A Ghost Story: The Magic in Boldness
Dear Steemians!
Have you ever found yourself in a precarious situation but all it took was courage to get past the seemingly ‘big danger’? Perhaps all it had taken was a false show of courage when on the inside, you were really scared; a soft mixture of jelly and peanut butter.
I, myself have one of such stories to tell. Everything I had worked to achieve all my years in the university had been hanging on a thin thread, ready to drop and shatter. It had taken me a show of courage; you could call it bluffing, when I was actually on the inside, a bag full of nerves.
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I was headed home from the administration building of my university when I ran into a family friend, Nathan. My facial expression must have given him a hint that all was not well. His question broke the bridge that had been holding back my tears. With a shaky voice and running nose, I began narrating the incident that had led up to this moment…
It Was Just a Day like Any Other
It was my final year in the university. In the years leading up to it, I had worked my ass off to get to where I was. I was one of the top students in my class and had not a single blemish to my name; I had made a very determined and conscious effort to keep it that way.
We had written our final exams and were now working on defending our various final year projects. A deadline had been given which we all had to keep to if we were going to be in time to defend our works. By the way, the project defense was the very last step in the pursuit of our academic degree, so we were anxious. Nothing should mess it up.
Trouble Came Knocking
On the last day for submission; the deadline, I had my papers in both hard and soft copies ready to submit to the departmental secretary who we were told to submit to. Trouble may have missed finding me if I had simply submitted and left for my house but we had been told by the secretary to wait a few minutes within which she would be ready to start receiving the works.
I felt like a heavy load had been lifted off my slim shoulders since submission meant the anxiety would now cease. I had made the deadline. All that was left to do was to prepare to defend my research work; that I could handle but first, I was really tired and while waiting, decided to relax by watching a movie on my laptop. One of the few wall sockets allowed in each classroom was right next to my seat. I plugged in my laptop and phone as well.
Trouble came and she was named Febbie, my course mate. She walked up to me and we greeted as colleagues were meant to. Despite being in the same class for over three years, we were not friends. The number of persons in our class was so large; you just could not be friends with everyone even if that was your life's mission.
Febbie’s cell phone was low on battery power and according to what I had heard her telling another colleague, she needed to power it up to enable her print out her research work from it if she was to make it in time for the submission. The problem was, she had left her phone charger at home and needed one urgently.
Our colleague, Tempe, who she told her story would not give her hers because like Febbie, her phone was also low on battery power and she needed it urgently as well. I felt pity for Febbie. I checked my charging phone and although it was not yet high on battery power, I decided Febbie needed my phone charger more. I could always charge my phone when I got home. I wish I had not called her attention and given her mine, then I would not have lived in fear during the weeks that led up to our graduation. I offered Febbie my phone charger and without a second glance, returned my attention to the movie after giving a nod and a smile in acknowledgment of her expressed gratitude.
The Bane
The secretary was ready to collect our submissions; our class president came to tell us. I quickly went upstairs leaving my gadgets and a still unready Febbie behind.
On my return, Febbie was gone. There sat my laptop as I had left it and my phone right next to it. A small group of students were now in the class; waiting for a lecturer? I did not know. I could not recognize any of their faces; they must be from a junior class. My reason for coming to school had been accomplished. It was time to go home. I began packing up my stuff to leave. I went to unplug my gadgets but realized a tablet was plugged to my charger.
Could it be Febbie’s? Like, I said earlier, we were not friends so I did not know what type of phone she used. The wallpaper had not been personalized with a picture; it was a simple flowery background. I could not tell whose it was and the phone had a password too. I went around the classrooms and indeed the department itself in search of Febbie but it was clear she had left. Logically, if she had left, she could not have left her phone behind since she needed it for her submission, right?
Right, I answered and so I did perhaps the stupidest thing I had ever done. I unplugged my phone charger, packed up my stuff and leaving the tablet in nobody’s care, I went home. It had been a long day.
I was headed for where I would board one of the school buses when I saw Febbie returning. She was in a vehicle herself. It slowed when it reached me but did not stop. Febbie poked her head out the window to ask if I had seen her phone. I responded as fast as I could to a person on the move telling her I had left a tablet where we had sat and she should go check it out. I continued home.
The Fretting Begins
I did not go right home as I had planned. I stopped at a friend’s place very close to mine, kicked off my shoes and was fast asleep in seconds. My incessantly ringing phone begged to be answered and when I could no longer ignore it, I picked up my phone.
First it was another colleague telling me Febbie was frantically searching for her phone and asking if I had seen it. I replied I had left a tablet where I was seated before heading home. Febbie had not found what was clear now had been her phone when she went to look where we had sat.
Next it was our departmental building security officer calling. He wanted me in school as soon as possible. It was late evening by then and going back to school meant I would return later at night. I told the security officer and we agreed I would see him the next day. However, I could not take my mind off the incident and decided to go back to school.
On my arrival at the department, I was met with accusing looks from Febbie and some of her closer buddies. I told the security officer my side of the story and how I had left a tablet behind because I had not known whose it was. It could have belonged to any of the new faces in the class at the time I had left who, I concluded, had decided to cash in on a phone charger not in use.
As students, we did that all the time. The security insisted the wise thing to have done then was to turn in the phone at the security desk before leaving. I agreed with him but the problem was, I had not thought the phone was in danger of being stolen. We often left our phones lying around in the classrooms while we went about our businesses; it was a student’s environment afterall. Asides this, I had been really tired and I needed to rest my head, hence my fatigue may have clouded my thinking at the time.
I should tell you at this juncture that most of our university’s security officers were not professionally trained and only interrogated as they deemed fit. There were two of them, so when the first one could not get the answer he longed to hear from me, the second one took over. The second officer approached me from a personal perspective. He wanted to know where, which of the states I came from and when I told him, he quickly supplied that he was from there too. He went on to ask me to confess: an ‘honest’ advice from a brother to a sister.
I had nothing to confess. While going there, I had not expected to be seen as a suspect. I had thought I was simply coming to supply information and help in any way I could. Even though I seemed bold and undaunted, I was actually a bag of nerves. I had not been in this type of situation before and why now, so close to my graduation? I prayed that the matter would be resolved quickly so I could have my peace of mind restored.
Like an answer to my prayers, our class president who had watched from a distance decided to weigh in on the matter. With him, other colleagues joined in. They said that it was simply an oversight from my end and that knowing me as they have come to since our admission into the university about four years ago, I did not deserve to be seen as a suspect. Even though, they spoke in my favour, I was surprised that they knew me at all not to mention knowing me to the extent that they could attest to my character.
I hated dramatic scenes and had tried to evade troubles all those years. As such I daresay I never had a squabble with anyone. Febbie made me doubt that fact so much right then. She seemed bent on naming me a thief, not just with her looks but with what her version of the story implied.
According to her, I would not stop when she found me heading home despite her telling me she was searching for her phone. Suddenly, the big bag I had brought to school that day which housed my laptop made me look even more suspect. I wondered if I had unintentionally wronged Febbie previously. She seemed to have it out for me.
Our colleagues who had joined in pleaded with their opinions that she let the case go and that she just might have the phone returned to her if someone had taken it into their care. No one had. Febbie ‘agreed’ and we all left for our houses.
I arrived at my house later that night after stopping at my friend’s to pick up my bag which I had left there and to narrate the incident to him. Of course, I was told it would be fine. I did not sleep well that night and it did seem the matter had been laid to rest when I did not hear anything of it for a few days. I did not have Febbie’s number and had tried to call back some of the numbers that had plagued my phone that day but none was hers. In a few days, I began to rest easy. It was truly over.
Not So Fast…
It was a Tuesday and our project defense was to take place the next day. I was in a friend’s house again preparing and working on my presentation when I got a call from an unknown number.
It was the school’s security department. Febbie had escalated the case by taking it to them. I knew I remained innocent as I was until proven guilty but that did not stop me from worrying. A case like this would be documented and I wanted no blemish in my records. I was invited to their office and I went immediately; the sooner the case was over and done with, the better for me. Since this was on a higher level, I could at least expect to be interrogated by someone who did not make it obvious he thought I was the culprit. It was not as expected.
At some point, it began to look to me like the interrogator had a personal relationship with the plaintiff; not necessarily a romantic one since he was an elderly one but even a platonic one would be enough to affect his judgment.
Again, we were made to tell our stories and later on, write statements. Febbie had written hers before I arrived. She sat on one of the chairs opposite the presiding security officer. As we spoke, some other security officers listened.
At the end of our narration, two officers pointed out that Febbie had been careless to have forgotten her phone and went home. I thanked them silently. No one had said that all along. They also reminded her I had been doing her a favour and it was not likely that I had taken the phone.
Febbie was adamant.
According to her, the missing tablet was not hers and the owner wanted it back. I wondered in my mind why she had not told them the tablet belonged to her boyfriend like she had told our class president who had in turn told me. She said the owner wanted her to pay for the tablet. Why would her boyfriend ask her to pay for the missing tablet? I did not find it plausible that her boyfriend would do that and then I concluded her motive for pursuing the case was that she wanted money.
Another security officer whose desk was close to that of the presiding officer was on Febbie’s side. He felt it had been wicked of me to have left the phone behind knowing it could have been hers. I told him what I had told the departmental security officers; the phone could have belonged to any of the new faces present in the classroom at the time and keeping the phone in my care till I could reach Febbie could have gone south had it turned out the phone was not hers.
Another person would have reported it missing and as was evident in this case, I could not be sure to trust how the judgment would go even after returning the phone to the rightful owner much later. He insisted it had been selfish of me to have taken my own items and left the tablet behind before he went back to his work. Neither he nor the officers who had been on my side had a say in this matter. As it was, they were only poking their noses in. The final decision was the presiding officer’s to make. He made his decision.
He asked Febbie what the missing tablet was worth and she quickly supplied an answer. She must have come prepared, right?
I was told to come up with half the total sum Febbie had named in one week.
The deadline was extended to two weeks when I insisted I did not have that amount of money and could not come up with it at such short notice. It was with a much heavier heart that I left the administration building which housed the security office that afternoon. I was struggling to hold back tears, trying so much to appear unhurt. The way things work here, crying would have made me look guilty.
After narrating my plight to Nathan, he insisted that the judgment was not fair and took me to a lecturer friend of his who in turn took me to the Chief Security Officer (CSO).
The CSO claimed the decision that I pay half the said sum had come from his desk and that the only way it could be reversed was if I appealed the case by writing to the university Vice chancellor. He however went on to admonish that I pay the said sum and forget about it since appealing it would take longer and may end up delaying my graduation.
Problem was, I really did not have the said sum and could not come up with it within the timeframe given. My parents could not afford to help me either since they had a lot on their plate to worry about. I had decided earlier not to bother telling them about the case. They would only worry.
Needless to say, I could no longer prepare for my presentation after I went home. The case of the missing tablet had thrown me off balance and I was hanging in a stagnant air of worry. My mind could find no rest. I did try to read but I was not settled enough to do so; really bad timing this case.
I presented my research work as best as I could the next day. I would have travelled home to await my final results afterwards but the case kept me in school. The presiding officer had made sure to remind me that although I was soon to leave the school, I was still their student hence I could not escape the case. I was far from finding a resolution.
Family and Friends are a Blessing
Two days after my project defense, Nathan called to enquire about the state of things. Nothing had changed. It was at this point he reminded me I had a family friend who also worked in the administration building. Insisting I would not pay the required money, he advised that I go inform him about the matter and seek his advice.
This ‘family friend’ was Dr. Simpson. I had never met him since gaining admission into the university. I remembered him from my childhood, though then he was much younger and used to visit our house frequently.
He had just finished his first degree, back then. He had since moved from the state where we lived; on to much greener pastures you could say. It felt awkward that I would seek him out now because I had a problem. So against Nathan’s advice, I did not go to him.
A week was left till the deadline when the presiding officer invited me again to his office. He simply wanted to remind me I had just one week left until deadline. His keen interest in my making the payment made me suspect foul play; perhaps he was only doing his job really well. I was again fraught with a heavy heart on leaving the office. The man would still not listen to me.
I decided to go see Dr. Simpson. He seemed like my only option. First, I needed to tell my parents. It was them who would help me reach out to Dr. Simpson before I would go see him in his office.
It was my mother I called. I could not help crying out my frustration to her over the phone. I was in a dilemma I did not know how to get out of. She expressed her sympathy and asked why I had not called sooner to tell them. I had thought I could salvage the situation without involving them but it had blown wide open. She consoled me and said to hold on while she told my dad. His reaction was almost the same, only difference being that he handled it practically as any man would.
They called later to say I could go see Dr. Simpson in his office the next day. I had been invited. They assured me they would try to come up with the money just in case things did not work out. I was too close to graduating to have such an issue hanging over my head.
Those were financially tough times for them, so I did not have much hope but true enough, they sent me the money the very next day before my appointment with Dr. Simpson. They had loaned the money; my mother told me. I felt really sad that I had put them in such a situation.
I went to see Dr. Simpson two times before the deadline. He forwarded the matter but got a similar reply. I could not shake off the case because I had picked up my own items and left just the tablet behind. That made me a suspect.
It was sometime around these meetings I realized; Febbie had left my gadgets unattended too and went home without leaving them in anybody’s care!
The only difference was that mine had not been stolen but hers had been. What if mine had been stolen when she had left them and went home? Would I have aggravated the case to this point? I did not think so. I would have reported the missing items but not named or made Febbie look suspect. I knew that. I did not deserve to be put in this position where I had to run helter-skelter to find a solution.
At the second meeting, Dr. Simpson told me to call the security officer’s bluff. I was not to make any payment and I would wait until the deadline to see how things would turn out. If invited, I was to tell the security officer the truth without mincing words; I did not have such money and could not come up with it. I feared the outcome but I heed his advice.
The Deadline
The D-day came and again, I was invited. Febbie was present this time. She had not gotten a bank alert or received cash as expected. I had not come to do either.
Having found some courage, I told the security officer without mincing words that I had not been able to come up with the money and doubted I would be able to even if the deadline was extended.
He asked that I call my parents and request for money and I refused, telling him my parents did not have the money to give me either. He asked for my father’s phone number and I gave it to him. He could call if he wanted. My no-nonsense dad would no doubt have a few words to say to him.
The security officer gave up. He told me to go adding that I may be invited again on a further date. I replied that I had already stayed back in school few weeks longer than necessary because of this case and could no longer wait. I was going home and if they needed my present on a later date, I would grant it. I left his office afterwards.
I had not expected it to have been as easy as simply insisting I had no money to pay. They had had no evidence against me and I remained innocent as I was until proven guilty. They would never find any. I had only rendered help which had turned against me.
I stopped by Dr. Simpson’s office to update him and extend my gratitude. He was glad it had ended this way even if just for the moment and agreed when I told him I was leaving for home the very next day. He wished me well.
Nathan was happy to hear the news too.
I left for home the next day. I returned the loaned money to my parents but they insisted I held on to it until they were sure the matter was completely resolved. The case was as at then, one of the petitions during our morning devotions.
Two months later, I went for the mandatory school clearance that would certify me fit for graduation.
It required me to go through the various departments; those in charge would sign my clearance slip if I had no pending issues with their departments.
The fear I carried when I came to the security department turned out to have been very unnecessary. My slip was signed within seconds of extending it.
I was finally free of Febbie’s missing tablet case. I returned the money to my very happy parents. At last, I could rest easy.
Hello Steemians!
Are you still there? If you are then you should really pay attention to this.
“The most potent weapon in the hand of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed”
– Bantu Stephen Biko
“He's just a ghost story so don't let him scare you. He's not really there like he seems…”
– Don Williams
Be that as it may, showing courage, not necessarily having it (although you should try to have some) can win you some battles too.
The quotes above may in your opinion, not apply directly to my own story but I want you to take the lessons anyway.
Be wise however in picking which battles to bluff or make a false show of courage on though.
Ultimately, be courageous!
Images were obtained from pixabay
