*** The Story That Has Never Been Told! *** Episode 52 ;) The weekend was all about preparations for the incoming examination which was scheduled to takeoff the next week. As is custom with Nigerian students, some prepared by ‘jacking’ as much as they could, a few by revision, and many took to improvisations (aka expo, reminder, bullet or ‘ngbo kirikiri’) . Out of all in the last group of people as mentioned above, one character really caught my attention. His name is Uba. In all my years of seeing people and expos I have never seen anyone who is as effective as this guy. He can reduce a 500 page textbook into a 3” by 3” piece of paper using the most micro font of human graphology (ok, a little exaggeration there). He had started living with Iyke a few weeks ago when I travelled to see my dad. I later learnt he is Iyke’s cousin and also in same department with me but a class ahead (Joe’s classmate). Uba would dedicate over 8 hours out of 24 into this ungodly preparation. We would all joke and laugh whenever we saw him in action. I guess his philosophy clings on ”the end always justifies the means”. . By this time, Uche and I had already turned prayer warriors; bulldozing and destroying every spirit of failure in whichever form they would manifest. We would wake up very early in the morning, sing praises and worship to God, then take a little snack (biscuit or left-over food) which will help our mortal body in the spiritual war ahead, before we finally enter the battlefield proper. I had always led the prayer points and each time I did the prayers never lasted more than thirty minutes. I like moderately simplified prayers where you only have to pray against forces specifically working against you or your family in relation to the level of my faith but Uche later turned the prayers into something else. He would not only war against the little minions of academic failure or family setback, he would proceed to drag their village gods into the matter. Sometimes, he would go international in his prayers; binding and casting the Indian demons, Ethiopian spirits, Babylonian witches, Oceanic kingdoms and others that probably don’t know if he is existing. This new prayer pattern stemmed from the problem he was facing at that time. He and a few other students were having problems with their admission verification process and so it explained his forced repentance and intercontinental spiritual warfare. . ”Guy, which kain prayer be dat one na? Why you go dey fight demons wey dey on their own na?” I had asked him on monday morning after I had had enough of his new style of prayer. ”Guy, you no go understand. These people don suffer me. I don taya to wait for my verification to come out,” he replied still boiling from the heated prayer he just had. ”How dat take concern Indian demons and oceanic kingdoms na?” I inquired further still not cleared on why he should drag demons that were here from time immemorial into his prayers. ”Nwanne, the kingdom of God suffereth violence and only the violent ones taketh it by force,” he answered while quoting King James Bible terms. ”Even at that ma guy. E no mean say you go begin call all Nigerian juju na. Let me tell you, there are prayer principles. There are laws governing the spiritual realm wey you never sabi. Leave those demons for pope and bishop dem to fight. Hmmm, I don tell you finish before they visit you one day. Besides, make I tell you, na ojoro repentance you dey form so. No be true repentance at all. Dem no dey worship God because you dey expect am to do something for you. Relax, your verification go come out as long as you no forge your WAEC sha,” I poured out before I walked out to go draw water from the well. . My mum called me later in the morning to wish me good luck on my exams. Uche and I left for school around 10:30am since our paper was scheduled for 12pm. We met most of our class members already in school before us. It was all pleasantries and ‘how far with preparation’ talks. The academic terrorist were still busy terrorising with their continuous ‘jacking’ even whilst in class. Not too long Zubi bounced in, grinning like a donkey, with some of our guys. ”Guy, how far na? I hope say you don full this your big head with book because na me and you go siddon today,” he said to me while touching my big head (yea, the head is dâmn big). ”common gerrout! Na me send you come ESUT? The time wey I dey fill my JAMB I know say I go meet person like you?” I retorted jokingly. Just that time Kennedy (aka ‘kenny u’ or nwa aba) swaggered in while murmuring incoherent words which only him can understand and then everyone laughed. Everyone busied himself or herself until 12pm when the invigilator walked in with the exam scripts and answer sheets. ”Hey, everyone should sit down now or I’ll walk you out,” he thundered from in front of the class. ”Who be dis one na wey dey form strictness for boys na?” I whispered to Zubi. ”Na faculty exam coordinator be dat o. Guy we better compose. I hear say dem dey fear the man for this school,” Zubi replied in a controlled voice. The exam started normally with nobody ever imagining the events that would later unfold. The exam was strictly invigilated by the faculty exam officer. We all composed ourselves since nobody would wish to be used as a scape goat. Once caught there was no need setting up a panel since it’s the almighty exam officer that is involved. The culprit’s case is as good as closed. I was busy sweating it out with the questions when I felt a sharp pinch at my back. ”Hmmm, it must be a mistake,” I had concluded and so continued writing. Not long, I felt another pinch but this time it was more painful than the first. I cautiously turned back to see pretty lady smiling at me. She was among the troop up students that had a carry-over in the course who had come to rewrite it. I made a facial expression that conveyed ‘yes, any problem?’ and I believed she understood me perfectly because she replied almost immediately with ‘please, help me anyhow’ in a whisper tone. I had decided not to involve myself in any implicating act the moment I got to know our invigilator was the dreaded faculty exam officer but looking at this pretty lady who I identified to be in her finals and who needed to pass this course if she must graduate I felt an oceans of pity for her. . ”You have to be fast o,” were the words I told her before I adjusted myself in such a way that she could have a manageable view of my script. It was as if there was a competition for the fastest copier as her hand raced effortlessly. All she needed at that point was a powerful vision so she could download enough. ”We can maximize the potentials of a sense organ when we decrease or shutdown the function of the rest” . ”Hey you there, stand up!” the voice of our invigilator trumpeted. We all turned to his direction. Everyone asking ”me?” just like the disciples of Jesus Christ did when he broke the news that one of them would betray Him. ”You know yourself. Yes you!” the man replied while pointing straight at me. My heart jumped at the ugly development. ”Is this how I’m going to face panel? Chei, woman don finally land me for trouble,” I cried within. The invigilator walked up to me, searched the pages of my script, looked under the desk and sit but found nothing. ”Young man, search yourself now. Your pockets!” he commanded. I was already on my last pocket before the last sentence came out. I brought out nothing incriminating except my phone which I had switched off before the exam, a few squeezed naira notes and my handkerchief. He exhaled deeply in disappointment as he left me to continue with my work. ”Thank you God for another lifeline,” I prayed as I took my sit. . Everyone wrote the exam without any hitches except for the occasional intimidating voice of the man reminding us how deadly it was to fall into his trap. He had just finished collecting the last paper from the last student and was arranging the scripts in front of the class when we heard a deafening sound ”tooo! totooo!! tooo!!!” which we later got to know came from a gun. Everyone scampered for safety. Some jumping down from the first and second floors of the two storey building. In the midst of this pandemonium I was able to turn around to see if our brave and fearless lecturer would at least be a safe refuge to run to but, alas, what was left of the man was that 2” by 2” wood resting on the wall. There was no sign of my brave lecturer. He had magically ‘disappeared’. WATCH OUT FOR The Next EPISODE ;) Make Sure You Stay Glued to the Page And Hit Like Button as you read so i know u guys are following up. if no Much Response i will Stop. SHARE TO MAKE THE POST MUCH FASTER ;) TIME/TARGET: After I get 40 likes 20 comments 30 shares For this Post Follow *Yemzy* On Fb For More Updates Here *I Luv You All* VOICE of Ibadan - OYO
Posted on: Mon, 08 Sep 2014 17:11:43 +0000
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