This is part of My Boarding School Series. Throughout this series, I will refer to Command Secondary school as CSSL.
During this period, I was still basking in the sudden fame of my playing a major role in nabbing a thief Caught Pants Down. It was taking ages for CSSL to publish their admission list and while we were waiting, my parents suggested decided that I would try another secondary school around our place of residence so that regardless of what CSSL did, I would be in secondary school that year.
I was everyone’s dark-skinned, brilliant, chubby cheeked, top 2 in class, best in English language, beautiful, always taking the lead role in school drama and choreography but not cultural dance (Afusat had that spot on lock-down and boy, was she phenomenal).I had such beautiful natural black hair, kept my nails(Surprisingly, as an adult, I can barely keep my nails because I keep biting them off except there is an acrylic overlay, weird.) and I remember my mum once bought me brown nail polish that I could only use on my toe nails because my socks would cover it from teachers looking for who to beat senseless. I would regularly take off my socks and just steal glances at my toe nails #vain. I was happy and loved by all and sundry. I DIGRESS.
So I went for this other school’s entry exam and I aced it. Thankfully, before I resumed, the admission list for CSSL was released and I got an admission. I was so elated at the idea of having provisions like my siblings and getting two big pieces of meat preceding when I resumed for any term. My mum started buying provisions, toiletries, underwear popularly known as simi pronounced shhh-me, foot wears etc. She was a pro in shopping for school, she had done it for my three siblings repeatedly. The school would provide text and note books, uniform, day wear, Sunday wear and sportswear. I was assigned to Tiger house (Yellow).
On a cool Saturday evening, at the age of nine, my parents drove me to CSSL with my metal black box that had spots of red and my belongings with my name written on all of them with Kandahar (a black permanent marker). When I arrived at the school, I saw some seniors also wearing tiger house day wear and my mum stopped them to ask questions. They were like; Is she entering SS1, and my mum said No, JSS1 and they all chorused; she has to cut her hair o, you didn’t know? PAUSE…..I died inside, NOOOOO, Why would I cut my jet-black 4b long hair. No way.
We drove back home and I was in despair throughout the ride. Thankfully, I had admission in another school that didn’t require junior students cutting their hair but I would not have provisions #dilemma. I consulted my brother and he advised me to go to CSSL. You know the sort of awe and admiration a last child has for the first child? Whatever my brother said was final. I went to the barber’s shop and had a BIG Chop, I didn’t even cry.
I finally resumed CSSL with so much excitement for what the future held……. If only I knew the roller-coaster ride I was in for.