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The 20.. WAEC examinations "for private candidates' results will be released on the 7th February 20.. on the WAEC portal. All you need is your result checker details at the bottom of your photocard."
I stared at my tab, reading the information posted by Wazima on her status. Then another post she made appeared: "GCE RESULTS CLEARED, THEIR FATHER," which had a sort of praying emoji at the end of the text. I kept viewing everyone's status; they were all posting about the results. Some posted memes, others posted a 'thank you God' note, and the rest just posted words that showed they were in suspense. At this moment, I was very confused. I know I tried my best in the exams, but I have this habit of 'self-doubt.'
Sighing, I grabbed my photo card and went to the WAEC portal on my tab and entered my serial number and registration number. The screen showed three dots and underneath it was loading. As I waited in anxiety, I heard an angry voice-none other than my mother. "6:30 a.m., and you're still sitting here pressing tab, Airah!"
I dropped my tab on the center table immediately and ran to my bathroom as I was already tying just my towel. Throughout my 'bath,' the only thing I could think of was that my GCE results should better be good.
After dressing up in my uniform, which was a sky-blue shirt and cobalt-blue skirt and tie, I took my tab again, standing in the middle of the living room, completely focused on the screen. There it was-my results. Whether to scream, cry, or celebrate, I didn't know. I got a B in Maths, IRS, and Economics; a C in Government, English, and Literature; and 2 As in Civic Education and French.
'What the actual fuck is this?' I thought as I took a screenshot of the results and put the tab in my school bag. "Mummy, I'm going o," I shouted, definitely not planning to tell her about this result.
"OK, dear. Greet Olivia and her parents o," she said from the room.
"Sure thing, Momma," I replied and finally stepped out of the house to Olivia's house, which was about four houses away from mine.
About two years ago, the security management of my estate decided to block the only route to school that was trekkable. Though the open one is trekkable too, it will definitely take about 20 minutes to walk. Since then, I've been following Olivia and her dad because my mom never gets ready on time. Olivia and I have been friends since primary school-really close friends. Like normal friends, we have our fights, but a particular thing she did shocked me. It's safe to say it 'broke me.' For the sake of I don't even know, we are still normal friends now, apparently. Anyways, I love her so much even though she never apologized.
"Idio, come and take your note," she said playfully as she handed me my French note in front of her dad's car.
I laughed and collected it as we both entered the car, waiting for her dad.
"Omoh, GCE results are actually out o," I said with a sigh.
"Dey play. I'm not checking my own now. Have you seen your own?" she asked.
"Yes, it was somehow, but I haven't showed my mum."
"Boss! How many As?" she giggled.
"Hehehehe!" I laughed. "I don't know."
She rolled her eyes. A few seconds later, Olivia's dad entered the car.
"Good morning, sir," I greeted.
"Eheh Airah, how are you?" he asked with a smile, and I replied. A few minutes later, we were at school-behold, Preston Field College Lagos, my worst nightmare.
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"All stand, greet!" Eunice, the class captain, said as all of them chorused, "Good morning, sir." I stood up without saying a word. Not that I hated Mr. Ovie, I just didn't have the physical and mental energy to say a word.
"Sit down, everyone," we obeyed. "How far your people's GCE results now?" he asked, making my classmates murmur. Mr. Ovie is definitely one of the youngest teachers in PFC; he is even an alumnus of this school. The obvious reason why he gives a different vibe from the rest of the teachers.
"So tell me, who got A1, who got F9?" he laughed.
"Airah, what did you get in Maths?" he asked me. Replying with a straight face, I said, "B2." The whole class, including Mr. Ovie, clapped. In the course of applauding, a chubby light-skinned girl, one of my classmates, Arinola, interrupted. "Mr. Ovie, I got A1 in Maths o. I don't know what's there in B2."
'God abeg,' I thought silently. "Did anyone ask you?" I asked angrily.
"I was talking to Mr. Ovie, not you," she responded.
"Did he ask you? This is probably the first you're passing any subject in your life. That's why you're making noise-something you didn't do with your brain." OK, this came out a bit harsh. Realizing the whole class was laughing, I kept quiet.
In shock and disappointment, Mr. Ovie said, "Airah, see me in the staff room after this class." Then he turned to the board and started writing notes.
'But did I do anything wrong?'
