Tale 7: Of Bells, Bubblers, Boyz and Parties

‘Bubblers’, a slang firmly rooted in the 90’s

So, my skirting of lines that were meant to be toed, transversed the hours and walls of high school.
I stabbed classes (Sorry mama!), braided my hair, dealt in contraband, got into fights and played pranks on unwitting teachers.
Sincerely in light of today's high schooler, all these are tame :-)

I was not a ‘boarder’, More of an in-between, Day -boarders I think the term was.
living in the high rise staff quarters such that five minutes walk got me to my class.

This ‘day-boardering’ meant my after school life even though I went home to my bed,
Was always ruled by the ‘tin-tin bell’.
It meant prep in my Obong wear in the afternoon and evenings,
once or was it twice or more, it meant walking right into dinning hall unchallenged and eating like a boarder. O what tasteless grief.
(How on earth did you full time boarders stomach some of those meals all term?)
Lights out when it went off with none of the night time frolicking full boarders got into.
But I looked in, I could see - living in a high rise overlooking the boarding house.

So you see, I ended up being privy to much - both students and staff shenanigans.
Some I wrote off, others I filed away.
From the memories of the day a monkey terrorized boarders, to tales of ‘madam Koi-Koi’ ( a dripping tap or a ghost - each boarding high school had its own version)
To sights of Bubblers, dare devils
Scaling walls, gates and jumping gutters
For Suya, Boyz and Stupendous unilag connected parties
Of things thrown and missing their mark
ending in hands that opened up punishment

Let it not be said that decades later I became an ‘akpere’
from whom secrets emerge.

Memories of hand stitching together an outfit for a party at Chidinma Agbamuche-Maduka’s;
of raiding my brothers closet for Bisola’s class party (ahh her love for a certain Toni Campbell),
of creativity and adaptations in getting parental consent for escapades that only Grace saw one through and duly earned my ears pinched pretty pink

So I don’t cause error or offence to any,
I say a heart warming thank you to all W QCOG of 96
for an interesting six sessions: You all feature!

I bid farewell, for now, to tales of passing on the Torch!

Tales nestled in the midst of hills and valleys of Greatest Ife - See you tomorrow!