CHRIST SCHOOL AT 80: AULD LANG SYNE (II) (Exordium: I must admit that I was delighted to read some of the comments that graced my first volume of this piece. Truth be told, when I was signing off in the prequel, I just wrote ‘to be continued’ so as to bail out since there was just too much to write about Christ School and yet did not want to ramble on ceaselessly. Plus I did not know how my readers would find my nostalgia: obtrusive or refreshing. Your comments, and especially the calls of commendations, have put paid to my ambivalence. ) “O-o-o-o-h-h-e-e-e-y-y-y-y-y!, that-- boy!!, come- -here!!!’’. That roar, in the most guttural bass I ever heard, was unmistakable of Mr Ajisafe Akerele, (un)popularly known as Orogbangba (‘Oros’ for short), our indefatigable Vice Principal. Standing at 6’5’’ with a mass of over 100Kg with a very broad frame, Oros could well pass for a giant from a JSS1 student perspective. As if the height alone wasn’t intimidating enough, the voice that was raucous like thunder was the clincher that would make you wish the land should split for a way of escape. Whereas we feared Oga, we dreaded Oros. (For one thing, when Oros visits your class, he leaves tears and wails behind). There was a caveat anyway: if you are an obedient and quiet student, then you don’t need to dread/fear/run away from Oros. Just make sure he didn’t find you in a class that was rambunctious with lot of noises. If he did, then it didn’t matter whether you were quiet or even sleeping when he came in, your buttocks would be too tender to sit upon by the time he left. I was a sharp guy right from my JSS1: Oros beat the whole class and I evaded the beating. I feigned agony just as others were wailing but I was really laughing inside. There was a popular song for Oros, sung exclusively by the initiated (read rebels) to warn off their confreres: ‘Orogbangba lo n bo yen, E ma sa wo gbo, To ba ba e ni beyen, Egba mefa ni , Leyin na, suspension ni’ (loosely translated: Here comes Orogbangba, should he meet you there then you will bear six lashes of cain, after that you will go on suspension). Though not new to the morning devotion thing as I used to follow my father to morning Mass, the Chapel morning devotion will always be part of me. From the march past from assembly ground to the filing inside of the chapel, everything was so orderly. Everybody knew his level, and angle. (Woe betide a junior that sat, either by omission or commission, in the angle meant for his seniors. In fact that was the surest inducement for hot slaps early in the morning). The songs and the hymns have always been part of me and will remain forever so. The sermons were often thought provoking but had the tendency to veer into homilies. Whether they had immediate effect on us as students was debatable because no sooner had we left the chapel than we reverted to our troublesome and prankish way of life. But it is indubitable that the experience of the chapel morning devotion leaves a permanent imprint on our lives. For one, we all know that our existence consist in God’s favor ins and outs. Also we know for sure it is not by might nor by power but by the spirit of God. Some hymns I learnt from the chapel morning devotion are my companions and they lift my spirit especially when I find myself in the occasional doldrums of life. Songs like; ‘Nearer my God to Thee, God Whose Name is Love, Christ is Our Corner Stone, God Dismiss Us With Thy Blessing, All Things Bright and Beautiful, To God Be The Glory, When We Walk With The Lord’ etc. are simply inspirational. Give me any of them anytime any day and you just make my day. For some reasons, some teachers were more comfortable in leading the morning devotion than others. Naturally, students gravitated towards the willing teachers and generally enjoyed their sessions. Chief Bayode, Mrs Fawehinmi and a few others fell into this category. The fluidity of their expressions, sonorous diction and infallible articulation always made them the students’ choice. Other teachers were not all that bad and we generally took the choice of whoever led the devotion for granted until one morning when Oros took the podium. Honestly, Oros was ill-suited for the task at hand. Normally the preserves of Oros consisted of arresting the latecomers, apportioning punishment to the errant students and generally being the nemesis of the delinquents. He was proficient in these and many would-be rebels had to shelve the idea because of the fear of Oros. Oros was never complete without holding a cane in his right hand. So it was so hilarious when we saw Oros holding a Bible and a Chapel Hymn Book and making the procession to the podium. Whoever designed the robe did not take tall men into consideration; the robe hardly reached the knee of Oros and this accentuated the incongruousness. And everybody laughed. Even Oros himself was not left out in the laughter. It was a much wanted comic relief. Threaten us as much as you could, you would never make students of my era spill the beans on their partner(s)-in-crime. Even when you saw the two of them committing the crime but you were not able to apprehend them that instant or one of them was able to escape, the unfortunate one would never rat on the escapee. He would tell you ‘I don’t know him sir’. You could spill fire and brimstone our guy would never change his statement from ‘I don’t know him sir’. He would prefer suffering alone the punishment meant for two culprits to betraying his friend(s). Even if it was a group thing, say you suspected a member of the class committed an offence, so long you could not identify the culprit, there would be no need to think you could coerce the whole class to hand him over because it would not work. It was the law of omerta that we prided ourselves in not breaking, not for the fear of retaliation but for esprit de corps. Naughtiness and boys can never be separated. I remember how we use to dis our seniors and teachers. Ask the whole class a question, the response you would get, in an undertone, was ‘Kanssss’. Kansss was a puckish way of saying ‘council’, meaning that you should go and seek the answer to your question in the local council. Simply put, don’t ask us (stupid?) questions. The SS2 students of a particular year took this to the height when on a Friday afternoon during a highly charged session Oga asked a question of them and there was this quiet but audible ‘Kansssss’. The principal was so furious and demanded to know who uttered that. Of course, it must have been a ghost who did because nobody owned up. Worse still nobody was near enough to hear it from his neighbors and that was a chapel that was always jam-packed with about twelve students sitting on a bench. Oga ordered all SS2 students to be delayed and punished, deserts that were more acceptable to the students than exposing one of their own. Such was the spirit of solidarity. We found it easier to indulge our vices more than one virtues. And to make it sound less offensive, we coined our own euphemism for them. ‘Para’ was one of the most popular and most versatile; it could mean to steal, to implore for a portion (usually food). To ‘para’ (read pilfer) another student’s pen was almost becoming a norm. It carried no penalty so long the offender told you he just ‘para’ it. ‘Seke’ was another way of describing a coward. Maybe after our friend has taken up the gauntlet, he later developed a tail and backed out, we would say ‘O ti seke’ (Honestly, I did this a lot, na only mouth I get, I no too sabi fight). ‘Giraffe’ was another popular euphemism for the furtive look into other students’ scripts during exam. We had a large volume for such code words I must admit I have forgotten many. (Abeg, guys help me jog my memory). To Be Continued. P.S: For the avoidance of doubt, I do not intend to paint anybody black. Read the piece vis-à-vis my standpoints; I was a toughie. Not particularly proud of that, but that was a fact. Thanks.
Posted on: Wed, 07 Aug 2013 16:01:44 +0000
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