I got to school to join the assembly on Friday morning. I had already gotten my sport wear which was for the yellow house. The simple rounded-necked t-shirt and pleated miniskirt fitted me well. Miracle was in red house while Don was in the blue house. Once I joined the queue, Mrs. Igwe, the school principal, made an announcement. The staff of teachers stood in the front corridor of J. S. S 1 class, on the first block where the assembly usually holds.

Mrs. Igwe greeted us with her usual bright smile and started. “Our school got an invitation today. We will hold a debate competition with Ikwo, Ivo, and Ohaozara Community High School on the 12th of next month. Only J. S. S 1 and J. S. S 2, class A to D students, will participate in the competition. With a total of ten students from each class, I hope you work towards it. If you’re interested, report to your class monitor to report to me. The list of the participants will be printed and posted on the notice board by the end of next week, okay?”

“Okay, ma.” The students obediently chorused.

“Once it’s 11:00 a.m., Joshua Abani! Where is he? The timekeeper!” she alerted in a demanding tone.

A boy inched forward from the J.S. S 3’s line. His appearance was neat and his slim figure stood tall in his school uniform.

“Yes, you. Ring the bell for the clubs once it’s 11:00 a.m.” She instructed, and he nodded, going back to join this line.

“That’s all for now, thank you.”

The head teacher was applauded as she returned to meet the other teachers. “Someone should give us a matching song.” Senior Anyim, the assembly prefect from J. S.S 3, instructed.

“Parents, listen to your children!” A boy chimed from the back row. “We are the leaders of tomorrow!” we all chorused along. “Try to pay our school fees. And give us a sound education.” The school drummers beat on the school drums with chalk-sized sticks like a slab of flesh flogging melodious tunes from the belly of the drums.

With directions from Senior Anyim, the students matched into their various classes.

On Friday, the first period on the timetable was English language. We usually do dictation in class. Once Mrs. Nnkechi came in, we brought out our books to write our dictation.

“Number 1 to 20.” She ordered. “I won’t repeat a word more than three times so, make sure you keep quiet and listen attentively.”

“Our former English teacher, Mr Kelvin, usually gives us 1 to 10, not 20,” Simon complained. And he repeats the words whenever we ask him to.

“That was your former English teacher, not me,” Miss Nnkechi pointed out. “And you’re now in J.S. S 1, not primary school! I’ll advise you to keep your head straight and learn because you are now senior students. Whether you like it or not, you need to be prepared to advance in your learning styles and abilities.”

“Number one, photosynthesis!”

“What? I’ve never heard if that word before.” A girl cried from the back.

“Photosynthesis!” she repeated.

“It starts with P and H. Miss Nnkechi said, Pho-to-syn-the-sis. Spell what you hear.”

Watching a student in front of her spelling it as fotosintesis, she got a little furious. ‘Was the word tough for them?’ Miss Nnkechi wondered and gave them the next word. “Drama.”

Aluma sat quietly, scratching her head to get the answers. Miracle and I did our best too, by paying attention.

Once we submitted, Miss Nnkechi marked and scored our notebooks.

“Who scored the highest?” Jeremiah asked, facing the class.

“I scored 10 all over 20.” A girl with all back replied to him.

“What did you score?” A boy asked.

“I scored 19 all over 20,” Jeremiah announced with raised arms.

I turned to him and the smirk on his face grew wider. I know he was a smart kid, but what was the need for all the drama?

“Wow! Let’s see! Many students covered Jeremiah’s notebook to see the words they scored right, and those they had failed.

Noticing their diversion, Miss Nnkechi cleared her throat. Their noise didn’t make them realize until she whacked the table with her long cane. 

“Don’t you have any respect? I am still in this class!” she bolted at her students. They scattered at once and sat on their bench.

She took a piece of white chalk to write the correct words. “I’m only going to write one word!” Jeremiah bragged, bringing out his tongue in our direction.

Miracle scored 13, and I scored 12. Don scored 15. Although he was left-handed; I think Don scored the second-highest mark after Jeremiah, but he didn’t say a word.

“Let me see your work!” Jeremiah, who was peeling from desk to desk, came to our table and snatched Don’s note. “Give it back!” Don demanded. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he tried not to be aggressive.

“You still have an ugly writing, fat boy. Wow, you scored 15! Why did Miss Nnkechi give you very good and she gave me very good, too? I scored higher than Don with four marks.” Jeremiah’s smile slipped as reported to Miss Nnkechi, who was still giving the correction on the whiteboard. She turned her back to him, listening to his complaint. “I should have an excellent remark, not very good.”

“You would have gotten an excellent remark. Only if you scored 20 all over 20, but you didn’t. Do better next time, Jeremiah.”

“I’m the smartest, and would surely score all in our next dictation class.” He promised, rubbing his chin. Copy the correction from the board. Miss Nnkechi stormed at some students who were copying directly from Jeremiah’s note. Why is it so difficult to control you?

“The correction is on the board.” Miss Nnkechi pointed out at them with frustration. “Don’t copy any student’s note, even if he gets it right.” She pointed up at them. “And you, why don’t you submit your notebook after the correction? Bring it to my table for marking.” She emphasized with anger in her voice the students were always noisy and Jeremiah was such a pain in the ass for her.

All the students rushed to submit their corrections for final marking. Just then, Mrs. Emeka, our class teacher, stepped in.

“Are you through teaching them?” She asked Miss Nnkechi once she joined her.

“Almost.” She replied slightly facing the class.

“Who is the class captain?” Miss Nnechi’s eyes slightly raked to the class with a serious face.

“We don’t have one yet, but I suggest Jeremiah.” Mrs. Emeka facetiously assumed.

“Yes, he’s smart and intelligent, but he is also noisy and disobedient.”

“Jeremiah is childish and full of himself. He has been the class captain since he joined our primary section.  Making him the class captain again would be a disaster.” My class teacher’s face scrunched up as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. I like Onyebuchi David and Ude Blessing, but they aren’t so smart. I will take a close look at them for now."

Without replying, the corners of Miss Nnkechi's lips turned into a smile. It was time for the Spelling bee.

“Organize yourselves in three groups with three participants per group. Make it snappy, please!”

I wanted to join a group. When I got to a girl called Blessing Ude, I told her about joining her group.

“Well, as you can see, we are already complete!” She replied rudely.

My eyes widened in bewilderment at why she would even say that to me.

“But you only have two members, and Miss Nnkechi said three participants per group.” I reminded her.

“I would rather join than add you.”

“That’s unfair. As classmates, we should help each other! I’m good at spelling, trust me.” I painfully persuaded her.

“Don’t bother me, scholarship student! I would rather join than add a shy girl like you, who couldn’t even define family because of stage fright.”

“Why would you tell her that?” Miracle interrupted.

I gasped, trying to pull her back, but she walked to face Blessing.

“Go away and don’t contaminate me with that your albino thing! Perhaps I wasn’t talking to you,” she spat at Miracle.

Speechless, my trembling tongue glued to the roof of my mouth. ‘This girl is so rude. Does she have parents at home?’ I wondered.

“Why, Blessing? Why do you hate Miracle so much?” Okorie, a boy who was in Blessing and David’s group, intervened. “Give Miracle and the new student a chance to participate, please!”

“What if I don’t? Will you report me?” Blessing folded her arms and gave Okorie a silly face.

“Choose one of them at least. Miracle is outspoken.”

“No, I won’t! I just hate to see her face!” Amara disclosed. “It’s disgusting.”

Okorie shook his head negatively in controversy. Arguing with Blessing was useless.

“You should try to allow other students into your group. You are not the only ones here!”

“That is none of my business! You can contaminate her virus for all I care!”

“Come on, let’s go.” Miracle dragged my hand to our desk. It surprised me that she walked away and shrugged off the meanness.

Looking around, Jeremiah created a group, too. He, Aluma, and Simon Okoroafor made the group. Once the three groups were established, the Spelling Bee started. The third group got first, Jeremiah’s group took second while Blessing’s group took third. Once the announcement was made, Senior Joshua rang the bell club. Students grabbed their school bags, and I was in a press club.

In my school are the health club, drama club, Jet club, road safety club, press club, and Man-oh-war club. They assigned every student to different clubs based on their registration order. And they change it once in a session if the student wants to.

Once we got into J.S.S. 1A for the press club, Miss Nnkechi walked in and introduced herself. Previously, she worked as a journalist with a radio station in Afikpo, so she was a professional in the field.

Miss Nnkechi started by introducing to us the meaning of a press club and the benefits of being a member. Though the class was stuffy, my heart was hooked at the top of my throat. I chewed on my fingernails and even hurt myself doing it. My eyes darkened with withheld tears, and my head felt heavy. First, it saddened me that Blessing couldn’t spell most of the words I knew, and she didn’t give me a chance.

Second, Miracle’s eyes were red throughout the spelling bee. She didn’t say a word since she walked out on Blessing. How can one be so cruel? She referred to Miracle as a virus. I got lost in thought and barely wrote a thing.

Not quite long afterward, the closing bell rang. Students jumped out of the windows due to the excitement of having two free days for the weekend. “Today is Friday! No school tomorrow and next tomorrow Until Monday!”

The students chorused joyously and leaped with happiness. I grabbed my school bag and strolled back home, recounting all my experiences.

“Won’t you wait for me, Adaku?” Don called after me. He ran up to me as we walked home together.