Book One: Trunk & Chopbox Girls

Chapter One

From JJ's Notebook:

October

"If you hate BAGS so much, why was it your first choice school then?"

I remember the day my best friend in JSS asked me that question. That was eight months ago when we were prepping for our final exam.

"Because, Naa", I rolled my eyes as I thought of the reason why, "my mother went there. Besides I'm not going to actually go there. It is just formality for just in case I don't get into Mountain Crest which I will."

Naa smiled at the mention of our dream school. "Can you imagine JJ? Me and you in the same house; in a mixed school! We'll be free from all the immature boys here."

"I can't wait", I agreed.

I did not get into Mountain Crest International. I mean what story would there be to tell if I actually did go there?

"I promise I'll be on the road if a spot opens up there", my father tried to assure me several times on our to Cape Coast.

"JJ, look at it this way", my mother reasoned with me excitedly. "Bethel Academy for Girls is just as good a school. You know, in 1976, it was nearly privatized. It is a prestigious school."

"And it will look good to say you transferred from there to Mountain Crest", my father added.

I didn't utter a word. My mind kept racing, wondering why I was not accepted into my dream school. I was a good student and I participated in several extra-curricular activities in school. On the day that I was told that I had been placed on the waiting list unlike my best friend Naa, I went through all the brochures I had taken from their Open Day session and looked at all the places I had once imagined myself to be at. And then I realized something. All the students in the brochures, especially the girls, were so pretty and thin. I'm sure they didn't use every student but the ones on there were out of the world. Naa would fit in perfectly, I thought bitterly, because everybody loved her.

I had tried to reason with my parents concerning my waiting list status and at first my father tried to understand. BAGS reopened two weeks ago and I spent the past two weeks waiting for the call from Mountain Crest. I know they hated that the situation could go either way. I know.

But I had faith.

I still do.

I hated that I was still nervous on our way to BAGS. I thought I would be more apprehensive and unwilling to co-operate. I also thought, albeit fleetingly, that jumping out of the moving car at high speed wouldn't be a bad idea. That didn't happen and I found myself at the entrance of the 'best girls' school in Ghana'. It was a big, black wrought iron gate with gold embellishments on it. Just above it, also written in iron, was Bethel Academy for Girls. It looked like a cemetery's gate. I couldn't believe my parents were driving me to my death! The right side of the gate was open and my father passed through the gates.

My mother excitedly peered out of the window searching for something. "When I was here, there used to be an opening at the wall in the corner where we would sneak off and go to your father's school."

"Not that we are telling you to do same", my father replied hastily.

I shrugged. "Well I wouldn't be here for long anyway."

My parents are the quintessential love story. They met here in Cape Coast when my mother was a junior and my father was a senior at St. Clarence, the boys' school thirty minutes away.