Me ✓

#1 - Me and A Dream

What does it mean to dream? To me, a dream was an excuse to be a god. It was my own imagination, I could build and destroy whatever I wanted without having to answer to anyone. I could fly, I could steal, I could kill, I could love, I could even marry myself for all I cared. 

Sadly, that was just what I wanted a dream to be. Most times, I dreamed about being chased by giant spiders or free falling from a cliff right into consciousness.

It was quite similar to life. It never really goes as planned, even though everyone says that your decisions will determine your future when in reality we have no idea what bag of faeces would be waiting at our front door the next morning.

Back to dreaming, as much fun as it was to dream about anything, to imagine the boy I like taking me on a movie date or winning a Nobel Peace Prize. Dreaming was dangerous. Very risky to attempt when you were in a classroom with 60 other students and an overbearing teacher. Just like right now.

My eyes were drooping and a yawn was coming up. We had 3 more minutes, just 3 minutes, 180 seconds left until I could go home. Until I could flop onto my beautiful soft bed and take a long-needed nap.

Right as my head fell onto the table, lucky for me, the bell rang and the class was over. I adjusted my uniform as I got up, massively self-conscious of my appearance. A bad habit I'd long hated.

"Kolupo, are you going home now?" I whirled around to meet with my dark-skinned best friend, Maureen Ituah. She was shorter than me and annoyingly smarter, which I admit to being jealous once or twice of.

I nodded as I shoved my last book into my black bag, swinging it over my shoulder, I smiled at Maureen. "Leggo." She gave a small smile back and copied my actions.

We both headed out of the large classroom still filled with students and headed for the Kiosk. The Kiosk was a place in the school where students got snacks during lunch, it was like the Nigerian form of a cafeteria except we didn't have a place to sit and eat, we took the food to our classes.

It was this building with four windows, occupied by four women, each selling similar and different food items. We'd line up in front of the windows or shove ourselves towards the women hoping to be answered on time. It was very rowdy during the break period, as all classes had the same break period and everyone wanted to get food before the 30-minute break was over. Now, everyone was going home, the dust was settled.

At our school, every day we had to pick up junk and garbage littered by students before leaving. It was the school's policy. A stupid yet very efficient way to get the school cleaned for free. Smart and Selfish. It took a few minutes for Maureen and me to gather dirt wrappers and paper before heading for the school gate.

After disposing of the trash at the gate, we were finally free. We walked across the massive car park lawn which was filled with cars and towards the Navy Gate. It was a lot of work getting in and out of the school and or area.

As we headed for the gate, we passed the bus stop where the "them" were hanging. I turned my head in another direction and avoided any sort of eye contact as I wasn't really their friend, but I did associate with them once In a while. They were the social (What white people called popular) people of our school. I was considered a friend to a bunch of them but I usually avoided the really bad ones, making them nothing more than acquaintances.

To be honest, I hated walking in front of them. Even though they would care less about me, I still always felt like they were all watching. But doesn't this happen to a majority of us, don't we always feel our palms sweat when we have to stand up in front of everyone or walk from one place to another when everyone else was sat down?

The bus stop was a local place for the social students (what I imagine as bad students) in my school to hang out, it was like a delinquent magnet. It was actually a yellow blob seat sorta thing. Hard to explain but it was like a giant shed with 3 walls, which were only halfway to the roof, and a few poles holding the roof up.

After that, we'd make our way through a long line of bystanders to the check-in and out point. A place where people were searched and questioned before going into navy town. The moment I passed through the checkout point, I felt relieved. My school was like a prison yard and I always made sure to savour the feeling of freedom.

"Bye Kolu!" Rainy waved at me as she got onto a bike. One of the fastest and most dangerous modes of transportation. I waved as the driver sped off, catching one last glimpse of my friend before she disappeared into the valley of cars. Today she skipped following the bus because of a doctor's appointment.

I soon found a bike myself and got on, putting my bag in-between the driver and myself. I wasn't really a fan of contact with the bike drive because it kind of grossed me out to touch a total stranger whom I was paying to take me home.

It took at least 20 minutes to get home after taking a bus from where I had dismounted from the bike. The moment I got into my house, I discarded all my school stuff into their supposed areas and hurried to my phone.

Friend Request from Kenneth Okoro.

I furrowed my brows in thought, I knew that name. It was so familiar, yet so new. Shrugging it off, I clicked accept after noticing the hundreds of mutual friends we had.

Hours later, I was ready for bed and placed my phone on my bedside table. I used it as an alarm most times. It didn't take long after I had laid down, my eyes became heavy and sleep started to whisper a lullaby in my ears. My phone beeped and seconds before I blacked out, I read what was on my phone screen. I wasn't sure if it was a part of my imagination or if I had made it up like I hoped to do in my dreams. But I do recall to have seen a text.

New Message

Hey, Remember me?