Sunday, 11 August 2013


I was opportune to walk the corridors of my Alma mater again about a month ago, although this post is way overdue, I made a promise to myself I was going to write on it, well, here I am.
When I look down the memory lane, I can vividly see that my most cherished memories are those of my high school. Of all the educational institutes that I’ve been associated with, this is the ONLY institute that the most memories were made.
A wave of nostalgia sweeps through me when i chance across the pictures taken back then. A sudden desire, a longing to go back, sit in those classes, chat with those great classmates... I know it is next to impossible, but then, my wishes are mine and so is my imagination.
I happened to make some of my best friends for life here at my Alma mater. We were very silly then, good at studies, fun loving and a bit of rule breakers!
Coming to talk about friends, I guess I could go on forever and ever. Jacqueline, Pauline, Milan, Nnedi, Collete, Ilege, Effiong, Ush, Ojay, Achu, Tchiza… (Common names withheld) are SOME people whom I’d never forget throughout my life. My high school friends are the most unique and different group of girls you will ever meet and I wouldn't trade them for the world.  We stood together through thick and thin (Trust me! there were actual thick and thin times).  My friends weren't badasses but we're definitely not conformists, we're definitely not quiet, and we're definitely NOT sinless.  We damn well knew how to have a good time.  This was obvious if you took a walk through the halls any day of the school year... Their inclusion in my life made it all the more colourful and worthy.
My favourite time of the day (besides lunch time) was the time between each class.  Screaming obscenities and inappropriate random gestures were popular in those three minutes we had to run to our locker, run two, three floors up, and pray to the several crosses you passed along the way that you were not late because that would result in flogging or punishment,(personally I preferred the latter but the former was always better).
I'm really proud of where I come from and where I've been.  And recently, I've never been more proud of my high school experience.

So it was a Catholic school.  Catholic school = rules. (Trust me; no one felt these rules as hard as I felt them). Now, some of my favourite rules applied to the uniform.  Oh yeah, about the uniform.  It was kind of unique, I guess you could say.  We wore sky-blue skirts to our knees, white-nit collared shirts, the same shoes and socks that made us look like products from factories. I wouldn't trade my ‘Sunday white’ for the world. It was elegant. A few months into to the first year, though hard to accept, the rules didn't even matter anymore.  You had to get used to them fast. It was survival of the fittest.  The girls who couldn't handle listening attentively and not obeying diligently were kicked out.

As far as the all-girls, no boys’ thing goes - I kinda liked it.  Not only was being boy-less beneficial in the classroom, but also at lunch time.  Nothing could stop us from getting our food.  Food was like a fresh antelope and we were like tigers.  We literally raced to the refectory most times, played with our food - personified our fried yams, stuffed scones in our mouths like boxing teeth protectors, and shoved as many pineapples as we could in our mouth. Being normal was not an option.

I make it sound like it was a lot of fun, but we actually worked our brains off.   We worked hard and I guess that's why the fun we had seemed to be so much more fun.  We needed each other to survive the day.  We needed each other's support to make it through the brutal resumption tests, midterms and examinations or just when we're having a really bad day.
I could brag on and on defending my high school but I, honestly, there were also ugly moments, best left aside.
Well, my school gave me some very valuable lessons in life. I learnt to revere my teachers and elders here. That, according to me, is one lesson which is best if inculcated at an early age. Though, at initial stages, this learning was in a crude form,(u know, your class rep hitting the locker in a coded manner, standing up and all saying in a monotone…”Goood moooorrrnniiinnng maaaaa”aaammmmm”! Back then, it was a ritualistic early morning song that we thought we had to sing on seeing the chalkbearers!), later, it became a part and parcel of our lives. Then, we were taught to SEEK for opportunities. True, for some days, we had to be spoon-fed, but later, it was thrust upon us that we were all warriors who had to fight for ourselves, and all by ourselves. This was one lesson that is really helping me in my life ahead.
There are these times when I become so desperate because, the harder I try to reach out to the memories of those days, the more they seem to slip away from me.
As my previous posts, this one doesn’t follow any particular order. Just that I have typed at a stretch for 45 minutes, and in a random order, mentioned whatever came into my mind. I do hope I have succeeded in stirring some old memories of yours. Believe me, nothing like reliving those old days in the backdrop of your memories. After all,   Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.  And, I strongly believe that….”The leaves of memory seemed to make a mournful rustling in the dark.”…God bless!!!!
P.S: It been quite a while here, well, this time, I’m here to stay, Enjoy reading!!!


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