Last year at Saint Patrick's

Psalter week five

Can you remember when you resumed? When your head was shiny from the hair cream you doused over your neat haircut. The time you dragged that Ghana must go bag filled with things that you didn't think would finish in a month?
Yes that Saturday of April that you resumed school. You refused to eat that night because you felt you just resumed, home cooked meals were still lingering in your system and you gave out that plate of food to someone that sat far away from your table; now look at yourself and tell me if that provision is still as much as what it was when you first resumed.

You thought that if you give out one spoon of milk and chocolate to a friend that asked it would cause him to come back again or worse bring others to come and beg so you hid it and stylishly soaked your garri when no one was watching.  Now look at yourself, your trouser keeps falling off even with the belt and the portion of food you get to eat in the refectory. You hate Saturdays the most because you had to do labour and one hour of cleaning before breakfast and you were always angry because you were hungry. At this point the Mr. Okebule's pankere you always dusted every time he flogged you will pain you because it will make you think back to your empty can of milk and the once full bags of garri. Call your parents to come and visit, your friends will tell you but you would remain silent because you knew that the only times your parents came to school was for Christmas Carol and valedictory service. One day the priest in charge calls you into his room and you squirmed at first because you felt he must've heard when you called your class mate aditi eran after arguing who the most powerful hokage was in the Japanese animation that you were disposed to watch on washing days. You calmed down a bit when he said nothing about the insult and asked you to carry a large tray with coolers and plates and to eat the rest of the food that was enough to keep you full for at least four hours.

The one you called aditi eran begged you for a chunk of meat which you shared with the other boy you constantly called elede gan because he was too dirty even when you helped him tidy his space. The three of you strived hard to find garri to soak together, indulged in 'Na game' where your plate of food would heap up like a hill the days you managed to get the serving spoon in your hand, you will use it as an opportunity to punish that senior in JSS2 that rubbished you anyhow in the dormitory. The older ones wouldn't interfere because it is none of their business and you will feel like a successful villain. Na game wouldn't be enough to quench your huger and you will get into food betting. "Take my Friday night rice and I'll get half of your Sunday rice and meat" you will tell that dull class mate and he will agree to it. From that point you will become a full blown Na game master getting up to three plates of food in a day.

You take the bull by the horn one hot Sunday afternoon and call your parents after getting two plates of rice you stacked away in a cooler under your bed, you only washed that cooler on Sunday morning because it would the glorious hot Sunday rice and chicken and then the cold Maltina Father Jola bought on his way from town. You would hear your parent's cherry voice excited to finally hear from you after a month of being away then you will tell them that you're out of provision and your mother would tell you not to worry and expect her arrival the next Saturday. It has never happened before so you make it a prayer point while you meditate in the chapel till that Saturday comes.

You will stand outside the hostel and watch the rest of your class mate drag in Ghana must go filled with provision and coolers of home cooked food and you will begin to bite your nails and beg God to forgive you for stealing five cubes of sugar from your bunkmate's locker so that your mother can show up.
You will get tired of waiting and pacing about and you will go back to you room with despair, your mother sly you, you will conclude when the bell for siesta rings loudly; feeling bad and wishing you could go home but Thirty minutes into siesta somebody comes into your room to call you. Your mother is sitting outside with two bags. The bags don't matter at first until after you devour the cooler of jollof rice and chicken that is as big as your head only then would you drag the bags and check them. Enough provision to last you till you go home.

You will watch the days of hunting garri vanish before your eyes, Na game season would die down for a while because of the new set of provision but you still won't be wise to manage it. You will soak three to four times in a day, give your food out because the corn flakes are still plenty. But next time when it finishes your mother won't be able to come again, you will go back to the betting and helping people to wash clothes and do their morning duties for plates of food until the term is over and you go home for holiday, to resume a new term and repeat the psalter week five cycle.