Tuesday 6 October 2015

If Wishes Were Horses(Fiction)

My head was swarming with a myriad thoughts. I had never felt this way before. It was difficult to hold on to any one thought as the faces around me seemed to fade to a blur. I knew I was happy, I just didn’t know why.

Slowly, the pictures began to take a mild clarity. I could make out the surroundings. I was at the convocation arena! Yes! I remember we used to jostle for position in queues every time we needed to make use of the ATM machines here; I remember I would usually talk someone into helping me make withdrawals because my position in the queue was far-back. We all silently shared in the grief of a failed system.
                                                                   ****
The voice of the MC of the occasion invaded my train of thoughts, jarring me to reality.
“…and the award for the best graduating student of the year goes to the only first-class honours student of this graduating class; our very own Ebuka Kelechukwu. He made a cumulative grade point average of….”

Only then did I realize it was my convocation ceremony! How time flies! It felt like yesterday- when this same school wouldn’t offer me admission for four post-secondary school years no matter how hard I tried. I still recollect vividly how disappointed I was when it finally did. I already got an admission to study in the US and Papa wouldn’t let me go because ‘it is expensive studying overseas’.

“…student of high repute. Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s give him a rousing applause as he steps up to collect his award”. His voice bellowed out from the loudspeakers.
The whole picture became crystal clear, I noticed the mammoth crowd gathered like they did each year to celebrate the transition of book-stuffed but clueless students who have successfully made it through the five years of mental persecution. I recognized everyone I know- course mates, lecturers and the vice-chancellor.
I slowly but firmly made for the podium, holding my oversize convocation gown in place. I hadn’t prepared any speech, probably because I never saw this coming. I knew I just had to come up with a speech before I reach the microphone-studded podium.
“The vice-chancellor of this great mental institution, the dean of students’ affairs, academic and non-academic staff here present, my fellow students and our numerous well-wishers, permit me to stand on the existing protocol”.
It was somewhat amusing at that point watching the crowd listen with rapt attention. I gently wiped a bead of sweat from my brow before delivering my sucker punch.

“Permit me to say unequivocally that our Education system which this school is a part of, has failed us woefully! Permit me to also assert that today, just like every other convocation day, many of us will return to our homes and realize that our years here was more of a dream-sapping, mentally-gruelling, academically-clueless streak than it is of a mental and academic emancipation. To cut the long story short, I want to say that I don’t want a first-class honours from this school. Not because my poor parents at home wouldn’t love it, not just because it places a certain false sense of unprepared-for responsibility to perform magic even when we are not properly taught how to, but also because I honestly do not want it”.
At this point, I could see the vice-chancellor’s face crumple in visible annoyance but I didn’t care; I don’t care.
“I solemnly beg you of this, please take your first-class and give me a second-class upper honours biko!
And do it as quickly as possible so I can leave immediately with it. I have big dreams but this school almost snuffed life out of them. Oga VC, don’t take this personal, inugo?
I was going to tell them how some students chose to understand that inasmuch as getting good grades is important, having dreams and working towards them is of equal if not more importance; while some others simply chose to just go along and more often ended up not getting as much grades as they wanted, and not getting ‘educated’ either. I was going to tell them how my friend represented this country internationally on numerous occasions in areas parallel to his course of study, a good example of the fizzling chunk of students who work towards self-development instead of cramming pointless school books. I had a whole lot to tell them.
                                                                ****
I felt something hit me and I cringed in pain. I slowly opened my eyes to realize I was sprawled on the floor. The journey I began last night on the mattress, ended on the rug-ed floor. Then reality hit me- I have an engineering survey class to attend by 7:30am.
 Chai!

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