My Life On Campus… Part 26 (A Must Read)


This
Is The Continuation Of The Story,
Read Below:-
All efforts to alter the thought that it
was Bayo
failed. I remained as stiff as a poker
on the tank
I sat on and quickly rendered a short
prayer to
God to accept my sinful soul. I had
no choice
than to appease Bayo’s angry gods
to temper
justice with mercy.
“Bayo, I know I have wronged you. Am
so sorry
please. Don’t kill me please.” I
pleaded, with no
knowledge of the person whose hand
was on my
shoulder.
The person kept mute, with his hand
still resting
on my shoulder after all the
imploration. I
composed myself and took the
courage to find
out who it was. At a snail’s pace, I
turned
around to gaze at the fellow who’s
tempering
with my security. My heart stopped
racing and
became completely relaxed when I
realized who
it was, Buhari.
“Oh my God! Buhari! You are the
one?” I asked,
still tensed. “You got me scared na.”
“Am sorry. I never meant to.” Buhari
said.
“You should have at least said
something to save
me the tension.” I grumbled with a
frown on my
face.
“I didn’t say anything because I
wondered why
you were shaking and praying silently
immediately I touched you.”
“Hmmm, yes I was praying. I am
observing a
vigil.”
“Is this where to pray? Why choose
here when
you can go to the field?” He
questioned.
I was already annoyed with his silly
questions so
I yelled, “Buhari, what’s your
business with me or
where I pray?”
“I am sorry. Why shout at me?” He
said with pity.
“I was only making a phone call when
I saw you
from afar about to fetch water and I
deemed it
fit to come say hi. Since you feel bad
with that,
good night.”
He was leaving when I hurried to him,
threw my
left hand around his neck and said,
“Buhari, am
sorry. I never meant to shout at you.
Please
pardon my attitude.”
“No problem. We are cool.”
“Sure?”
He nodded and replied, “Sure.”
“Thanks for understanding. Good
night.” I said
and smiled.
With a joyful heart, I retreated to the
tap to carry
my bucket of water, which was yet to
be filled to
the brim after all these years. I had
no more time
to waste after the ones I had wasted,
so I picked
up my bucket of water and headed
for the
bathroom. I had a cool bath, and felt
fresh like a
fish. I got to my room, bolted the
door, turned off
the light and buried myself under my
blanket.
Staying in this school isn’t safe for
me any
longer, so I decided to make my way
back home,
I called it quit. What shall it profit a
man to gain
B.Sc and forfeit his soul, I thought to
myself,
rephrasing the Bible quote.
I didn’t take the trouble of carrying
my luggage, I
left them all in my room. I got home
with a
particular frame of mind that my
mother would
sight me from afar, runs quickly to
welcome me
and give me a hug like it happened to
the
prodigal son; I wasn’t a prodigal son
though, just
running away from Bayo’s threat.
None of what I expected happened. I
got home
to meet people clustered all around
my house.
They were not just gathered but were
weeping
out their eyes. I got closer and closer
to the
main scene, I didn’t believe what my
mind was
whispering to me, so I questioned a
mourner.
“Please, are you people acting a
movie?” I
curiously asked the opposite of what
my mind
was whispering to me.
“Ha! O ti gbo ni?” The mourner asked
with more
tears dropping from her eyes, which
means, ‘Ha!
Haven’t you heard?’
I smiled and said, “I heard a rumour
that
Nollywood wants to use this house to
shoot a
movie. Is that not it?”
She gave a long hiss like a snake,
disgustingly
gazed at me like a dirty laundry and
shifted away
from me. I treated all that lightly. My
mind was
approved a ten over ten immediately I
saw Sisi
Nene weeping also. I hurriedly forged
through
the crowd and got to her in a jiffy.
“Nene, what’s happening?” I asked
almost crying.
She was crying profusely like a baby
denied
bosom milk, she was talking but her
words
weren’t audible.
“Nene, please calm down and talk to
me.”
She quickly wiped her tears,
swallowed her spit
and said, “It’s you parents.”
“Ehn Ehn, what happened to them?” I
anxiously
asked.
“It’s your parents o.” She repeated.
I jolted her and roared for an answer,
“I said
what happened to them?”
“They were both killed not quite long.”
I shouted aloud,
“JEEEESSSSSSSUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSS!!!”
The whole crowd paused their tears
and
concentrated on me, I wanted to cry
but the
tears were too thick to drop.
I asked Sisi Nene again, “Who killed
my parent?”
“I swear, we all don’t know. The only
clue we
have is with Old Soldier.”
I left the crowd with speed, running
fast to Old
Soldier’s house, which was just the
next street
to ours. Old Soldier was our landlord,
he was not
as old as he was called. I arrived and
barged into
his house like a soldier too.
“Banji, calm down!” He attacked me,
knowing
why I came.
“Sir! I need the clue. What is the
clue? Let me
see it.” I angrily requested.
“Banji, sit down.” He calmly said.
“Sir, I said I need the clue to the
death of my
parents.” I yelled.
He stood up, and angrily shouted, “I
said sit
down!”
When a soldier is angry, your
madness should
better heal up else you will live with
an eternal
scar on your cheek. I sat down
quickly, calm and
cool like a dove with no wrinkle of
anger on my
face.
“Better!” He said and walked into
another room.
Old Soldier came out and handed a
paper to me.
I skimmed through the note and I was
completely
bolted from the blue. I gazed at Old
Soldier, He
gazed back at me, He looked
elsewhere, I
returned my focus back to the
note………
THE STORY CONTINUES, WATCH OUT
FOR
PART () AND DONT FORGET TO INVITE
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