for my little ones and friends at home. My parents were eager to see me as they had not been able to come for any of the visiting days in school. I understood that it wasn’t so easy to go back and forth from Lagos and they felt they had placed me in good hands (my guardians) in school. Anyways we boarded our Ekene Dilichukwu luxurious bus back to Lagos with glee!

I couldn’t wait for second term to start! My new friends with our stories both real and exaggerated! The excitement and the activities! I had not done so well in my first term exams! It had been average all through and my parents were not happy but they attributed it to my being away from home for the first time and it was quite understandable. Truthfully I was a little distracted and I really dint like sitting at the back of the class! Then again I couldn’t really complain! I only promised to do better!

The holidays came and went quickly, not quick enough for me though because I had double portions in English essays and algebra/mathematics problems everyday from my parents for those weeks I was home from school for holiday to make sure I was on top of my game! Is it so bad to be an average student?
Anyways all packed and ready to go! I was headed back to Owerri!

My hostel Blue house had been a little bit crowded! We were very happy to learn that space was going to open up in the Quadrangle and some of us will be moved! Fortunately or unfortunately I couldn’t quite say for sure at that time I was one of those picked to move and I did. I was assigned a top middle bunk bed space in a small room that held 6 bunks (for y’all that don’t know, it is the iron bed that has up and down bed spaces). Off course all the lower bunks and corner spaces were picked first by the senior girls. This room was just next to a long hall that contained a lot more girls so there was a frenzy of activities during the movement.

Once we were resettled, we reported to the senior in charge! We were acquainted with the rules and regulations and so on and so forth! Saturday duties were assigned as usual! And introductions were completed. Though I quite believe that instead of calling them introductions they should have called them interrogations. We were asked all sorts like the rudimentary names and classes and then there was “where are you from?”, “what do your parents do?”, “where were u born?”, “what language do u speak?”, “talents - do u sing, dance?” e.t.c. and the treatment we got was usually based on the answers from the interrogation. It was never surprising though to hear made-up stories to gain favour.

Classes started and I was determined to do a lot better than I had the previous term! I took my books seriously and I took prep seriously. I joined the drama group as well and some Christian activities (remember my Papa na Pastor so no option of doing otherwise)! Everything was becoming quite normal and I was adapting, I was eating better and I had learnt how to gulp down food quick enough. I learnt how to evade some very demanding seniors and tried to stay hidden away if I dint want to be caught and sent on some ridiculous errands! Matron was nice to me and I went to her place every Sunday for some home cooked meal after church

Visiting Day came quickly and i was very excited! My parents had promised that the first visiting day, they would show up! So on that Sunday, we all trooped to the field awaiting our parents or siblings, uncles, aunties, friends to visit. And boy I waited! It was a hot sunny afternoon. They were vendors selling all sorts of stuff, there was suya, ice-cream, pastries, and lovely things we didn’t readily have access to in school. Parents were coming in and out looking for their kids. The smell of home cooked food was everywhere, haba! Enough jollof rice and big pieces of meat! I swallow spit tire! And my belle sing plenty but I said to myself, “no wahala! Momsie or Popsie or somebody must show somehow, somehow!” so I sat on the stands waiting! I walked to the gate to check and walked back waiting! No one showed up! No message! nobody! I didn’t understand anymore! I mean why wouldn’t anyone come to visit me?! I dint ask for much, just some form of care from home! For the first time I actually felt abandoned, left alone and miserable! It hurt! I ran to my matron’s house and there I cried! How could they have done this to me?! I had told everyone they would come! Someone would come! Why?

Matron consoled me! She made me some food and told me not to worry. She was telling a 9year old child to understand! I had understood enough! Now I was paying for understanding. It dint seem fair! I was very angry and it showed. The next few days following I became rebellious and stubborn. I woke up late. I missed classes or I would come late to class. My parents were too worried about my results but they dint seem to worry about my well being! Well no more!

It didn’t take long before the girls in my new hostel noticed that I was some sort of character. I dint react to anything like Ghost stories or going out scared at night, I wasn’t impressed by anything, I didn’t care for favouritisms! To other girls that seemed pretty weird! Heck! To many girls or ladies now it still seems weird. I dint react to punishments they way others did. I couldn’t care less about the haves or have-nots. I did what I supposed to do to the best of my abilities and if you didn’t like it well, too bad! Some thought I was pretty interesting and I was becoming quite famous, I mean I was the only child in the school with fore knowledge on the going-ons in the holy land (that was a plus) and other girls did not quite like it and decided to do something about it.

They made me pretty famous by the time they were done!