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the preachers son (fortyfour)

Mr clement was our english teacher, he loved composing grammars like he studied in the university of cambridge.


We all hated him because his class was boring and so uneventful because you could find yourselve sleeping when he opens his mouth to start speaking.


I always watch his adam’s apple because it seems it was trying to come out of his mouth and his lessons is always long.


That fateful day, mr clement was taking the assembly which meant we were going to suffer big grammars alot and other stuffs and so out of fustration i shouted or my mouth ran out rather too loudly when i said “let this man close this his dirty mouth and allow us go to our classes.


That was my mistake because at that moment a female prefect who was passing by my line heard it and pulled me out.


My mates were begging her that i said the word with mistake but she was adamant and dragged me out, maybe she was senior Jacob’s girlfriend because she really vented her anger on me.


I was reported to the senior prefect who took me to the uncle clement, but the man was a God-fearing man, he just looked at me and said he has forgiven me.


I was overjoyed at the outcome and i quickly knelt down to thank him, but my punishment was not yet over.


“What did he do” a voice i had knew too well spoke. uncle sunny was still wielding his koboko and was passing by when he saw me kneeling and his over-sabiness made him inquire what was wrong.


“So you said you are stuburn like this eh, today you would smell your arse, oya follow me” uncle sunny shouted at me even when uncle clement told him to stop that i had been forgiven.


I was dragged to the staffroom and what i dreaded most happen. Legend has it that nobody that is punished or found punished in the staffroom went unscarred.


So it was it great sense of regret that i set my foot in the staffroom and i was asked to kneel down.


Any teacher that came in always asked what i did and when told they usually plant either a heavy slap or knock on my head and face and so that came in with their fresh cane which they took to class and touched nobody with always break it on my arse.


I cried that day till i started laughing, i was punished from assembly period till long break and when i was finally released my life had changed.


I had four fat horns on my head due to multiple knocking, with to riverine marks on my face like that of Benue and Niger and it was filled with designs of peoples fingers which slapped me.


My shorts were also feeling heavy like i poo but i know it was due to the huge rods that was used to pamper my arse as if they were constructing rail way road. I was sure that if i was called for soldiers recruit i would have passed all their terrible tests.


I made my way to the stream to wash my white body which looked like that of a labourer in a cement factory and i was joined by a small group of sympathiesers who cooed me with sorry and even went to buy things for me to eat.


I had entered into the black book of Goodnews secondary Grammar school. Atleast it was not senior Jacob that was a gangstar hero. i was also the talk of the school and my bad boy status increased.


But i promised myself that i was not going to be bad again because nothing was gained from it all. Even though i was bleeping brillant and had never got less than six right from my nursery school. I still saw myself as a faliure who could not stop keeping himself from trouble. And i tried hard to stop it but i just keep on getting wors

e all over again.




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the preachers son (fortythree)
the preachers son (fortyfive)
Updated: September 6, 2016 — 9:40 am

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