STORY....... OUR RESULTS ARE OUT!

"Hello Tosin, I hear say our result don come out, abeg
help me check my own my matric number na 699"
"Okay na, I go check am when I enter school this
afternoon" I replied the caller.
I hissed as I ended the phone call. That afternoon, the
session results had just been pasted. I had received
over thirty calls and 25 matric numbers , most of the
calls from my coursemates which I dont really know
much. Students and their penchant for disseminating
and seeking information , only God knew how they got
to know that I didn't go home for the break and how
they got my phone number.
I rushed my bath and took a cup of cassava flakes, by
the time i checked my phone again, I had 5 more
missed calls. I ignored the missed calls and switched
to the silent profile, I wasn't interested in picking calls
anymore that day
There was an hullabaloo of students as I got close to
the Civil Engineering Department Notice Board.
" Hey, Tosin welcome oo, God don help me o" Martin
said as he rushed towards me with his face full of
smiles " I no get carry over o, oya make we go check
your own na"
Have I told you about Martins? Martins was my course
mate whose matric number was next to mine. We
always found each other in the same exam hall.
Martins is what I call a very sharp photocopying
machine. The guy was always poor in every subject, of
course except for COPYING 101, he always had
distinction in that. What astonishes me about Martins is
that distance is never a barrier to him, he always finds
a way of communicating with other students, he also
had a sharp vision, he could see answers from your
booklet even if your handwriting was as small as
microorganisms. Maybe because he had a distinct set
of eyeballs that could make Segun Arinze loose hope in
an 'eye contest'.
Getting close to the board wasn't easy as a crowd of
students were gathered there, some had checked their
result but would not leave the board, they were ones
who had narrow escapes from withdrawal and the
group of the gossipers who talked about every other
persons result.
" Tosin, I have checked your own, yours is 4.6" one of
the gossips, told me as she spotted me.
"Okay, thank you. I still have to see it myself" I replied
without taking a second look at her.
As I got to the board, I couldn't help but notice 'Ak47',
his face showed remorse and regret, he had been
advised to withdraw, Ak47 whose real name was
Akeem who was one of the notorious guys in the class,
I remember him boasting on the day we wrote the last
paper, 'Dem no born any lecturer papa well make him
give me carry over for this school, I go show am
Pepper"
Now, it seemed he was the one who had been showed
pepper.
I scrolled through the list to confirm my GP, yes she
was correct, I had 4.62. "Well, thats distinction, thank
God" I said to myself. Then I brought out a pen with
the paper I had written the matric number of the
callers ,checked for their Gps and wrote them in a
hurry because I couldn't stand the push from the back
anymore. Maybe I should have been patient because
my impatience there almost cost me my head.
Before I got out of the school premises, I started
sending reports to some of my friends via Whatsapp
and BBM. Then I received a call from Wale whose
parent's house was only thirty minutes drive away from
school.
"Oh boy, U don check am?"
"Yes, wetin be your matric no?"
"691"
"Okay" I checked through the sheet of paper and
replied in a low tone "omo na 1.2 you get o"
" Ah! No be withdraw be that?" Wale asked in shock
" E be like so o"
"Ah, wo ni pe ko weedrawn, ti Baba e ba gbo, o ma le e
jade kuro nile ni" I heard an underground voice speak in
yoruba language. I was sure it was his mum who was
listening to our conversation. She said " They've asked
you to withdraw? If Your father gets to know, he would
send you packing"
I wondered how Wale failed the exam. I knew Wale
studied hard, he told us how he wasn't serious during
his secondary school days, how he failed WAEC papers
three times woefully having the 'fatai' grade in all
subjects except yoruba. His father had vowed not to
send him to the University, it took the intervention of
their Pastor to change his father's decision. After
which the father warned that if he failed again, he
would have him beheaded and send his head to the Ifa
Priest in the village for sacrifice to cleanse the land.
By the time I got back to my room, I was soaked in
sweat, I took a shower and laid on my bed wearing only
shorts. I slept off and started having sweet dreams, A
pretty damsel served me a plate of pounded yam and
egusi soup. I was about to take the first lump when
someone shook me violently.
I opened my eyes to find Wale holding a glittering
machete above my head.
"Shhhhhh" he said to me " shey na you wan destroy my
life abi? I must carry your head go house today"
Only God knows how I got the strength and wisdom to
dodge the machete strike and escape from the room.
Thank God for adrenaline, I've heard it could make an
heavily pregnant woman somersault when trouble
comes.
It was later I discovered that I had told Wale the wrong
GP, he didnt score 1.2, infact, he had 3.38. His father
had heard he got 1.2 and in anger, immediately sent his
son away from home, after which he took all the boys
credentials and certificates to an unknown akara
hawker
"Please tell me, would Wale ever forgive me?"

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