I got to school to join the assembly on Friday morning. I had already gotten my sport wear which was for the yellow house. The simple rounded-necked t-shirt and pleated miniskirt fitted me well. Miracle was in red house while Don was in the blue house. Once I joined the queue, Mrs. Igwe, the school principal, made an announcement. The staff of teachers stood in the front corridor of J. S. S 1 class, on the first block where the assembly usually holds.
Mrs. Igwe greeted us with her usual bright smile and started. “Our school got an invitation today. We will hold a debate competition with Ikwo, Ivo, and Ohaozara Community High School on the 12th of next month. Only J. S. S 1 and J. S. S 2, class A to D students, will participate in the competition. With a total of ten students from each class, I hope you work towards it. If you’re interested, report to your class monitor to report to me. The list of the participants will be printed and posted on the notice board by the end of next week, okay?”
“Okay, ma.” The students obediently chorused.
“Once it’s 11:00 a.m., Joshua Abani! Where is he? The timekeeper!” she alerted in a demanding tone.
A boy inched forward from the J.S. S 3’s line. His appearance was neat and his slim figure stood tall in his school uniform.
“Yes, you. Ring the bell for the clubs once it’s 11:00 a.m.” She instructed, and he nodded, going back to join this line.
“That’s all for now, thank you.”
The head teacher was applauded as she returned to meet the other teachers. “Someone should give us a matching song.” Senior Anyim, the assembly prefect from J. S.S 3, instructed.
“Parents, listen to your children!” A boy chimed from the back row. “We are the leaders of tomorrow!” we all chorused along. “Try to pay our school fees. And give us a sound education.” The school drummers beat on the school drums with chalk-sized sticks like a slab of flesh flogging melodious tunes from the belly of the drums.
With directions from Senior Anyim, the students matched into their various classes.
On Friday, the first period on the timetable was English language. We usually do dictation in class. Once Mrs. Nnkechi came in, we brought out our books to write our dictation.
“Number 1 to 20.” She ordered. “I won’t repeat a word more than three times so, make sure you keep quiet and listen attentively.”
“Our former English teacher, Mr Kelvin, usually gives us 1 to 10, not 20,” Simon complained. And he repeats the words whenever we ask him to.
“That was your former English teacher, not me,” Miss Nnkechi pointed out. “And you’re now in J.S. S 1, not primary school! I’ll advise you to keep your head straight and learn because you are now senior students. Whether you like it or not, you need to be prepared to advance in your learning styles and abilities.”
“Number one, photosynthesis!”
“What? I’ve never heard if that word before.” A girl cried from the back.
“Photosynthesis!” she repeated.
“It starts with P and H. Miss Nnkechi said, Pho-to-syn-the-sis. Spell what you hear.”
Watching a student in front of her spelling it as fotosintesis, she got a little furious. ‘Was the word tough for them?’ Miss Nnkechi wondered and gave them the next word. “Drama.”
Aluma sat quietly, scratching her head to get the answers. Miracle and I did our best too, by paying attention.
Once we submitted, Miss Nnkechi marked and scored our notebooks.
