Little Do You Know

14• SLAY NOW, READ LATER

The next day in class, just as I was settling into my seat, The lecture hall was already buzzing with pre-class chatter when a loud voice suddenly cut through the noise.

"Bode, I swear, you no get sense!"

Heads turned immediately. In the middle of the class, Kay was standing with his hands on his waist, facing off against another guy—Bode, the self-proclaimed Chief Analyst of Everything That Doesn't Concern Him.

Bode scoffed. "Kay, you dey craze? How you go say Ronaldo no fit dribble pass Messi? Omo, I no fit argue with an unserious person abeg!"

Gasps filled the room. Someone in the back shouted, "Ahn ahn! Disrespect!"

Kay's eyes widened like Bode just insulted his ancestors. "See this mumu oh! You dey compare Messi and Ronaldo dribbling? Abeg, abeg, shift! If dribbling was everything, why your Messi no get more Ballon d'Ors than Ronaldo?"

Bode clutched his chest dramatically. "Omo! You're not serious! Messi has EIGHT Ballon d'Ors! Count am! One, two, three—"

Kay waved him off. "Shut up there! So if na by Ballon d'Or we dey rank players, that means Jorginho wey win one go collect respect pass Ronaldinho?"

The class exploded in laughter.

"Kay don drop quote!" someone shouted.

"But na true na!" another person added, fueling the fire.

Bode pointed a shaky finger at Kay. "You, you don't know ball! You just talk anyhow!"

Kay smirked and turned to the class. "Oya, make una judge this matter—who get sense between me and this Messi FC wey no sabi life?"

Before anyone could respond, a sharp clap rang out.

Gboa! Gboa!!

Silence.

All heads turned to the front, where Olamide, the class rep, stood with his hands on his hips. "If una don finish arguing about people wey no even know say una exist, can I talk?"

A few chuckles rippled through the class, but Kay and Bode still exchanged glares like two warlords refusing to back down.

Olamide sighed dramatically. "I dey pity una. Instead make una argue about how una go pass exams, na Ronaldo and Messi be una problem."

Bode hissed and sat down. Kay muttered something under his breath but also returned to his seat.

Olamide dusted his shirt like a man who had just restored order to a lawless land. Then he clapped his hands again and announced:

"Now that I have your attention... ladies and gentlemen, our department is organizing a dinner!"

And just like that, the class descended into chaos again—only this time, the argument was about food, outfits, and who was paying for what. Another day, another drama.

Olamide cleared his throat and continued. "First of all, our department is organizing a dinner! Yes, a dinner for us to celebrate our suffering before exams officially begin."

Some people clapped, others just blinked in exhaustion.

"And when exactly is this dinner?" someone asked.

"In two weeks," Ola said, grinning. "So you all better start preparing, looking for outfits, and—"

"Omo, we never even chop, na dinner dem dey talk," a guy at the back grumbled.

"Exactly," someone else agreed. "Who get money for all these things?"

Olamide sighed. "Well, it's not compulsory. But if you know you want to go, start making preparations."