CHAPTER TEN; FIRST TERM EXAMINATION
I didn't give a thought to what my parents told me at all. I just moved on and continued in the battle of the fittest here in Osa community School .
As Chibuikem said, Mr. Shadrach came and as usual ,he asked for our notes and when he saw those that were not complete, he flogged the living hell out of their owners.
He smiled when he saw my notes because it was up to date. he gave my note back to me and walked away. I felt happy and sad at the same time , the latter for the students that were flogged and the former,for my up- to-date note.
The weeks went by and the months too. I missed my first test because I resumed late but I had the chance to correct that by taking my second test which was strangely the checking of notes,the teacher checks your note and if it is complete,he just marks the last part of it and writes 15/20 marks on his register depending on his mood , I guess.
One friday morning on the assembly ground,Mrs. Ibitoroko announced that we would be taking our first term examination in two weeks time and that the time table would be released soon. I was so nervous that I had to go to the senior section to ask Chibuikem if the Examination was hard and his response was" no not at all, don't even bother reading because those questions are cheaper than your common entrance examination questions." I didn't believe him but I didn't express my unbelief, I just kept it to myself . As Mrs.Ibitoroko said during the morning assembly, a girl walked into our class room with a rough piece of paper in her right hand, and asked the class captain for marker to write on the board and when she got it she started writing the time table on the board from the rough piece of paper she was holding. I was shocked , In my primary School, the timetables were typed and printed before being distributed to the pupils. 'wow! Like who copies their time table from the board?' I wondered in amazement as I wrote it down in my jotter.
" Finally it's today", I said out loud as I walked into the School compound. Today is Monday , the day that our first term examination would begin. I am so, anxious right now that my heart is beating so fast that it feels like it's in my stomach.
I opened my jotter again for the third time since morning and sighed when I saw English language beside Monday. I closed my jotter and kept it back in my pocket,it was a small jotter so it fitted perfectly. I didn't take my School bag along with me today because I was warned the previous day that I shouldn't.
I got to my class room and admired tye clean floor that I swept last Friday. I have now adjusted to sweeping my class room every Friday.
After the morning assembly, something really strange happened a very tall , thin and dark skinned teacher walked into our class room and introduced himself as our class teacher, we all gasped and wondered in disbelief, so we had a class teacher after all this while? What?? I thought to myself.
" My name is Mr. Mohammed and I am your class teacher, I haven't been coming since because your class is too uncomfortable and over populated for me ." He said callously. We all shouted in pity and disbelief "ahhh!"
He beckoned in us to keep quiet and afterwards asked that we all stand on our feet. When we did this he said " so , I need you all to co-operate with me , please I have not marked the attendance since the beginning of this term because of some unknown reasons, so I won't stress myself, I would call you guys according to your numbers please if you don't know your number let me know." There was something strange about him, he was too calm to be a public school teacher.
He started calling the numbers and as the students answered , they sat down. My number is 69. When he called my number, I answered and sat down. The last number he called was 202. I was amazed because I wondered how a class for 30 students could hold 202 students, that's almost times ten. When Mr. Mohammed left the classroom, I overheard a girl that sat in front when he was in the class room telling Cynthia and Lisa that she saw him marking present and absent disorderly for every body, that simply means that if your weren't absent from school at all, it showed in the register that you were an and this information really broke my heart. It made me feel useless and worthless, they tagged us as 'community children ' every where we went and if we try to hide it ,for us girls, our low cut did the talking.
He came back later with a pile of papers and some higher education note books that we were asked to bring a couple of weeks ago . He's asked those that were with their School bags to put it outside the class room and not bring it to School tomorrow, Muini was one of them. He then asked us to sit right and put our heads on the table afterwards,he gave a long speech on 'examination Malpractice' . It was when he a
Started distributing the papers with the help of the Class captain and some 'over-sabi( over do) students who always seek attention that I realised that my jotter was still in my pocket. I covered my mouth with my two hands to stop myself from screaming my lungs out for fear of being caught with a jotter. My heart started pounding really hard, I felt my breathing hitch, my head was spinning around the class room when a harsh female voice startled me. " Are you mad? What's wrong with you,why are you not taking the paper from my hands?" I looked up to see my mean class captain staring down at me from my desk. She threw the paper at me rudely and moved to the next desk, by This time the students at the back were already glaring and shouting at me. (Well, incase you don't know who a class captain is. A class captain is a class monitor or a class prefect, a student who is in charge of class activities.
I was too scared , and too guilty to look at the question paper in front of me so , I quickly flipped it to the back and breathed heavily, I thought of turning myself in but I changed my mind when I saw Mr.Mohammed take the cane from his tiny arm pit and flog the strength out of a small boy sitting in front with a piece of paper in his hands , he sent him out of the class immediately. Me, putting two and two together, concluded that if a student that was caught with a piece of paper could be treated like this, how much more me who had a small jotter half filled with knowledge and School work. "Haew! ( Oh! no!) I'm in trouble" I muttered under my breathe to my self. An idea came to me immediately. I could just throw the jotter out of the window without any body seeing me. I wanted to ,but I couldn't because Cynthia was there, looking earnestly with her tiny mouth as sharp as a two edged sword. If she sees me , I would be as good as dead.
I quickly took the jotter from my pocket, bent backwards like I wanted to stretch and when my hands touched the window frame behind me, I dropped the hotter quickly and forgot about it. I heaved a sigh of relief because I knew that the boy behind me wouldn't tell because he isn't Cynthia.
I could now flip my question paper to the front because I have been sanctified now. I felt so free and pure now. I was stunned when I saw the questions in the it . " What! Words and opposite, singular and plural !" I exclaimed quietly in disbelief. The theory almost popped my eye balls out of their sockets" write a composition about your self." I started regretting why I stayed up late to read last night and even did the same this morning. My regret turned to confusion when I saw that the answer sheet was a sheet of the higher education book that we summited. I was wondering what to do when the class teacher said" so, now,listen to the instructions, rule your margin then write your name, class, subject and date on the paper. When you are done with this, quickly number your lines according to the number of the questions in the object, like now,this is actually thirty questions, so, let it be from Number one to thirty." I did this quickly and joyfully with my palms sweating, It was so sweaty that the own was slipping out of my grip repeatedly. " If you are done with this let me see your hands." He asked . I was among the few whose hands were raised and he asked us to start after checking the script of those sitting in front.
The moment,I started, I remembered that I didn't pray, so , I stopped where I was, and prayed a very short and simple prayer and continued my work. It was so simple and sweet that I felt like I was playing a game. I finished the Objective part and went straight to the theory. I looked around and noticed that most of the students were cracking their brains and scratching theirs heads. I wondered why they did this. Cynthia who wasn't hasn't spoken to me for days turned around and smiled at me saying " remember when, we used to with compositions about ourselves in primary two? honestly it feels like I'm in primary school again." I smiled back at her awkwardly and replied ' that's true, I remember,I feel the same way too." I finished quickly and was just about to summit and leave the class room when I felt a strong grip on my wrist, forcing me to sit back in my chair, it was Muini.
" What is it? Why are you holding me?" I whispered to her in surprise. She looked at me pitifully and said" please I need your help for o my one thing."
"Yes,what is it?" I asked while looking up and down at her. Her response shocked me to the core, it felt like an atomic bomb had been realised in my chest "what?!" I whispered back at her in disbelief when she asked me to read for her that she couldn't read. No wonder she hasn't done anything,no wonder she writes really slow in class because instead of copying sentence by sentence she copies letter by letter. I felt so much pity for her , my curiosity took a hold of me and I asked " why don't you know how to read?" Her answer was" THEY DIDN'T TEACH ME" those words came out of her so heavily that I could feel the weight in her soul just from listening to her. I didn't ask what primary School she went to because I already knew the answer, she went to the primary school section of Osa community school. I felt so sorry for her because she has to cut her hair for twelve years or even more depending on whether it not she repeats a class. She hasn't kept her hair since she was born and what does she get? a wobbly Nursery and primary School education Oh! God ! Why?!
I quickly stopped my questions and decided to help her when I heard Mr.Mohammed announce that it was thirty minutes left to summit their work. I read all the object questions for her, I didn't tell her all the answers, I assisted her with some. When we got to the theory part, I almost gave up, I mean ,how could someone who doesn't know how to read, write a composition. I told her to make it short, she didn't even know what a composition is. I explained all these to her , I was feeling like a teacher at this moment. When she was done, I told her that I was going to teach her how to read if she would follow me to the library.
After submitting my answer script, I sat down and pondered on today's event from when I walked into the school gate to when I assisted Muini with her examination. And indeed as my mother would always say to I and my siblings when she is lamenting about her last life in the village," thank God
For your life!" I said those words with my hands lifted up in joy towards God. I am so grateful that I can read otherwise, I would have been living in total darkness.
The rest of the week was filled with easier examinations, especially the mathematics which was very striking.
We took our last paper today Friday and it was really easy. I went to the library in hen I was done. I felt so tired because I was helping Muini as usual and the strange thing is she always gives her answers to the guys at the back especially her Brother because they are in the same boat. We were asked to come to School next week, w en thought we were done with our examinations. My small childish mind assumed that we wouldn't be having rehearsals for the Christmas Carol through out next week. I was absolutely wrong.