When they finally released me, it was around midnight. I was tired, hungry and weak. And I was scared too. Scared because the bell had long gone for ‘lights-out’ and I feared some senior-on-duty might find me and punish me. It was dark outside and as I made my way back to my house, I could hear the continuous chirping of crickets and see the patterns the fireflies made in the air as they flew around me. As beautifully as they looked, I couldn’t find enough strength to appreciate them. My whole body ached from the massive beatings I’d received and I longed for my bed.
There were four houses in the school. They stood side by side each other and were separated by large lawns and walkways. On these lawns, we often dried washed clothing, bed sheets, footwear, backpacks, foam covers, borrowed t-shirts and sometimes, ‘coloured clothing’. They were called ‘coloured’ because they were forbidden. That is to say, they were not listed on the school’s prospectus. The school had prescribed attire for students to wear at every time of the day. In the mornings, during classes, everyone was required to wear their school uniforms Form One or to Form Five students wore cream shirts and Khaki shorts to match while the Lower Six and Upper Six students were entitled to deep blue shirts and Khaki trousers.
After classes, each student was required to wear their house uniforms. These house uniforms were colour-coded according to the four houses. We wore our house uniforms with disdain because they were made from a silky-like material, which was very uncomfortable to wear in the heat. What made the situation worse was the fact that each student was entitled to one, just one set of house uniforms! So we resorted to smuggling. By this, we would comply with all the rules regarding ‘coloured clothing’ on the first day of each school term. Usually, the various housemasters would inspect every bag and box that accompanied students to school. They did this to identify students who hid unauthorized clothing in their belongings.
So we devised a strategy. We would not bring coloured clothing to school at all on the first day of the term. By doing so, anyone would think that was the end of the story. How wrong they were. You see, at the beginning of the term, we would go through the motions – we will report to the school administration block, pay our fees at the finance office, our bags would be inspected and nothing would be found. The housemaster, thinking all was well and good, would check us into our rooms and all would be set for an event-free term. What the housemasters did not know was that most students never brought coloured clothing to school. We knew better than that. Instead, we would go on to receive countless consignments of coloured clothing smuggled into the school by friends, cousins, so-called aunties and uncles and a host of others who came to the school on visiting days.
The lawns had become a place for drying our clothing because the increasing number of students year-on-year meant that the few drying lines in the school could not service everybody. We loved to do that because we didn’t need holding pegs to hang our clothing on the lawns. But they came at a cost. The lawns were large and bare; there were no demarcations and definitely, no space allocations, everyone could dry their stuff anywhere they wanted. And unfortunately, that meant, anybody could deliberately or accidentally collect any dried item at anytime from anywhere without any confrontation or suspicion from anyone. This happened every weekend without fail. On one occasion, one student was robbed of all his belongings in a single day. He had gone to collect his washed and dried clothes from the lawn and found to his dismay that none of the items there belonged to him! He swore that he had dried his clothes right there, much to the surprise of everyone gathered around him. They knew he was right, they just couldn’t tell how it all happened. Yet the practice continued; we dried our stuff there everyday with renewed energy and surprising vigor.
I walked on towards Quarcoo House, my hall of residence; tired and weary; I couldn’t wait to get into my bed. But when I got to a few metres away from my House, I stopped. I was contemplating the thought of climbing up to my room or slipping into the Sick Bay. Somehow, I felt that if got into the room at that time of the day, the senior students would punish me. It was acceptable for seniors to stay late in the night and study. The rule only applied to seniors because it was generally agreed that since they were closest to sitting for the ‘O’ and ‘A’ Level exams, it made sense to give them liberty so long as that liberty was directed at their studies.
So, the ‘Lights Out’ period did not apply to all seniors; Fivers and Sixers alike. And how some abused this privilege! In fact, it became common knowledge among junior students that if by some very unfortunate circumstance, a junior happens to be awake at any time after ‘lights out’, he’d be meat for the hungry seniors! They would ‘fry’ him; employing all sorts of ridiculous drills till he begs for mercy. So as I stood there that night, my whole body weary as a result of the day’s encounter, I dreaded the thought of them using me as a stress-relieving sport. I decided against the obvious and chose instead, to walk to the Sick Bay and pass the night. It had been an overly eventful day.
