I SAW MR. AKINLEYE

A couple of months back, I had just left the bank going back home, and I saw Mr. Akinleye.

I was so exited that I walked up to him. Seeing me, he recognized me; he said 'Wesley?',
I said 'yes'. He said I had changed, trying to recall how short I was way back. He asked what I was into, if I was out of school, where I was working and some other things.
He said he left Wesley immediately after I graduated, he was transferred to Government
College. We departed exchanging numbers.

Years ago, when I was in high school, I never could have imagined that there would come a time when I would be having such a mature discussion with him. He was just an individual trying to do his job. And he did one hell of a job. If we were tough, he was tougher. There were rumors going around then that he had a black belt. He was always around to cut our excesses. Don't cross him. The toughest amongst us tried, but they only proved the obvious. Don't mess with him.

We feared him.

There was a guy; I can't remember his name now, maybe shola. He was my junior (2 yrs). He just got to the hostel, but he had a problem. He couldn't get himself a locker, he came late and all lockers were occupied especially those lockers in the junior dormitory. No junior fancied the idea of having his locker close to the seniors. That meant errands.... in abundance. But there was an unoccupied locker in the senior dormitory; he had no choice but to take it.

This guy spent only one week with us, before all hell was let loose.

You know, things we blamed our seniors for as juniors were exactly the same things we did when we became seniors.

IT WAS A SUNDAY

A typical Sunday. You wake up, no juniors around, they've all vanished. Eat breakfast; make a mess, bread crumbs, and egg shells.

It's noon. You get back from the chapel after service. Into the dormitory, and it looks so untidy, the toilet looks so unwashed, the gutter, corridors dirty. Hell, these kids didn't do their morning duties in their bid to leave the hostel in time. They are in for real trouble tonight... so we thought.

Now, back to this guy, shola. He came to me later in the day. He had a serious complaint.
His money was stolen. How did that happen? Where did you keep the money? You should have been more careful. Now we have a thief here. So I called and told one or two of my mates.
'Sorry, you'll get your money back, whoever is behind this will be caught, just be patient'.

But he wasn't.

BUSTED

During the prep., the announcement summoning all SS1 and SS2 boys in the house was made. They are in for one hell of a night.

They were beaten several times all over their bodies. We had names we gave to those corporal punishments, I can't recall those names, but they were all excruciatingly painful. Some of our mates from other houses even came to lend us (us? no, them, I was just an onlooker) a hand. This went on for a long time, but the beatings continued.

I got bored, so I went for my daily dose of 'garri'. I was even trying to console the 'crying babies'. All of a sudden I felt a strong hand on my shoulders, pushing me downwards, and saying 'on your knees, now!'.

Mr. Akinleye had been around for God knows how long watching us. This was a mega-bust.

The student whose money was stolen had gone to report the incident to Mr. Akinleye earlier in the day. That was why he was in the dormitory at such an hour of the day. Not that it was strange or surprising for Mr. Akinleye to know that this was what we do. In fact we were sure he knew. But it was a different story altogether for him to witness this firsthand.

We got the beatings of our lives.

It was obvious he knew those who were actually involved directly, so there was no time for denials. He divided us into two; the actors and the onlookers.

But I said it then, and I will say it now. I see no reason why a particular guy was excluded. He did not beat anyone.... neither did I. Spirituality shouldn’t have been used as a measure. That was prejudice.

We were beaten like criminals, especially the actors.

We were moved into the quad-angle, ordered to strip, leaving only our boxers. Then he told some guys to go get buckets of water. We lay flat on the wet grass and I got six good strokes of the cane on my bare back. The guys doing the beatings, the actors, had water poured on them and received twelve strokes of the cane also on their bare backs.

I have a scar just above my left elbow. It constantly reminds me of what happened that infamous SUNDAY.

*Garri - fermented, grounded, dried, and heated cassava