A friend to remember

2: A tale of identity crisis

****

The day for the sports competition involving many schools in Lagos came, it was hosted by Bellrich Academy, one of the -if not the best- schools in Lagos and Nigeria. It was located on Victoria Island, Lagos.

Denise and Dunni had been to the island a handful of times, mostly for competition or sometimes, they would help their mother with the cleaning she does. Dunni looked around the area they were, this place would not cease to amaze her. She always wondered what it was like to be super rich, to have the money and power to be able to stay in a place as beautiful as this. It must be wonderful to stay in a place like this, their lives must be so wonderful.

"Woah!" Dunni said and a few of their school on the boss, peered up to look at the school. From the entrance of the school, it looked absolutely marvellous, something straight out of those American teen dramas for rich kids. This was so pretty. She knew her mother could not afford it if she worked for five lifetimes, but this had always been her dream school. Apart from the opportunity it would give, she would be around kids, something she so desired.

"Oga o! See fine school! I cannot believe that some people are going to this place," one of their schoolmates observed.

"It is not poor folk like you," another person, with a mocking glint. "Poor folk? As if we are not going to the same school! Abeg o, no try form fake life for here o! We all know ourselves oh!" the first girl replied.

"Anyways I was merely admiring the school, can you imagine if one of us were to attend Bellrich Academy," she said.

"Key word here is imagine," another said grimly.

"Anyways, you would think everything is all pretty and rosy with them."

"What is one even saying, we are talking about Bellrich! Bellrich! Who does not want to a school like this?" another person asked.

"Guys! Guys!" someone yelled from the front of the bus. "I think I see on that retro guy!" she said loudly.

"Really? Woah!" another girl said. The bus finally stopped and Denise sighed. She stared outside the parking lot, a pristine lawn sat next to them.

"Hello guys," the coordinator said loudly, to get the attention of the students. "We are here already, I want to tell you we are here already. Please in the name of God do not do anything that would embarrass our school today and pray to God that we win the competition. If we win we are going back home with a sum of hundred thousand naira. If that is all then, all of you should follow a straight long down the bus, are we clear?" I asked him.

They all stood up and tried to follow a single file, and walked down from the bus. They all looked in a different area, it was so clean and beautiful that their jaws collectively slacked.

"Good morning sir," a tall dark-skinned woman, with an iPad, walked toward them, she was typing furiously on that iPad.

"Good morning, I am Sheyi the coordinator." She nodded, still not looking up at them. "Follow me," she stated, turned and walked off, not waiting to see if they would follow her or not.

They did follow her and the more they walked, the more they realized that the front of the school's beauty was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the school itself. Denise focused her eyes on the woman. She was not here to admire the beauty of the school or gush over it but to play tennis and that was what she was going to do.

"Look, Denise! Look at how pretty this place is! Can you imagine that some people are going here? It would have been so nice if we could also go here too."

Denise sighed and turned to her sister, "Dunni, they pay like 5 million nairas a year, I don't think that we have that sort of money."

"I know now, but can't a girl admire the school?" Denise had no reply to this so she kept her mouth shut while she watched her sister gush with the other students about the school.