Kilanko

in #fiction6 years ago

It was almost 2.00pm and I could not wait for the closing bell to go off, I really wasn't paying attention anymore as my whole being wanted out. Whatever the teacher was saying did not appeal to me, I kept wondering what on Earth will make them fix Mathematics at that time of the day. As far as I was concerned learning should stop at noon as the hot African sun is unbearable in the tropics. Sometimes the temperature reaches the extreme to the extent I would be close to ripping my uniform off and run down to the nearby stream for succour.

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I must admit the 'Maths teacher' knows her onions, she takes her time to explain the dreaded subject to us. She is tall with strong sturdy bones, I wouldn't call her pretty but she has good gait and certainly carries herself with pride. It was the beginning of a new term and I would hope Mrs Ossai would meet the form master to shift this double period to somewhere in the morning. My attention shift to cars arriving in the school premises in preparation for the closing hours, now the interest in whatever was being taught in the classroom is all but gone.

Ring the damn bell! I muttered to myself.
The next few minutes would stretch on for eternity, at long last the ring bearer did his job with aplomb, he does this with so much vigour as if he knows the lives of multitudes of NFA depend on it. Normally the NFA means the Nigerian football association in the past but in this context is 'No future ambition' which is for the 'unserious' students who usually seats at the back of the class. These were the big boys and girls in high school, the perpetual rule breakers who have made the new vice principal their number one enemy.

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The NFA is headed by Usman, an exchange student from the northern part of the country, he is of average height, muscular and has different scars on his body. He stares at his scars from time to time as if each scar tells his own tale, word on the street says Usman's skin cannot be penetrated by iron or any metal. This makes me wonder how he got the scars all over his body, probably he got them to test the efficacy of the transcedental powers in his poccession or the scars made him sought after the marabout who gave him the power.

I peered at Usman from the corner of my eyes with disdain, he must have felt a thousand eyes staring at him as he looked in my direction, an ugly grin spread over his face as if saying I am invincible. I managed to smile back with only one thought in me, you might be immuned to metals but certainly not to stones or boulders.

To be continued.....

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