I had just broken ties with my school father then, the principal's son. How I became his school son was my making.
He was very handsome and I admired him a lot. I liked him and always looked forward to seeing him and listening to him talk to us.
So one day I wrote him a letter.
Telling him how I liked him and how I wanted him to be my school father.
And to the glory of God, he accepted me as I was.
So he began the fatherly role of always eating up my provisions, this continued for a while.
One day I rebelled against him.
And I told him, not in so many words, that we were done.
I used to support my rebellion with crying, whenever I cried while doing anything, I was up to something.
Before then I was nicknamed "reporter".
When the good was going between us, no one touched me, or even abused me, because I would report to my school father.
Who wanted to get into trouble with the principal's son.
When water scarcity hit the school and we had to go outside to fetch, no senior, who stood by the dormitory entrance, scooping two bailers each of people's water touched mine.
I was covered.
But my provisions weren't.
When a particular senior heard I was no longer Tony's school son, he came at me, ridiculing me.
"If I beat you now, who will you report me to?", he always asked.
During one of those eleven nights, there was chaos in the dormitory, when the seniors finished with us, they went to flog other students, and some of them who had started with them but repeated a class revolted.
Hell was let loose.
The principal was called when the boarding master couldn't handle the situation anymore.
That night some students left the hostel and strayed into the bushes and streets.
Then the principal came.
And angrily he decreed and declared, and told us the juniors that if any senior should ever touch us, we should climb a chair and slap the senior, then run to his office for safety.
He promised he would deal with the senior.
We cheered.
But we knew that warning alone would cause us more pick pins, angle ninety, and the dreaded scorpion.
And true to it, the following weeks were hell.
I ran home.
Mum brought me back.
I had no coverage anymore.
I went back to being the endangered species, that was used for experimental purposes to the amusement of wicked senior prefects.
And it wasn't just me.
But the rebelling spirit was alive and well in me.
I was unpredictable, some of the things I did were just reactions to the actions meted towards me.
One day, that senior who took it upon himself to fast and pray that I broke up with my school father, sent me to buy something at the canteen.
When I came back, he asked that I went again.
I wasn't really happy that day, they had turned my food in the dining and I had no provision, I was just managing my life, giving time some moral support so it would run fast to evening for dinner.
I mumbled some words in protest.
He heard me and called me back.
He slapped me and instantly I began to cry
My crying must have angered him more, and he slapped me again.
He crossed the line there.
You don't beat me when I'm crying.
Before he could tell that was happening, he received the hottest slap he would ever get from a junior student, yes, I made sure my palm greeted his face well.
And immediately, the spirit of Hussein Bolt entered me, I went racing across the school compound.
"I am going to report you", I screamed as I ran off, he followed at some point, but could not catch up, because, for a moment, he stood there, probably in shock, wondering if I slapped him.
"As you are going, if you don't report me, don't come back o!", he shouted.
I was done for, I went to the class block and stayed there, watching the pathways leading up there, to make sure he doesn't creep up on me.
I didn't know what to do, I decided to wait it out till evening, maybe by then, he might have calmed down.
News had gone viral, my brothers at arms were waiting for me to celebrate me, some came looking for me to cheer me, some came and told me to go home that the senior will kill me.
I summoned the courage to go back to the dormitory and apologize to him.
When he saw me coming, he asked me if I was done reporting him.
I looked at him boldly and told him the principal was calling him.
He knew nobody had the guts to walk up to the principal, so he said that if I'm lying I would see what he would do to me.
I thought of so many things, then I reiterated, I told him that the principal said we should come together now.
I planned to run away and go straight home when we got closer to the gate.
But I don't know what happened, I walked in front with him trailing me behind, I said to myself," Qui sera sera"(whatever will be, will be).
I walked straight to the principal's office.
He wasn't moved, students used to say they have reported someone but when you get to the office door or entrance of the staff room, they will abscond, saying they were lying.
This senior, whom the gods wanted to kill by first making him mad thought I was lying, or knew rather.
He was prepared to hold me by my shorts, if I tried to run, so he came very close to me.
At this point, I was standing by the principal's door, and I thought to myself, do I run away and get beaten again?
Or should I just apologize to him there? While I was thinking I knocked on the door of the principal's office, and he asked that I come in?
The senior was shocked.
It was even more shocking to the principal when we both got into the office and I told him I came to report the senior to him, crying.
The senior stood there, looking dumb.
The principal's specs nearly fell off his face, I could tell he was holding back some good laugh, if not for anything, for the funny look on the senior's face and of course for the size of the boy who brought a grown-up person with him to report.
It took him a while to comprehend what was happening.
"Do you see how stupid you are?", the principal asked him, repositioning his glasses on his face.
" Now tell me what happened", he said looking at me as I was cleaning the tears from my eyes.
I began the whole story and roped every other bully in, starting from my first night in the dormitory when I woke up and couldn't find my bucket and bed sheet.
Until I left that office, the senior couldn't utter a word.
He was flogged as I later heard, from that day if he saw me coming, he made sure he was going.
