Part One: The Rude Welcome
I remember
with vengeance and acrimony the days that I was first taken to a high school.
These indeed were the days I thought were going to be the start of a sanguine
and buoyant life but ended up to be the start of misery and distress as I
struggled through what life is.
Indeed the
most painful part of life I endured was in High School and a repeat of such a
situation may only make me feel like parting ways with life. At least I am sure
now that that will never happen and as a matter of fact the future is
optimistic and full of exhilaration and ecstasy.
But without
the struggles and endeavor of going through such a life we would never have
been brave and courageous enough to counter such atrocities that befell us. As
a matter of fact the people who know real joy are the ones who put every effort
to see to it that they achieve the fruits and not let the duress consume their
deflated spirit.
This reminds
me of the short season I had as a form one in one of the country’s most
reputable secondary school. Most students go to school to pursue education and
not what I really went through when in High School. Was this an institution
meant to punish us after passing with flying colours in Primary School?
That is the
umbrage am still feeling which I think many share if not majority. How comes
such impunity is allowed to mushroom objectively in this age and eon when most
societies are moving from the barbaric ways and are modernizing to fit into the
system? What do you say of a prefect barely a year old than you taking a rod to
spank you for very minor offences.
The
perpetuation of this injustices starts from above where the authority is trying
to enable you fit in only to realize that they are not molding you to be better
but worse. In fact most students detest and resent such insolence mainly
witnessed in boys’ schools. But the avenue that can be used to prevent such
brazenness is unsympathetic and vindictive to the extent that they support the
oppressor instead of the oppressed.
Nostalgic
memories is what I am forced to endure to recall the dreaded prefects meeting
which was mostly done at night. In the meeting they would be charged as the Spanish
charge their bulls before releasing them for a fight. This meeting was done
discreetly with the prefects being called to attend them in the course of the
night preps (evening study time).
Such was the
time that all the form ones would be in great trepidation and anxiety of what
was to befall them. Some never went to bed on that day while others would be
roaming around the institution so as not to face the wrath of the angry
prefects. But the majority had to face the music which entailed square beating.
The prefects
prior to their weekly encounter with the hapless form ones were taken through a
session whereby they would be give healthy milked tea and a whole loaf so that
they would effectively perform their intended duties with passion and fervor.
The execution part of the legal and adept duty was what made them a terror
squad.
The
worst moment for the weekly dosages was when a hostel prefect had failed in
monthly assessment tests and was also thinking of what would happen in the case
he failed national examination. Any down trodden mono (a form one) would
confess that they had the roughest time at such occasions.
