IMAGE SOURCE: CHAT GPT
“Has the class been cancelled?”
“Is the prof still coming?”
Many more questions flew into his ears that Shola thought he would go deaf in the next minute. Yet he had to answer the numerous questions thrown at him.
“For God's sake, Shola! Answer us!” It was Naomi, seated in the second row, who barked. She had been shifting and hissing endlessly after Shola went to fish for the professor, who had fixed a class with them. Now, after what looked like forever, Shola was back and there was no glimpse of Professor Sylvester.
If the students could read Shola's face as he stood on the podium, they could only guess one thing: Professor Sylvester had cancelled the class.
But Shola found an appropriate tone and began his speech, adjusting the collar of his T-shirt as though he was getting set for a presentation.
“Erm, guys. There's no cause for alarm. But there is an alarm.” He paused to flash them his dentition.
At this point, his coursemates didn't find whatever he was grinning at funny. And for the first time, they regretted appointing him as their course rep.
Could Shola get a bit serious today?
Miraculously, Shola put up a serious countenance and resumed his speech.
“Something came up. Prof Sylvester has an impromptu matter to attend to.”
The class erupted in murmurs and hisses. Students stood up and began to pack their notes, not minding if their dear course rep still existed.
Shola's voice was soon overshadowed but he would not have it. He raised his voice and every living thing froze.
“I'm not done yet. I never said he cancelled the class.”
More grumbling voices took over the atmosphere.
“Prof Sylvester says he'll be here in the next thirty minutes.”
“Uhn?”
Shola could hear their chorused voices again.
“He's coming to give us a test on CHM 224, so get ready.”
The news dropped like a bomb. A test? No, Prof Sylvester would not do this. Not when CHM 224 was a hard nut to crack.
As Shola stepped down to his seat, books began to fly in every direction, the shutter sound of phone cameras echoing through the seats.
CHM 224 wasn't just any course in the department of chemistry; it was one of the most dreaded courses for the 200-level students. The thought of a test in thirty minutes was scarier than their last-minute preparation.
Twenty minutes passed, and the tension in the lecture hall had become so thick and palpable that one could feel it from the entrance. It was real; CHM 224 would go down in ten minutes. The students had never been so glued to their watches until today. Each student was scared of looking at the face of the next, as the fear on the fellow's face heightened theirs.
What if they failed? It was three minutes to time and it was all some could think of, after trying to comprehend complex concepts in vain.
Francis, the talkative, who walked with Shola, shut his book and stood up in pent-up anger. He was irritated by Shola's nonchalance. They may play together, but seriously? Was Shola playing video games on his phone?
“Guy, are you serious right now?” He asked sternly.
Shola gave him a wide smile and resumed his game.
A man dressed in a long caftan was sighted at the entrance. The uproar increased as students scouted for strategic sitting positions. Seeing the big brown envelope he held, each student could feel their heart jump out of their chest.
Shola put his phone away and straightened up, still trying to avoid Francis’ blazing stare.
If Prof Sylvester was alarmed at the students’ display, he did a bad job of trying to hide it. He saw that some seats only held plain pieces of paper. Other students were trying to scribble down something.
Prof Sylvester let out a knowing smile. His eyes found Shola who was the most relaxed in the class. But the students before him had panic written over them.
He opened the brown envelope and brought out the printed lecture notes. Whatever Shola had planned to achieve was successful.
“Students, I apologise for showing up this late...”
Curious eyes were fixed on him, perhaps the reason the class maintained calmness.
“...today, we shall be looking at the topic...” he went on, but the first few words were enough explanation to the students.
Shola had said false news! Shola had made a fool of their thirty minutes. Francis held his hands in a knuckle, ready to punch Shola in the face.
Shola flashed him a brief smile, ignoring the pairs of angry eyes staring at him. He whispered something to Francis who was quick to catch the words.
“I had to do what I did to get y'all on your toes. The noise was too much.”