Ibinu

Respite.

"Lola. Lola, wake up." A voice called out, it sounded distorted as if it was passing through water. When I heard the voice, I struggled to extricate myself from the scene I was witnessing like a free diver going up for air but it proved futile.

'Fine girl. Come he-' No, stop it. I didn't want to see this. I tried to turn my head away, my chair making a little screech from the force of my motion.

As I felt someone pinch my waist, I recoiled and shifted away. Before I could figure out where the sensation came from, my attention was drawn away by the scene playing out in front of me.

My muscles tensed up in preparation for my final struggle. I had witnessed this scene so many times that I could predict what would come next even if I was blindfolded.

'Shhhhh. Relax, I'll make sure yo-' I said NO!

"Nmm." I shifted on my chair, my head rolling from side to side, my unease tangible.

"Wake up Lola." A leg stretched out to kick my chair. "Lola wake up now!" The voice commanded magisterially.

I lifted my head up with a start. I was disoriented for a few seconds before the dream started fading away, and I was able to orient myself in the now.

My vision swam before focusing. I looked straight at the whiteboard dazedly, then turned to look at the flat-screen TV beside it; it was off, a red light shining underneath it; before I swerved my head to the left to look at the teacher's desk.

It was empty, thank God.

This was the first time the nightmare had occurred in public and in the afternoon for that matter.

Having recognised the voice that had saved me from embarrassing myself in public, I looked back at Amandi and gave him a grateful look. He must have seen the state I was in towards the end of my nap and put two and two together.

"Yoruba class is finally over. You can arise from your slumber, my Queen." He explained and gave me a shaky smile. I was about to complain about the stupid dream to get my mind off it when I noticed that Amandi kept looking sideways.

I wondered why he was being weird then I followed his line of vision and noticed that Dotun was looking at us. Immediately understanding, I muttered a thank you to him underneath my breath.

"At ease my knight." I patted his shoulder then asked rhetorically in a spoiled tone, "Who was the witch that decided to torture us with double-period Yoruba? Did they think my ears wouldn't have bled enough from a period's worth of torture?"

He laughed knowing full well who I was referring to. There was only one person in charge of the SS3 timetable, Miss Sorunke, that crabby uptight authoritarian.

It was like she had thirty hours in a day instead of the usual twenty-four, she was always on my case whenever anything went wrong in the school.

If the prefect on duty didn't lead the assembly well on french day, shout at the head girl, it was her fault that he was a cretin and couldn't recite Notre Père even though he had been hearing it once a week, every week for the past six years.

If the other prefects didn't do their duties, shout at her some more, she should have six pairs of eyes and bats ears to find out about any dereliction of duties immediately they happened.

Girls hanging around the boys' prep hall? Fret not, just blow your fuse and annihilate the head girl. There was no way the students could have disobeyed her direct order, after all, they were all mindless robots, programmed to do her bidding.

Dotun quickly got distracted when he noticed that we weren't talking about anything important. He leaned back in his seat beside Amandi and continued reading his novel.