Previously on Eze Returns To School…
To distract myself from the wait, I sat on my bed, my legs up and back propped up by the pillow, and thumbed vigorously on my GameBoy. The evening wore on, as the hostel emptied of students going off on their nocturnal jaunts. The solitude in my dormitory soon fractured my focus on the computer game, and I got up from the bed and walked out to the pavement to look around. It was a breezeless night with warm temperatures that made me wonder why the Harmattan was taking its time to come, now that the rains had moved on. Stars punctured the dark curtain of the sky above, their brilliance subdued by the bright lights of the hostel. There was no activity in the environment around me, but the quietude was broken by the occasional burst of loud laughter and the hum of muted conversations that came from one or two dormitories.
Those could only be SS3s, I thought, blowing out a breath of exasperation as I wondered where Chisom Ojukwu had gone off to. I was also perplexed as to the reason why he had singled me out to wait for him. Even though he had been in a good mood when he instructed me to stay behind in our dormitory, I entertained the sneaky feeling that he would return and unleash a mean spiritedness on me, one resulting from perhaps a perceived slight.
Remember he asked you to wait after congratulating you on being a man. At the whisper of the small silent voice, I felt my thoughts take a turn down an insidious route that had my palms turning clammy with cold sweat. The implication banged about in my mind, its screeching gaining prominence with every thump of my heart.
What if Senior Chisom… No, it can’t be! He’s not like that… Are you sure? You know most seniors do it to their juniors – Remember Diplo from last SS3 set… And Senior Festus from Unity House, who they say is doing it with his JSS3 school son… But – but Senior Chisom is a womanizer, he’s always chyking girls… So is Senior Afamefuna from Dignity House, who is now very chummy with Roland, the SS1 boy you people call ‘nwoke nwanyi’ behind his back… No! No, this cannot be! Senior Chisom is not like that!
I made a tremendous effort to get hold of myself and shut down the incredulous notions running rampant in my head. In a bid to further take my mind off my disturbing contemplation, I turned and walked back into the dormitory, back to my game.
I woke up with a start. For a moment, my head hammered with protest at the sudden wakefulness after such a brief slumber. I had nodded off while still playing my computer game and sitting against the wall on my bed. I could tell that I hadn’t slept long because the room was still empty and the night was still undisturbed outside.
Or was it?
The first thought that raced through my mind when I opened my eyes was that I’d been awakened by something, a sound perhaps. I had no idea what it was and for a few seconds, I breathed shallowly and listened to the nighttime noises of the hostel.
When I heard nothing out of the ordinary, I began to move my body and winced when I felt a stiffness in the back of my neck. I’d raised my hand to knead the crick away when I heard it. It was the sound of muffled laughter coming from a small distance away. The snickers were peculiar because they didn’t sound male.
There are girls in boys’ hostel? I thought, startled.
The sleep rapidly receded from my eyes as I got up from the bed to investigate. I inched my way to the door and peered around the jamb down the expanse of the pavement on my right. I caught sight of four figures huddled close together and shying away from the blaze of the lights coming from the windows of the dormitory next to them.
“Reggae, hurry up and off the light nau,” a distinctly female voice hissed. “I don’t want any unnecessary eyes seeing me here.”
The illumination from the dormitory fell on the speaker and I barely had time to glimpse the soft swell of her bosom and the unmistakable features of Hope House’s resident bad girl, Franca Umeh, before that section of the pavement was plunged into darkness.
“Ah, oshe o!” another female voice breathed out.
A short moment later, a figure – no doubt Reggae – lurched out of Dorm 3 and headed toward the group.
“Where Chisom dey sef?” someone else, a male, growled.
“I dey here! Make una dey enter nah!” a voice hollered from the direction of the gate.
I jumped and retreated sharply back into my dormitory, feeling a wash of guilt, as I was positive Senior Chisom had seen me peeking through the door at his party.
“Eze!” he called from outside.
I halted my headlong flight for my bed.
As I turned, he bounded into the room. The constriction of my heart relaxed when I saw no anger on his face. The smile he was wearing when he went off earlier was still in place.
“Come, follow me,” he said, crooking a finger at me.
He waited until I’d walked up to him, before slinging an arm over my shoulder and guiding me out of the room. We started down the pavement; the group of five students was no longer on the pavement ahead of us. As we approached Dorm 3, I could hear the sounds of their chatter coming from Dorm 4.
“Uh, senior…” I began hoarsely.
“Shhh,” Chisom shushed. “Just wait, Eze.”
He ushered me into the dormitory and turned to lock the door, leaving me to face the astonished gazes of the other five people in the room.
There were three girls and two boys. Reginald Anozie, whose nickname was Reggae, appeared to be on the assignment of shutting the wooden shutters over the windows. He gaped from the last window he’d been about to close. The other boy, the one who had growled for Chisom, was Diala Edeko, a stoutly-built boy, who stared from above the glowing end of the cigarette he’d just lit. Franca Umeh stood next to him, about to strike a light from the matchbox in her hand; a cigarette hung from her rouged lips. The second girl was Oby Nnorom, a light-skinned SS3 girl who was famed for her voluptuous figure; she’d already unbuttoned her shirt and the creamy swell of her breasts threatened to spill over her brassiere.
It was the third girl who broke the silence with a hissing snarl. “Jeezuzkraist, Chisom! Who the hell is this?” She was Remi Giwa, the female Sports prefect. She was also in a semi-state of undress, and was clearly flustered as she dived for the skirt she’d already pulled off and tossed to a bed.
“Hello, guys, this is Eze,” Chisom said with a clap of his hand on my shoulder.
“Eze, pleased to meet you,” Oby purred.
“Hey! We are not pleased to meet him!” snapped Remi. “For chrissakes, he’s a junior boy!” She was almost done rectifying her decency.
Franca plucked her cigarette from her mouth and dropped it to the ground, squashing it with her sandaled foot. Her expression was just as wrathful as Remi’s as she snapped at Chisom, “What is this, eh Chisom? What’s the meaning of this?”
“Calm down, girls,” Chisom said, waving his hands in a placating gesture. His smile showed that he was unfazed by the girls’ show of temper. “This boy is ma mehn…”
I was? Since when?
“…and today, he became a man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Franca was clearly not yet ready to be mollified.
“It means he has jizzed his way into manhood.”
“Will you speak English please,” Remi fired, looking crossly from Chisom to me and back.
“Oh my god,” Reginald cut in with a snigger. He moved away from the window, his eyes dancing merrily. “This small boy don troway sperm?” He rocked on his heels with ribald laughter. Diala joined in, while Chisom continued smirking.
Mortification flooded my face with heat, and I dropped my gaze to my feet.
“So he has had his first wet dream – big deal! Why bring him here?” Franca said.
“Because he who becomes a man deserves to know what it feels like, darling,” Diala said in between puffs of smoke as he ran a hand down Franca’s side.
Understanding dawned on the senior girl instantly, and she recoiled from Diala’s touch. “What! Please tell me you’re joking!”
Yes, please tell me you’re joking! I was also beginning to comprehend the reason for my presence here, and the thought filled me with horror.
“No, I’m not, Franca,” Chisom replied.
“You cannot be serious!” Remi screeched.
“Oh, come on, Remi –”
“Don’t ‘oh come on’ me!” She raised a hand to punctuate her exclamation. “You can’t honestly want this small boy to join us!”
“I don’t mind,” Oby cooed, as her mammoth breasts sidled closer to me. “He’s cute.”
“Oh shut up, Oby!” Franca flashed at her. “You will fuck anything as long as it has a penis!”
The barb bounced off the endowed senior girl as she giggled with a coy “So true.”
“Speaking of penises,” Remi said sneeringly, “how effective can his even be?”
At the dismissive wave of her hand in my direction, I was stung by another wave of embarrassment. I stared hard at the ground, willing it to open and swallow me whole.
“Hey, hey,” Chisom said in laughing protest. “Remi, take it easy, don’t be insulting ma mehn.”
“You boys don’t get!” Remi snapped. “I’m a prefect –”
“Ehen? And so?” Reginald cut in. “The boy knows better than to report nah.”
“That’s not my point! How can I, a whole prefect, be part of this where my junior will now come and see my nakedness?”
“Meaning it’s my own non-prefect nakedness that he can see, eh?” Franca rounded on her.
“I don’t mind him seeing my nakedness,” Oby giggled.
“Don’t be such a slut, Oby,” Remi snarled.
“Hey, easy, don’t insult the babe nah,” Chisom chided with a chuckle. “She understands wetin dey.”
“You boys are not serious!” Remi said. “I’m out of here!” She drew herself to her full height, ever Her Majesty the Sports prefect, and started for the door.
“Hey, babe, no nah, not so fast!” Reginald burst out, hurrying forward to intercept her exit.
“Me too,” Franca declared. “If he’s staying, I’m going.” She didn’t move though. She simply stood there, with her hands akimbo. “What’s it to be, boys?”
“Chisom abeg, this thing dey hungry me,” Diala growled. “The boy can get his chance whenever. No use am spoil our parole abeg.”
Chisom let out a heavy sigh. “Mehn, I wanted him to feel something o.”
“He can still feel something,” Oby said. “He can feel this.”
All eyes, including mine, were instantly riveted on her, as she deftly reached behind her body to unsnap her brassiere. The undergarment slackened, and her breasts swelled, dangerously close to bursting free. We were afforded a tiny glimpse of a nipple pushing through the top of the bra.
“Oh this babe…” Chisom sighed in a voice that was suddenly guttural with lust.
I swallowed hard.
Oby wagged a finger at me. “Come on, Eze, come and complete your journey to manhood.” She giggled.
“Eze, oya go and touch,” Reginald said with a cackle.
I swallowed again. And again. And remained rooted where I stood.
“Oby breast na winch right from time,” Diala said as he sniggered. “The bobo no sabi waka again.”
I felt a hand on my back. It had to be Chisom’s. I couldn’t turn around to check. Those mammary glands had my full attention.
“Oh boy, go and touch,” Chisom said as he urged me gently forward.
“Eze, Eze, Eze,” Reginald began to chant, waving a fist in the air.
I moved with wooden steps toward Oby. I was now swallowing convulsively, and my heart was beating rapidly behind the question as to why this senior girl’s breasts terrified me so.
The answer darted through my mind in the flash of a face, the sound of a laugh, and the feel of supple skin. Her face rose in my mind, the bottomless oasis that was her eyes arresting me with the silent admonition that if it wasn’t with her, I shouldn’t be doing it.
I stopped short before Oby.
“Senior Oby, please…” I husked. “I can’t do this…”
“What!” the three SS3 boys said in shocked unison.
Oby cocked her head, her countenance open and unruffled by my apparent snub. “Why, dear? What’s wrong?” she purred.
“It’s just that – I like this girl in my set… And she’s very beautiful… And I like her – in fact, I love her – she’s the love of my life… And I can’t do this, because it’s wrong… It will be unfair to her… Please, senior, don’t be angry… Please…” Beads of sweat dotted my brow as the words tripped out of my mouth so fast I was babbling.
“You’re denying yourself the pleasure of touching Oby’s breasts because you love one kain yeye girl?” Diala hissed in disbelief. “This nigger don fall my hand.”
“Oh shush, Diala,” Franca admonished. “I think it’s sweet.”
“The boy no get liver joor,” Diala grunted.
“This girl you love,” Oby interjected, still looking at me, “what House is she in?”
“She’s in your House – Dignity House.”
Her eyes widened just then, as though a light bulb had been turned on in her head. “Wait, you’re Eze – the Eze?!”
“It’s Anulika Egereonu, right? The half sister to Donald Kanu from last set, abi?”
I nodded. The Eze?
“Oh wow,” Oby gushed with a short laugh. “She’s my bunky, and I always overhear her talking to her friends about the Eze in her class that she likes.”
Ah! The Eze!
So Anulika talks about me! And she likes me, all her shakara aside! A song of joy threatened to burst forth from my lips.
“Oya!” Chisom cut in. His hand fell on my shoulder. “Because of love, you have missed your chance. Oya, come and go.”
“Finally!” Remi heaved in her irritable tone.
Chisom marshaled me to the door, unlocked it and stepped out onto the pavement with me. “Well,” he began, “at least now you know this your girl likes you too. She’s lucky to have you. Because whenever Oby releases her weapons of man’s destruction eh” – he gestured before his chest with his fingers splayed – “every man wants to touch. Every man but you, Eze. You don fall her rep.”
There was a compliment in there somewhere, I was sure. And I took pride in it. My eyes were downcast as I smiled.
“Okay nau, Eze, you can go. Remember, see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil.”
But you didn’t mention ‘gist no evil’, I thought as I scampered off toward the gate, class-bound, my heart bursting with all the stories I now had to tell Joseph and Ibuka.
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