Ordinary

No Excuses!

The Boarding Master was not the only person Joe got into trouble with. Sometimes it was seniors, Prefects, and even his mates.

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Joe's toughest class in secondary school, without a doubt, was JSS1 – his first year in school. It was the only class with no juniors, the only class with five seniors, and the only class where all prospects of graduating seemed dim—graduation was the last thing Joe could think of at that stage. All these characteristics made Joe's first year in school, especially in the boarding house, terribly difficult. They (JSS1) were considered the scapegoats.

As a JSS1 student, you wouldn't want to roam around the hostels aimlessly. Having an aim was no excuse either. Seniors were always looking for someone to exploit and send on flimsy errands. So went the boarding life: you were mistreated while you were a junior, and you also hoped to mistreat the juniors when you became a senior. And so the tradition carried on for years.

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Joe was running back from school one fateful day. He had gone to school earlier for choir rehearsals. It had started drizzling by the time it was over, so he hurried to the hostels, fearing the weather might worsen if he loitered. Plus, he had some things to put in order back at the hostel.

Unbeknownst to Joe, a senior student was waiting at his block. He might not have been waiting for him per se, but he was waiting for prey—someone who would carry his bucket of water for him, even though he wasn't handicapped. And Joe happened to be the prey of interest since he was "aimlessly" running to the hostels. 

This was one of the many things that baffled Joe about the boarding system: the time a senior spent looking for someone to carry his single bucket of water was sometimes enough for him to go to the taps and back at least twice!

When Joe reached his block, the senior hollered at him, "Take that bucket," he said, pointing at a bucket of water at the tap, "to Room 2, Katsina-Ala House."

Joe's countenance immediately changed. The senior was an SSS1 student, and the SSS1 students' block was directly opposite theirs—not far enough to send someone, as far as Joe was concerned.

"Senior, I'm not feeling fine. I have a headache," Joe lied. He forgot he had been running to the hostels a moment ago.

Now, it was strictly forbidden for a junior to address a senior by name, even if the senior was just one class ahead. Juniors were taught to address them as 'senior', and if they knew a senior's name or nickname, it could only be used as a suffix to the title. Disrespect was out of the question—but on that day, Joe had no choice but to cross the line.

Carrying a bucket of water wasn't that big of a deal. But Joe didn't want to because of how the senior addressed him, and the way he called Joe made it look to him as if he had been waiting for him—that irked Joe the most. Furthermore, Joe couldn't just walk away, as that would be disrespectful, and he feared the senior might report him to the Head Boy. Joe needed an excuse, and this lie was the only one he could think of at the moment.

"Are you not the one who was just running back from school?" the senior asked, with furrowed brows, as if it were the most ridiculous thing he'd heard all day.

Joe was busted! No sick person would run the way he had been running, and the senior was quick to spot that. He must've been smart.

Now that his shell of excuses was broken, Joe had to crawl out and face the senior head-on, making it crystal clear that he wouldn't carry the bucket of water to his room— he wouldn't let the senior prey on him, at least not today!

Also, simply bending now and carrying the bucket to his room would be an act of cowardice, Joe had to finish what he started and how he started it.

Joe no longer reacted to whatever the senior was saying. He had hardened his heart like Pharaoh. When the senior realized how adamant Joe was willing to be, he turned and called one of Joe's mates and instructed him to carry the bucket of water. The latter immediately obliged, as if to say to Joe, "What's the big deal?" thus painting him blacker than he already was.

Just when Joe started to feel good about himself, thinking he had triumphed over this senior too, the senior turned to him and asked him to follow. 

Suddenly, a wave of fear washed over Joe as he reluctantly trudged behind the senior as they headed for Katsina-Ala House. Several thoughts flooded his mind as he tried to grasp what evil this senior was up to.

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JOE's POV:

It was a Friday, and as usual, the students were cleaning their rooms in preparation for Saturday's inspection—the school activity I abhorred the most.

When we arrived at the senior's room (it was still flooded with water; they had probably washed it but hadn't yet swept the water out), he presented my case to some of his mates, who were in the room at that time.

As was typical, in their fits of rage, they lamented how drastically the boarding system had deteriorated and how junior students now had the nerve to resist their seniors, pointing out that it was never so during their time as juniors.

I didn't care, as nothing they said made much sense to me. It wasn't my fault they weren't considered gods anymore. Not that they had been completely stripped of their god privileges. What more could they ask for? How ungrateful!

After much ranting, they gave me a piece of foam to mop the water in their room. I obliged this time. Just a few moments into mopping, one of their mates, who happened to be a friend of mine, walked into the room. He pleaded on my behalf, and after much hesitation, I was finally granted "bail."

I let out a sly smile as I walked out of their room and headed to mine. I was so satisfied with my performance that, to this day, I feel I was the one who won and not him.

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Joe would be seen here and there, boasting to his mates about how he defiled a senior who asked him to carry the bucket of water for him – without reason.

The following year, the senior was made a Prefect!