The Paper Under My Belt | The Ink Well Creative Nonfiction Prompt #71

Growing up with my grandma was the best thing that ever happened to me as a child. I was pampered to a fault. My grandma was the best person in the world to me. She didn't know how to read nor write but believe me, all that is required to be human, she had. I would wake up only to wash my body, wear my uniform and munch the food that had already been set on the table then walk to school with some coins in my pocket to spend during the long break time at school.

For the six years that I spent with grandma Egondu, I looked well fed. I heard her telling one of her friends that I am her first grandchild and that she would do anything to make sure I am happy. This was another morale booster for me.

Paul Theodor Oja

I was doing quite well in school. My school uniform, though not always ironed, except for the gators that came with it from the tailor, I always appeared neat at school, courtesy of my loving grandma, Egondu.
My teachers always commended me for appearing very neat to school.

In class three, I made friends with Tunde. He was as young as I. We got along by sharing our goods and we often walked home together. Tunde was a good boy just like I was. One day, during the long break period, we went out to the field to watch an interclass match. Primary six students played against primary four and the game ended in a goalless draw. As we returned to our class, Tunde saw a bush rodent and chased after it. Bush rodents were very good meat back in the day. The rodent ran in its track, heading towards a hole when Tunde dived and caught it. Everyone who was watching the scene shouted, actor.

We all went to our classes. I was glad at Tunde's catch. That day began another phase of our friendship. We would go to look for almond fruit in the bush during the long break. Most times, we would spend more than the slotted time for long break looking for fruits.

The first time we returned back to school late from our almond fruit hunt, Tunde showed me around behind the boys toilet from where we entered the class unnoticed. This became our frequent attitude.

One fateful day, we were writing a continuous assessment in our class and the teacher grouped us into four. Tunde was in the third group while I was in the first. I wrote my assessment and came out with my group. The second group did and when it was the turn of Tunde's group, we had already planned that I would enter into the class with already written answers for Tunde. I was glad that I was helping a friend out.

I entered the class, telling the teacher that I wanted to give Tunde his pen. He allowed me. I never knew that our teacher was busy watching me. As I went for the paper that I had already hidden under my belt, my eyes met with our teacher, Mr Uthman and the paper fell. I tried to disguise myself like the paper was not important while it was on the ground, I placed my right leg to cover my evil intention, Mr Uthman walked up to me and asked that I moved back.

What's that paper on the ground all about?

He asked as I stammered trying to respond to his blazing question.

No, no, nothing sir.

The word couldn't form in my mouth. I moved to pick the paper and probably throw it into my mouth but I was not fast enough as he was already standing in front of me and reached for the paper. When he saw that there was an answer written in the paper, he asked Tunde to rise.

Did you plan this with him

Mr Uthmam asked Tunde who was already shivering in fear.

Yes, yes sir.

Tunde nodded, trying to confirm his involvement. I stood still, unshaken but confused.

We were asked to step aside as Mr Uthman completed the test with the other group and led us to the Headmaster's office. We were reprimanded by our headmaster and served a letter inviting our parents to school the next day. It was at this point that I knew I was in a great mess.

Muhammad-Taha Ibrahim

That day, Tunde and I went home without being in the company of each other since we started our friendship.

Immediately I got home, grandma noticed my countenance. She speedily rose from her usual sitting position and said to me:

Nwa'm (my child), what happened to you?

Now, beads of tears have started to gather in my eyes. I went ahead to pick the letter from my bag and handed it to her. She looked at it and said;

Ke'di ihe din'ka? (What does this means?)

I tried to manage my words not to aggravate her anger. I just said to her:

Mama, our head of school asked that we call our parents to school tomorrow or remain at home.

She caught my hand with a tight grip and said:

Did you do anything wrong at school?

Immediately, I refuted the question

No, mama.

She agreed and went to get me my lunch. The next day, mama went to school with me only to receive a shock.

You did that?

Mama said, shouting at me. It was the first time she'd ever shouted at me. I guess that she was so disappointed in me. She turned to the headmaster and said:

Please, do to him what the tinker did to the pan.

I was to face the music of my actions all alone. Tunde and I were asked to sweep the primary one classes for the rest of the term. It was such a humiliating punishment that we must observe, or else we would be expelled from the school. You can imagine the shame and quietness that ensued during the period when I faced the consequences of my actions.