This is my first time writing here in #hivereachout, and I’m really excited to share my story with you.
Anytime I remember this experience, I feel a sense of shame and guilt. It's not like what I did was evil or something terrible, but it left a lasting impression.
I used to be a very shy girl, so shy that I couldn’t talk in class. I would even call myself timid, but that was then. I avoided anything that would draw attention to me or make people call my name in public. Whenever I heard my name or even something that sounded like my name, I’d get this sharp pain in my chest. I didn’t know why, and to be honest, I still don’t.
Going out was a whole different struggle. I couldn't look people in the eye especially teachers and boys.
There was this thing we used to do in school every Friday called "Book and Beyond." It was part of our continuous assessment, worth 20 marks, so everyone tried their best to get at least 15. You know how students are, we don’t joke with marks.
How "Book and Beyond" Worked
Each week, a teacher would assign a topic for us to study, and on Friday, we had to present it as a speech or presentation. After each presentation, the teacher would score us based on audibility, boldness, dressing, body movement, and most importantly, how well we presented.
Fridays became my worst days. But I couldn’t just skip school, I mean, what would I tell my Nigerian mom?
Whenever it was time to speak in public, my heart would literally sink into my stomach. I’d feel a sharp, painful sensation that lasted for minutes. It was unbearable. (Please tell me I’m not the only one this happens to!)
Did I mention that I’m also an overthinker? Oh heavens, I overthink a lot. I still do but now, I try to control it and not let my thoughts overwhelm me.
I had only one friend in school then - someone I knew from primary school. I only spoke to her. Talking to other people was a big challenge. I would stammer even when answering questions from classmates though I’m not a stutterer.
Then came a new student. She had the same surname as me and was from Cameroon. She was short like me, and since the short students sat at the front, we became seatmates. Slowly, we started hanging out. She was fluent in French, and our French teacher adored her. Scoring full marks in French was a piece of cake for her.
In our class, we had two French teachers one for Group A and the other for Group B. I noticed something odd: whenever the teachers wanted to punish the class, they’d ask me if I made noise. If I said no, they wouldn't flog me. I guess they knew I didn't talk in class, though I doubt they knew it was because of my shyness.
The Incident
During our exams, the day we were to write French, everyone was seated and writing. I wasn't good in French, but I knew my seatmate was. I tried calling her name to help me with a question. I hadn’t even called her twice when the French teacher from Group A called out our names and asked us to stand.
Immediately, my heart sank. I felt everyone's eyes on me, and I hated it. I stared at my shoes, unable to meet anyone's gaze. We stood for a while, then the teacher asked, “What were you two talking about?”
With a trembling voice, I said, “Nothing.” She asked again, and I repeated, “Nothing.”
Then she turned to my seatmate, who calmly said, “She was asking me the answer to number 3.”
At that moment, I wanted the ground to open and swallow me. Her words felt like daggers to my brain and heart. I was sure my classmates were thinking I was a liar. And now, the teacher probably saw me as one too. I wished I could rewind time and just tell the truth.
After what felt like forever, she asked us to sit. But I wasn’t myself anymore. My mind kept racing, my thoughts uncontrollable.
When I got home, I couldn’t shake the memory. As I walked, I replayed the incident over and over. I started avoiding the teacher and anything that would make me face her again.
Sometimes, while sweeping or washing at home, I’d pause lost in thought, wishing I could go back to that moment and say the truth. Even after I changed schools and transformed from that shy girl to a talkative “parrot,” I still couldn’t forget what happened.
The guilt has faded now, but I’ll never forget the shame, the guilt, and the betrayal I felt that day.
From my experience that very day, I learnt not to lie especially to people who has given you the benefit of doubt.
Have you been in a situation like mine before? please do let me know in the comments
Thank you so much for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed reading my story. Thanks in advance for your support and contributions 🤗
