Tale 4: Sharing is Caring
Back Lockers, Desks, seats.
Corner girls, Bubbler chicks.
Window clicks and Back Benchers.
Teacher’s Pet and Gbogbo Ero!
So we made it into Q.C., Chinwe, Tosyn and ± 300 other girls from all corners of Nigeria and beyond it seemed. So many of us - an extra class was created to give room! Buildings changed, functionality shifted, demand for learning far outpacing supply of places and resources to do so. So you see - we were lucky to get in. Yes despite our brilliance - individual and collective, that you found a place to Pass on the Torch was indeed rarefied and celebrated.
You see this place of learning, where we were groomed as high achieving ladies, taught to stand up straight a la Bickersteth and Marinho and to enunciate and succeed, was one of many Federal owned high schools.
Owned by the Government, in an era of Coups, ‘Democrazies’ and abundant corruption. Owned by a schizophrenic leadership, a time when hardworking public servants ceased to be the norm, most sought the national cake and funds for reward of their labour hardly showed up for months on end. ‘Twas in this era that I trudged through high school. Days of learning with Hunger and Minimal sleep. Hmm.
Back to Lockers, Desks and seats.
Before the term commenced, we quickly learnt a mad rush occurred for what should be fundamental for each student but was not: a scramble for furniture and storage in class.
In my mind's eye, memories roll past like still black and white movies, gaining access to classrooms and scribbling names on furniture, locking them up so no one takes it. Well constructed wood giving way to metal monstrosities that tugged and tore at uniforms and skin!
First term of Junior Secondary School (J.S.S) 2 and my late entry into the scramble. Of course I ended up furniture-less, a scouring of other classes and floors turned up zilch. No desk, No Seat, No Back Locker. Sigh. And Classes began.
Looking back some I would have thought would + could + should help. None did. Not the clicks, the benchers or watchers.
Again but One. One with an alliterative name. Gimbiya Georgina Galadima. Thank you.
For caring and sharing without my asking - for weeks till furniture arrived for me.
You hold a special place in my heart.
A sweet dark chocolate skin Northern beauty who shared.
God Bless You Gimbiya.
Your action is one of those which spurs me in life to not wait to be asked to help but to offer and fill the gap.
The seed of caring you sowed in our past I speak to bring forth a bountiful harvest in your now!