By Prisca
We are on our way to collect our transcripts from the HOD. Tunde and Ire are talking and laughing about some of the girls they met at the party last night.
“Did you see how she was looking at me?”
“At you? Oga no dey deceive yourself abeg.” Ire said.
“Okay. If she wasn’t looking at me, why did she give me her number before leaving?”
Ire shouts then taps Tunde on his back. “My guy! Omo how you dey do these things? Come show us the way na. PJ you dey hear wetin Tunde dey talk?”
“Are you serious right now? We are going to collect our results and you’re here talking about women. Una no dey fear?”
The two of them laugh. “What’s wrong with you? No be all of us write exam? The transcript is already in the HOD’s office. Whether you cry or laugh, the result will not change.”
They are right but, I cannot give myself the luxury of laughing at stupid things. My mum has been on my mind since yesterday when our class rep asked us to come to the faculty today for our results. How am I going to explain to the woman that I failed? Last session, I had gone home with my second-class lower result and although she was smiling, I could see the pain behind it. “Try and do better next session, okay?”
“Yes ma.”
“I’m sure you can turn that into a second class upper, then a first class. It’s something you can do now, abi?”
“Yes ma.”
“You were always in the top three in secondary school, first class shouldn’t be hard for you.”
I don’t need to see my result to know that I did way worse than I did last session. I remember my course rep begging me to submit assignments. I remember people hissing when they found out I was in their team for group projects. During exams, a lecturer almost tore my answer booklet because I was calling Tunde in the exam hall. There was this exam I almost did not write because I was thirty minutes late for the exam; and it was a compulsory course.
What am I going to tell my mum? She made me promise I was going to do better this session. Before each exam, she called to pray for me and always ended the calls with, “You are blessed, go there and kill that exam.” If only she knew that the exams killed me instead.
Tunde and Ire are walking in front of me now. They are still talking about girls from the party. How do these boys do it? I haven’t been myself for days because of my results. I couldn’t even go to the party last night or the one before it. “I don’t feel like it, you guys should go.” I said to them.
“Wetin dey do you?”
“Nothing bro, I no just wan go.”
“You need to cheer up o, you just dey frown anyhow since Monday.”
“Thank you Ire, dey go your party.”
We’re in front of the HOD’s office now and the course rep is calling names for us to collect our transcripts. My heart has never beat so fast since I ran a relay race in JSS3. Tunde has collected his. His grin is so wide as he walks out of the office. I can hear him saying “Yes!” and jumping and shaking some of the guys outside.
“PJ come and collect yours,” the course rep says.
I collect it and like I’m in a haze, I slowly walk out of the office. I sit on the benches outside and my mum’s voice keeps ringing in my head. “Make me proud, please.” “I have made so many sacrifices for you PJ, please don’t disappoint me.” I also hear my phone ringing this morning. Somehow, she knew we were collecting our transcripts today. She called nine times and I didn’t pick up or call her back.
I finally get myself to look at the paper. The words, Precious Joseph Ibekwe stare at me and even terrify me. This is my result. I look down at my CGPA and although I expected it to be bad, I didn’t expect it to be this bad- 1.9
Tunde and Ire are walking up to me and they’re both smiling. I have the urge to throw punches in their faces but I resist it. How can they be smiling at a time like this? At a time when I want to scream and wail and even roll on the floor.
“Boss, how far your result? I know say you kill am. No be you again?”
The urge to punch them has increased. Now, I even feel like breaking one or two of their bones. “Please leave me abeg.”
“Ahn ahn, boss. You wan dey form for us? You no fit oo. Abeg come wash your result for us.”
“Which result?” I want to ask but I don’t. Instead, I push them away and walk out of the faculty. I don’t even know where I am going. My phone is ringing, it’s my mum. I just keep walking and shaking my head. Omo, I don die.
