Towards the end of our secondary school days, we sat for the compulsory exam that was supposed to be a mock exam, as other schools know it, because it was the last preparatory exam before embarking on the main exam, WAEC. It’s not like that exam was submitted to the board of education as we usually had our third-term promotional exam—no, it wasn’t to be used for that, but it was compulsory to write it.
We did the exam, and the questions were set to the standard of the exam we were preparing for.
During the weeks after the exam, while we were undergoing tireless lectures in preparation for the main exam, the Biology teacher sent the class prefect to call me.
I was surprised because I was not the type that was close to teachers—I wasn’t outspoken and I disliked the whole teacher-student relationship thing. All that came to my mind was that maybe the teacher who is my aunt in the school—and whom I’m not close to—directed the Biology teacher to meet me. Perhaps he had a message for me.
I followed Emma, our prefect, to the general staff hall, and immediately I entered, all the teachers in the hall fixed their eyes on me. I was surprised, and while I was racking my brain trying to figure out what was happening, I heard the Biology teacher, whose table was in the middle, speak:
"Yes! I said it! I said it na! It's the boy!" His voice was so loud, like someone who was confirming a win and ticking it off from a sports bet slip.
"So you're the Kingsley! But that’s not the name I knew you with," he said, and even mentioned the native name aloud—the one my aunt usually refers to me with. That name isn’t in my regular documents except on a few official ones. I felt a little shy because the name is very homely.
"Congratulations, you came out as the best Biology student from my records so far. You’ve been getting high scores in Biology, but in this recent exam, you scored the highest and beat others who were in line."
He took his time to explain all that while I stood there in shock because I felt he had made a mistake. I had never seen myself as being in range with the outspoken students such as the prefects and others. Although I always did well in exams, I never thought of competing.
Meanwhile, the school doesn’t usually recognize individual subject performances like that—the teacher just felt he should honour me to encourage us to study more.
Just when I was thinking it was all over in the staff hall after what he did, he got up and said we should follow him. We did, and he walked to our class, assembled all the arms, and announced me as the best Biology student of our session. I was surprised at whatever pushed him to do all that that day.
Maybe he was drunk—but the teacher is a decent Catholic who doesn’t take nonsense, so assuming he was drunk was out of the question.
Well, as much as I accepted the accolades and the honour, I felt I didn’t deserve it because there were many people who were better than me in the class. But it was what it was.
Thanks for reading.
This is my entry to Hivenaija prompt of the week