Awkward Silence

Mr Otimkpu's arrival in class was always marked by awkward silence, not sure on whether to greet, or not to greet, to smile, or not to smile. And amongst us all, it was most awkward for me. He had a thing when he’d come into class, and after spending several minutes nagging, would look me in the eye, for several seconds, then make some derogatory statement about me. He hated me, and it wasn’t hidden. Something about him losing the Cathechistal seat to my father whom he deemed unworthy. He couldn’t hit my father with a stick, that would be a smear to his so called pristine reputation, but he could hit me, could scold me, could give unwarranted punishments, and could defend every action of his. If my father was holier than thou, then, Otimkpu was a special breed. Because, as terrible as nnanyi was, if he were in Otimkpu’s position, he’d never pour his anger out on an innocent, he’d go straight for his enemy. Watching him move his mouth, and slap his cane against the table, occasionally writing something on the board, I blanked out. I hated his voice, I disliked his face, and his existence irked me. So, I ignored, expecting some punishment eventually.