Image Credit: www.jewishjournal.com

I cannot believe that my dad is here. Wow! Talk about a surprise of a life time. To say I am shocked is an understatement of the century. I suppose this is the point where I jump up and down like a crazy person and give him a big hug. But I am too much in a shock to even utter a word. "What's the matter? Don't you remember your dad?" Asks my uncle. I think to myself, "of course I remember him, I just did not expect to walk out of class and see him standing there."  

We all bundle back into the vice principal's office. My dad tells the vice principal that he came to see my sister and I. He will be returning soon to take us with him. We will be leaving the school and will not be returning. He wanted us to have the opportunity now to gather our things together and say goodbye to our friends. Wait! What does he mean by we will not be returning? I'm going to leave all my friends? Why?

As we step outside, a bunch of teachers have gathered outside to greet my father and my uncle. I notice he is handing money out to some of them, especially those who claim that they have been taking care of either my sister or I. Then I notice the head house mistress claiming that she too has been taking care of me. In what world? If by taking care of me, she means punishing me for no reason and trying to get me in trouble, then she certainly has been taking care of me. 

Ideally, I would have vehemently disagreed with her and forbid my father from giving a dime to that woman, but I am still in a ball of sadness about having to leave my friends; so I  keep quiet and let her continue to make her outrageous claims. After what seemed like forever, the hoopla died down and my father and uncle left.

****

In the few weeks following my father's visit to the school, everything has changed. This crazy woman now calls for me to ask how I am doing. I have not received a single punishment. In fact, no teacher has been mean or demanding to me. I have even had a couple say, don't forget to tell your dad that I have been taking care of you. 

Wow! If I knew their kindness and souls could be so easily bought, I would have had the man come back a long time ago. But I have been in a zombie state of mind, thinking about what it would be like not seeing everyone anymore. My friends on the other hand have made sure I have tons of their pictures at hand along with other "forget me not" items. 

All pictures of me have been taken by them as well. It is now at the point where I have to cut myself out of group pictures so that I can give them out to people. I have even gotten an address book so that people can give me their email addresses and other means of reaching them. This is just so unreal.

The day arrived. I said goodbye to everyone. I have thoroughly cried my eyes out. I cried while saying goodbye to the bf (yep, he still exists). I cried while saying goodbye to my school guardians, my school daughters, my best friends, and people who were generally good to me. 

I will not miss the bullies, the mobs who accuse you of "crimes" without giving you a fair hearing, the head house mistress, and the punishments. As we left the school campus, I looked back at the place I have spent the past 4+ years of my life and I could not believe that I will not be back here again.

Finally, the D-day arrived. We are in the plane, waiting to take off. I am holding back tears. I cannot afford to let anyone see me cry. This is supposed to be a good day. A happy day. We are finally going to all live together and go to a better school and have a better life. But why does it feel like I am leaving a part of me behind. 

In the last week, my three best friends - Mr. Last card, my best girl friend, and our other friend  came to the flat to say goodbye. To say that I was happy to see them is equally an understatement. We were packing up the flat and sending things home to the village. When it was time to say goodbye, I did not want to let go. I am scared. 

I am truly going to miss them all - my life, my friends, and of course, Mr. Last card. I never did give him that kiss. As the plane went down the run way and finally took off, I looked out of the window and said my last goodbye. Goodbye Nigeria - till we meet again!

EPILOGUE

I rolled over and he's staring at me. "What? Why are you staring at me?" I asked him. "Nothing, it's just I can't believe you are my wife," He responds. "My God, you are so freaking beautiful, you know that?" He asks. "I am?" I feigned ignorance. 

He playfully throws a pillow at me; which I artfully dodge. I cannot believe it has been 11 years since I said goodbye to my boarding school. A lot has happened. I went on to finish high school here; studied civil engineering in college and then continued on to law school. 

I am officially a lawyer now- not bad for an uprooted African boarding school babe right? But the most interesting things have been the events of the past recent couple of years.

And Mr. Last card? Well he and I kept in touch throughout the years (through emails, texts, Hi5, Myspace, Facebook, Skype, Google, and then Whatsapp). It was not always easy but we tried. But it was not until I visited him in Paris [after I left, he moved back to South Africa to live with his parents, attended university, and got a job which sent him to France to work] when I took a post-bar exam trip to tour Europe that things actually took off. 

When I returned from my trip, I could not deny the feelings anymore, I was in love with him. Hence, it was a pretty fast yes when a little over a year later he asked me to be his wife [apparently, he had asked my mom back when we were little if he could marry me and she said he could when he grew to be my height. So now that he is the same height as me, he thought it appropriate. Pretty low standard set by my mother there.].

So here we are - married and all. Who would have thought that the boy who I gave my last "success on your exams" card to would turn out to be my husband? Oh and he finally got that Kiss plus more. [The End]

My Mr. Last Card and I: The last day he came to say goodbye vs. Us as grown ups.

- VikariouzlyTME

Learn more »

Image Note: Blogger [in the middle] at Imo State University with cousins

Wow! Senior Secondary (SS)2 student? Me? I could not believe it. It seems like only yesterday I was a Junior Secondary School (JSS)1 student trying to figure out how to survive in this school. Now, I am officially a senior student. The Junior WAEC exams (an exam conducted by the The West African Examinations Council after you have completed junior secondary school, before you can start your senior secondary school) has come and gone. After all the noises made about passing it and all the craziness that went into preparing for it, it is officially done with.

Thinking back to JSS3 before the actual exams. I cannot believe how crazy things had gotten. It seemed all the teachers and students could think about was this exam. At every turn, the teachers wanted you to know that you just had to pass this exam, no two ways about it. As a matter of fact, now that I have taken the exam, while it was sufficiently difficult, I truly believed that the fear of this exam was more from all the big hoopla made about it than the actual exam being difficult. Regardless, it has come and gone now, life continues.

SS1 came and went rather quickly. Prior to that, the big break between the exam and the start of SS1 was a plus. We got months off from school while we awaited the results. I, of course, took maximum advantage of that to go somewhere new. I mean, sure I didn't leave the country (who has that kind of money?), but I had never really visited Owerri before. Sure, we stop by occasionally, but I have never really seen the place properly or gone to the various places. So it was with great enthusiasm that I had accepted to go to Owerri to spend time with my favorite (don't tell my other uncles) uncle. Being there was amazing. He was a student at Imo State University and so were my other cousins. Naturally, I attended classes with them occasionally. Now, that might not be a big deal to some people but to me, a JSS3 student, going to University campus (with all the big boys and girls) seemed like a dream come true. Of course it helped that I'd finally grown into my big head, so now I was quite tall. I looked like I belonged there. Plus, the amount of "toasting" that was occurring from the University guys affirmed this. I truly enjoyed myself there; it's no wonder I lost my skinny looks and became plump. My sisters had teased me about it when I returned.

I had not really thought about this school while I was gone. Between anticipating the examination result and stuffing my face with Mr. Bigg's rice and meat pie and  of course, gala, choco milo and ice cream, I did not have time to think about this school. It also did not help when I discovered a mama-put lady whose food tasted like heaven (well, what I imagined heaven tasted like). It's no wonder I have turned into an orobo. I did get a chance to see Mr. last card. As usual, hanging out with him was great! I was pretty mad when I walked into our living room from the balcony and saw him holding my friend's hand. I mean if looks could kill, that look I gave them would have had them busting into flames and me calling for the neighbors to come put out some fires. Of course, he understood because he quickly withdrew his hand from her when he saw me. I don't know if the jealousy (I assume that's what that was) was from him holding someone else's hand (since he's always holding mine) or from me developing feelings for him. Plus, I cannot believe he tried to kiss me. I was thoroughly in shock. All I could do was put my finger up and say "not now." What did I mean by not now anyways? It's not as if I was planning to have a make out session later. I suppose that was the first response that came into my head. He was a trooper about it since he never brought it up again.

But now I am back in school and all of that is behind me. I won't treat him any differently. Of course, with return to school comes more problems. The head house mistress is back with her problems. Why does that woman have it out for me anyways? I mean it's simple, if I don't want to help you break the school rules, why not find someone who would? I do not want to help you sell food to students. You do not know what allergies people possess. I refuse to be implicated if anyone dies from eating your food. Of course she does not see it that way, and this time around, I am in the vice principal's office for some made up offense again. At this point, it is getting pretty amusing. Moreover, I am sure the vice principal is onto her antics. I mean other than the times she's running in here to report me for one thing or another, I am a model student. No problems, no drama, nothing. I even serve as the water prefect, making sure every one gets their water for bathing and washing their clothes and plates. But hey, if she insists on making a fool of herself, far be it from me to stop her.

Moving on, I have to pay attention to what this man is talking about. Knowing him, this particular lesson will probably appear on the exams. He has this ruthless ability of finding whatever the most difficult topic he taught about was and then making most of his exams about that. So, if I am to pass, I have to focus. Oh great! Some student just entered the classroom to interrupt his lessons. We all know how angry he gets about that. Wait why is he looking at me? Great! the vice principal wants to see me. Why is the vice principal sending for me?  I hope that lady is not up to her crazy again. Alright, time to put on a brave face and go calmly but confidently tell him that I did not do whatever it was she accused me of this time. I pack up my books and bag and follow the student out to go see the vice principal. Hey, wait a minute, that man standing outside the vice principal's office with him looks just like my uncle. It is him! Wait, why is he here? What's going on? Who the heck is that with him? Oh sh*t is that my dad? What the..........? [To be continued]

- VikariouzlyTME

Learn more »

www.huffingtonpost.com

“Try again”, the teacher yells to me. I really need to perfect this jump. Our inter-house sports competition is coming up soon and our house has to win in some of the events. For those of you who do not know, the inter-house sports is an event where all the houses compete in different sports activities in order to win prices. Although if you ask me, it seems a bit unfair here given that all the athletically-abled kids seem to be in red house in this school but nobody asked me so I just shut up and attempt the jump again, this time getting it to the teacher’s satisfaction. I still do not understand why she wants me to be involved anyways, I mean she already has me throwing the javelin and let’s be honest; my hand-eye coordination is nothing to write home about. “Good job, now go wait until I give you further instructions,” she says. I walk away to the side to watch the others practice.

As I stand on the side, my mind begins to wander off. So many things have happened since I started in this school. For example, when we started, we were the only students (the first set, they called us). Now there are two new sets of junior students. I even have my own school daughters (three to be exact). They are all very beautiful. My sister attends this school now and I also have to look out for her. If anything, to keep her from the punishment –hungry seniors. I still do not understand the whole idea of unleashing these unnecessary punishments on the junior students. Between having them sneak back food from the dining area to the dorms undetected because we the seniors are too lazy to take ourselves to the dining (or maybe we are too fly to be seen eating at the dining. I’m not sure which) (by the way, can I just say how commendable the junior students who are able to bring food back are? The dining prefects are no joke), and having them wash the clothes and clean the corners, I think they have enough to keep them occupied. So, in my opinion, dishing out these extra punishments like having them transfer water from one bucket to another using a tea spoon, picking the pin, kneeling with their hands raised above their heads and mouth open, or thoroughly whipping them with a cane of their own choosing are all unnecessary. Not to mention, the teachers already deal those out too (and quite frankly, they seem a bit obsessed with doing so). As a matter of fact, it’s no wonder we are all skinny, with all the yoga moves the teachers have us doing, all in the name of punishment.

Also, I have a boyfriend now. Ha! That sounds funny when I say it out loud to myself. He’s pretty big and is the “IT” guy that all the guys respect and fear so I suppose being his girl kind of has its own perks. But let’s be honest, we do not even do anything other than standing around in the corner to talk. Why is this even considered romantic anyways? Is it due to the fact that the teachers thoroughly forbid the guys from being seen with the girls? Why do they act like the world will end if I stand in front of a guy and talk to him? I mean I know of so many students already sleeping with each other, sneaking out in the middle of the night to spend time together; so why does standing around to talk seem so frowned upon? Anyways, I am pretty good friends with all his friends, even the one I gave the last card to (remember him from this post?). I do like Mr. last Card a lot but not in that romantic feeling way. We seem to get along quite so easily. Our conversations flow properly; and honestly, holding his hand feels great. But we are just friends and I like that.

Speaking of punishments, I still have to finish cutting the stupid field of grass I was assigned to cut. I mean cutting a whole field with a machete is a bit too much, isn't it? Especially when I did not commit the offense I was accused of. But when it is mob versus you, you kind of lose out. When that lying ,what’s her name, claimed she saw me in the dining area with Mr. Boyfriend engaging in some frowned upon activity and everyone believed I was guilty, including the head house mistress (who by the way, I believe is still out to get me because I refused to help her sell okpa in the dorms to other students. But hey rules are rules; do not sell food to students.). Of course, I was at debate practice with the other members of the debate team during the time of the said activity but since the house headmistress is not giving me the opportunity to speak up and defend myself, I guess that fact plays no role here. Wait a minute, if indeed this girl saw Mr. Boyfriend with some girl engaging in some activities (which she probably did, she’s very adamant about this) and she assumed it was me because they all know me as his girl (but I was not there); then that big head is cheating on me! I’m going to have a talk with him about this later! Anyways, I was given the ever-so-wonderful punishment of cutting the grass. Since a couple of my friends know I was not involved, they have volunteered to help me cut it. I need to get that done before the head house mistress comes back to inspect.

Soon, we will be going home for the break. I cannot wait. I get to see my mom. Even though I saw her during the last visiting day and she brought me those large cans of Peak milk and Nestle Milo, the boxes of Cabin biscuit, the flasks containing jollof rice, a carton of the St. Louis cube sugar, and other things which I truly appreciate, I miss her a lot. I also miss my sisters and my brother and cannot wait to see them. Plus, since Mr. Last Card comes over a lot to hang out during the holidays, we can hang and talk more. I cannot wait. In the meantime, it’s my turn to jump again so let me go get this done with . . . . [To be continued].

*- VikariouzlyTME

Learn more »

I count the cards over again to make sure they are complete. I count on my fingers how many people I am giving each one to. I must finish writing my messages on them before it is too late. I begin writing. "Dear x, just a little card to wish you success on your exams. May the Lord guide you through it all and may you come out in flying colors".

Okay 1 of 10 done. I continue the same, with different but somewhat similar messages on each card. Oh wow! I only have 9 people I want to give the cards to. This leaves me with one extra card. I have to give it to someone. I can’t just have an empty card sitting here. Hmm, who should I give this to? I begin to count the people I am close with in my card. As I count through them, I realize, each one already has an assigned card.

The bell rings. I quickly hide them under my pillow. I have to run down to the dining hall for breakfast or else I will be late to school. Having attended this particular boarding school for a little while now, I know that being late was truly frowned upon.

A bit of a background for you. Hi, I’m about 11 years of age. I am pretty tall for my age. I am also very lanky. Seriously, you would truly want to feed me if you saw me. I have curly brown hair and big brown eyes. They are quite big and happen to be one of the first things people notice about me.

I love to dance and laugh. I am terrible at athletic things, although I have to be involved in the school’s physical education activities. I am pretty fast when I run, but I get sick when I do run. My chest hurts badly, I cough a lot and my head hurts as well. So as a result, I try not to run a lot. Even though I started late at the school because I was very sick when everybody else started.

I have made a lot of friends and I love my friends. When we are not in classes or doing some school-related activities, we are telling stories, laughing about the silly boys [even though some of them are our friends], eating some of our provisions [snacks that our parents packed for us as supplement to the school meals], or doing our hairs.

We all attend the same school but we are not in the same house [a term used to describe our dormitories]. I am in blue house, so I have to wear blue colored clothes. Although our main school uniforms are maroon red and white. Some of my friends are in the same house with me.

One of my best friends is in red house, so she has to wear red (secret: I borrow her clothes sometimes and pretend like I am in red house). I have some friends and people I am okay with in green and yellow houses as well. Besides dancing, I am also in the drama team because I am very good at acting. I am also in the debate team because I am good at that as well. I like mathematics and chemistry but I hate music class because I suck at playing the flute [which we have to learn to pass]. So that is a little bit of information about me.

Continuing on, I run off to breakfast. After that, it is time for assembly.  Then time for classes. Then lunch time. After lunch, it is time for afternoon naps. Back to classes again. Time for dinner. Time for classes yet again, for evening reading. We get home at night. We have little time to talk and laugh before it is lights off. Our lives are pretty much regulated in that strict schedule type of way. But it is okay because that’s the only way I know to do things.

I am back on my bed now and I am thinking of whom to give that last card to. I have to give them out tomorrow because exams start very soon. Suddenly, I realize who I should give it to. Yes, it makes sense. I quickly write up the message in the card, put it in the envelope. Put all of them in my bag for handing out tomorrow. I leave my bed and find my friend to talk.

Tomorrow is finally here. I have given out the cards to the girls that I wanted to give them to. It’s time to give the boys their own cards. I go down to the dining area and ask someone to call the boys for me. When they come, I give them their cards too. Except I have not given the last one to the person I wanted to give it to because I can’t find him.

Then I hear his voice, I turn around, I smile. He walks closer. When he got close enough, I smiled again. I gave him the card, smiled at him and said, “Success on your exams.” Then I run off to go join my girlfriends. As I am leaving, I turn around, I see him looking at the card, he smiles as he reads it, then he looks up at me and smiles….. [To be continued]

- VikariouzlyTME

Learn more »