In 1999 when I was entering the exams hall to write BECE, I had two things on me. Three things rather; pencil, pen and a razor blade. It was the first paper and I didn't want anything to go wrong. Pencil for shading. Pen for writing. Razorblade just in case the tip of my pencil got broken.
The first paper was English and we were supposed to write the Part One, take a break and come and write Part Two. Coming from a school that didn't speak English, obviously English was going to be a difficult subject for us.
Immediately I sat in the exams room, I looked at the faces surrounding me, just to be sure I would have someone to ask when the going gets tough.
My left was a wall so obviously no salvation was going to come from that end. On my right was Seth. A guy who joined our class in JSS 1. He came from a preparatory school and could speak impeccable English but when it came to writing it, there were always problems. I couldn't count on him either.
I looked behind and saw Peter Sagoe. Peter came to school from Akwakrom, a village close to Mankessim, Ghana. The only English word he'd ever uttered was his English name, Peter. Obviously, he counted himself lucky to be seated close to me. I was going to be his source of answers. Even me!
And then in front of me was Magdalene. We all called her "Shinton." She was asked the name given to the flesh of a goat, she didn't know. The teacher wrote it on the board for her to pronounce. She looked on the board and saw "Chevon" but the only word that came out of her mouth was "Shinton."
It became her name since that day.
These were the people I was surrounded by. When the shading papers came, the first instruction was; "Write your name in Block Letters."
“Block letters? What are block letters?”
For the next five or so minutes, I sat down scanning through my memory trying to figure out when and where "Block Letters" were taught and what it meant. I couldn't remember, so I skipped and started answering the questions.
The first part was on Comprehension, I soldiered through. The second part was on "Words Nearer in Meaning." I did guesswork. The third part was boldly labeled "CONCORD."
"Concord? Concord in the English language?" I asked myself. That's where I stopped writing the exams. I haven't written my name because I didn't know what block letters were. Here I am again battling with CONCORD.
The invigilator got to my table and saw my head lying on my table. She asked, "Have you finished?" "No" I answered. So why are you sleeping? I didn't answer that. I only stared at her face as she was staring at my papers.
"You haven't written your name, why?"
"I'll write it when I'm done."
"What if you forget? Write it and let me see."
I started; E.r.s.k…
The invigilator tapped my shoulder; “hey hey hey, block letters. Can’t you read the instruction? It says “Write your name in block letters.” I erased what I’d written and said to the woman; “w’ankyir3 hen block letters. Block letters nso yi abaadze?” Meaning: (What are block letters? We were not taught)
“Don’t you know capital letters?” She asked, almost screaming. I said in my head, “Nti capital letters kɛkɛ na ne dzin kakraka dɛm no?” Meaning: (so just capital letters having a big name like that). I wrote my name in block letters and shaded it.
She didn’t go away. She might have suspected that a boy who didn’t know what block letters were might be capable of doing stupid mistakes. She kept scanning through my paper.
“You haven’t answered any questions on CONCORD, why?”
“3rrrm, madam….3rrm, you see, I know what concord is but this concord confuses me.”
“What Concord do you know and why does this confuse you?”
“I come from Mankessim. The Concord we know is the Concord truck that brings goods to the Mankessim market on every market day.”
The invigilator took two steps backward and took a critical look at me. She asked; “What school do you attend?” I answered; “Edumadze District Assembly JSS.”
She left me, almost laughing out loud. About five minutes later, she came back with a colleague invigilator. Obviously she had told my legendary story to the colleague so they both came in with this succinct smile on their faces. The colleague invigilator asked amidst held-back-laughter; “What did you say CONCORD was?”
They were kind to me afterward. They told me what to shade and what to clean. I did.
Immediately they left, I felt a tap on my shoulder from behind. And then a voice followed; “Wɔsi block letters y abaadze?” Meaning: (What did they say ‘block letters’ were)?”
Sagoe too wanted to know.
Some months ago I met Magdalene. She has two beautiful kids. A girl and a boy. I looked at their pretty faces and asked; “I hope you kids know what the flesh of a goat is called.” She slapped my shoulders and screamed aaaaah!! We both burst out laughing.
Poor little kids. They didn’t get the joke. If only they knew what their mother called goat meat when she was a girl. But I can bet on my last coin that she too tells her kids that she was always first in class when she was a kid.
(Help a friend to put smile on his or her face)
Be happy.