Chapter 2: CHAPTER 1
I sat alone at the corner of the classroom with my book infront of me. It was currently 9:30p.m and according our boarding timetable, it was time for evening prep. Although my book was infront of me, I wasn't actually focused on it. I was more interested in the heated conversation my classmates were having about the current situation in our country, the END SARS protest of the youths. Today was going to make it the fifteenth day of the protest. It was initially peaceful, during the first week, all the youths did was to walk around with placards, some sang the National Anthem while some just sat on the roads. They were all tired of being harassed by the newly introduced department of the Police Force, SARS, which meant "Special Anti-Robbery Squad". All these during the first week.
It all took a new turn by the second week. The SARS group was finally down but the protest was still on, this time for an end to bad governance. The good thing about it was that it was still peaceful but then some hoodlums began to do the opposite. Police Stations were burnt down, prisoners were released and at that point, you could have been side by side with a dangerous prisoner but you wouldn't have known. The country was no longer safe. Soon, a curfew which was initially supposed to last for 24hours, was announced. The markets were busy for the whole day up until 4:00p.m. People had to stock their kitchens, market women had to sell up to make enough money so they could fill their houses too. Not only was the curfew to start by 4:00p.m, the military was going to carryout an operation they called "The Crocodile Smile". People suspected for peace disruption were to be killed and that led to the death and injuries of many who were protesting at the Lekki Toll Gate.
The country was on fire, the cries of men women and children were heard as they were being slaughtered from house to house. You dared not mention your occupation outside if you were a police. In fact, it was safer to burn up your uniforms before they broke into your homes and saw it. The nation's peace had gone to sleep, fear had taken over and it was during this period that we were in school. Our parents felt we were safer in school moreover there was no way they could have come to pick us. All the roads were blocked.
" It is well with our country." my cousin, Adediwura Ifeoluwa Anne said at the end of their long discussion. " We are children and can't do anything. Even if we could do anything, we are stuck in here."
The bell rang for the end of our Prep. We stood up, said our night prayer before heading for our hostels. Ife and I walked side by side to our hostel. Our hostel was a tall, two storey building with three rooms on each floor along side 10 toilets and one big bathroom. Each room could accommodate at least twenty-five students.
" Have you called your mother?" I asked her.
" Chidinma, is there time in this school? From class to dinning hall, dinning hall to hostel, hostel back to class."
" When last did you talk to her?"
" About a week ago." Ife sighed. " I just pray that they are safe."
We stopped at Ife's room since it was on the Ground Floor. It was at the first room in the hostel while mine was on the middle floor. I didn't want to stress her so I had to stop at her room.
" I'm calling my mother this night, before I go to bed." I told her.
" No problem. 'Omo mummy'. My regards to her."
"Goodnight."
" Goodnight."
I made my way to my house mistress's room and begged her to let me call my mother. Since she was nice and understood the fear of students concerning their parents, she let me call. On the third ring, my mother picked.
" Hello mummy."
" Chi Chi, 'Nwamu, Kedu' ?"
( My baby, how are you?)
My mother was a thick Igbo woman. She rarely spoke English to us at home. She always made mention of how all her children must be able to speak and understand their mother tongue.
" Mummy I'm fine. How are you too?"
" I'm fine oooo. " She said. I could only imagine the smile on her face as she replied my question. She would always brag to her friends that of all her children, I was the most caring and so I was the only child of her's she called 'Nwamu', meaning "my baby". She always said even her 'Ada' (first daughter), who just recently got married, didn't care like I did. I never let her do anything when I was around. You can not have a grown female child and still do household chores, not in the country I am from. Laziness was distant from the female children of my land and so my mother grew in size each time I came home and all her friends praised her for having such a hard working daughter. It is indeed a thing of pride till date.
" I hope you are safe?" I asked her.
" Yes I am. What about you?"
" I am also fine. Please take care of yourself."
" Yes my madame." she teased. " You too take care and incase anything happens, remember that you are a strong child and I'll be on my way immediately."
" Yes ma. I have to go now"
" Your father and brothers send their regards."
" My regards to them too. I love you mummy."
" I love you too 'Nwamu'. " (my baby).
I cut the call, returned the phone to my house mistress and left her room to my room. The voice of girls talking, gossiping, laughing, even singing could be heard the moment the door was opened. I loved my school for one thing, the relationship between the students. The African culture is usually a friendly one and so we brought it into the school. Some girls even called themselves " sisters from different mothers". I changed from my knee-length pink House wear into my black night gown. Taking the brown wrapper my mother had given me, I tied it round my waist, making each side overlap the other before tucking the end into the waist side.
" Chidinma, how is Musa?" one of the girls named Dami teased me. Musa was the class captain of my class and my best friend too. He was a tall, dark boy with the most curls a boy could have on his hair. That was probably because he was Fulani. All my friends thought we were more than friends, a couple to be exact, but Musa didn't care. He believed that when they were done, they would keep quiet.
" Musa is fine ooo. How is Ubong?" Now it was balanced! Dami had a special liking for Ubong but was too shy to approach him.
" Stop ooo" Dami warned.
" Don't start what you can't finish."
" So somebody can not play with you again."
" Me too, I was only playing."
The other girls around who were listening to our conversation, laughed at what I said. Dami hissed and turned to play with her other friends. I knew we were going to settle tomorrow so I wasn't bothered. I began to arrange my things for school the next day. 10:30p.m was lights out in our hostel, the time when everyone had no choice but to go to bed. That time had finally come and girls began to turn off their room lights.
" Good night everybody." Our house mistress shouted. " See you tomorrow."
'See you tomorrow.' One statement that I would never forget. That was what we all had in mind, until the story took a new turn.
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Thank you so much for reading up to this point. What do you think is going to happen? I'll keep updating as frequently as possible. Please don't forget to vote and share my story to all your friends. Watch out for Chapter 2.
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