CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: KNOWING MORE ABOUT THE SCHOOL
"Last junior!"
The sharp call rang out from the passageway, slicing through the quiet of the hostel like a whip. We were just sitting on our beds when the voice reached us.
"That's a senior calling for us," Victoria muttered quickly, dropping her bag on her bed with a thud. I frowned, confused, but instinctively followed her.
"You better run!" Morayo hissed, dashing past me. "The last junior in the hostel who doesn't answer the senior fast enough will be sent on an errand."
Her words jolted me. I clutched my bag tighter and raced to catch up with them, my slippers slapping against the concrete floor.
By the time we reached the open space outside, a small crowd of juniors had already gathered, all of them slightly out of breath. The fear of being "the last" was written plainly on their faces. No one wanted to be unlucky today.
"Hey, you," the senior's voice boomed, her finger jabbing in my direction.
My heart stopped. Thump. Thump. Thump. My pulse quickened so loudly I could almost hear it in my ears. I froze, too stunned to even move.
"I'm talking to you! You there, with the yellow school bag!" she clarified, pointing directly.
Relief washed over me like cold water. Thank goodness—it wasn't me. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted a nervous-looking girl with a bright yellow bag strapped across her back. She shuffled forward reluctantly, her shoulders slumped.
"The rest of you can go back to your rooms," the senior dismissed, waving us away.
Like a flock of freed birds, the crowd dispersed immediately. Morayo exhaled loudly beside me. "Floral, I even thought it was you the senior meant."
"Me too," I admitted with a shaky laugh, still feeling my heartbeat thudding. "When she pointed, I swear I could hear the sound of my own heart trying to escape."
"Lol," Morayo snorted as we headed back. "Not all juniors came out, though. Some are definitely hiding under their bunks."
"Wow, so others are running from errands too?" I asked, though the answer was obvious.
"You already know the answer," Victoria said with a sly smile as she sat back on her bed. Morayo threw herself onto hers, clearly relieved.
I hesitated, curious. "What kind of errands do they even send juniors on?"
Victoria leaned back and began removing her socks with practiced ease. "Anything they don't feel like doing—washing plates, scrubbing clothes, buying things for them, or fetching water."
"That's… really stressful," I sighed, sinking onto my bed to change from my shoes into slippers.
But Victoria only shrugged. "I'm not complaining. When I become a senior, I'll send my juniors too." She reached under the bunk, pulled out her slippers, and slid them on as though the matter was already decided.
I stared at her, wide-eyed. "You mean when we get to J.S.S. 2?"
(For context, J.S.S. means Junior Secondary School. Instead of grade 7, 8, or 9, Nigerians call them J.S.S.1, J.S.S.2, or J.S.S.3. The same applies to S.S.S. — Senior Secondary School — and even primary classes. It's just their own naming system.)
"Yes, of course," Victoria replied firmly. "By then, I'll have juniors under me, and they'll do some of my errands. Simple."
I giggled nervously. "Lol, I don't want seniors to send me around, so I think I won't bother my juniors either. But… don't you think the J.S.S.3 seniors will also be here to boss you around?"
"Whatever," Victoria said airily, already unbuttoning her uniform. "As long as I have my juniors, that's what matters. Enough questions. Let's change quickly; the timekeeper will soon ring the bell for prep."
"Prep time?" I echoed, puzzled.
"Yes," she answered as she neatly laid her folded house-wear on the bed.
"And… what does that mean?"
"It's a period for students to go to class and read," Victoria explained, slipping into her house uniform.
I raised a brow. "And do you even like that?"
"I don't have a choice," she replied, zipping up her small school bag. "It's my chance to read properly. I can't afford to repeat this class."
Her words struck me. Repeating a class? That thought alone was scary. I quietly packed my own bag—maths, basic science, English, and my jotting note. "I'll use the opportunity to catch up on the topics I missed," I murmured.
"Good. And I'll help you with whatever you don't understand," Victoria promised, adjusting her clothes. She glanced at her box, then added, "I'll get something to eat first. The food from dining is never enough."
I turned towards Morayo's bunk. She was already dressed in her house uniform, happily eating cereal.
Jeez. Suddenly, hunger punched at my stomach. I grabbed my locker key and went to fetch something quick too.
When we finally made it to the class, Victoria reminded me: "Remember, don't hesitate to ask if you don't understand anything."
I nodded, but my attention was caught by the teacher who had just entered. A strict-looking woman scanned the room. "No noise. Sit and read, or copy your notes," she instructed firmly before sitting down.
I slid into my seat, my gaze drifting to the empty chair beside me. He wasn't here. Maybe still in his hostel, or… busy somewhere. I pushed the thought aside and opened my jotting book, forcing myself to focus on maths.
Then—voices broke the calm.
"Say that again! Say that again! Let the whole class hear you," two girls sneered, circling a smaller one like hawks.
I frowned. Trouble.
"Be quiet if you don't want Mrs Mustapha to punish you," another girl whispered nervously.
"You—be quiet! Who's talking to you?" snapped the bigger of the bullies, her voice laced with venom.
The teacher's head snapped up. "You in the middle—" she pointed at Victoria—"write the names of all the students making noise. Before I return, I want that list ready."
Victoria's eyes widened. Me? Her? Why her?
I glanced at the big girl again. Her face was mean, almost carved in stone, her eyes gleaming with defiance. Something about her sent a shiver through me. She looked like someone who could make life difficult if she wanted.
I swallowed hard. Poor Victoria. She had just been pulled into the centre of a storm she hadn't asked for.
And for the first time since coming to this school, I wondered: what else don't I know about the way things really work here?