By the time we reached 200 level, we had perfected our own rules. It was a simple rule that we didn’t really spell out to each other but knew to stick to it. When a lecturer says “Any questions?” as they’re already packing their bags, we say nothing. Even if we have questions.
It was our norm, more like a shared understanding stitched together by our years of observation. To put it rightly, I think we just valued peace, classes ending early and no one wanted any sort of attention.
Then this one girl arrived. A direct-entry student. Basically a newbie. Too fresh into our carefully rehearsed silence. She didn’t know the rules yet, I like to think she didn’t care cause she always did things like her dad owned the place.
While the lecturer stood halfway out the door, she raised her hand. “Oversabi”, we whispered to ourselves. Was she looking for popularity? Or she needed a certain kind of love from lecturers or did she want to announce herself as different? Tell me why you’d scan the room for hands up after lectures and when there’s none, you throw yourself up and ask the longest but annoying question?
That first day, when she raised her hand, the class turned toward her with long, hard, cold stares. Her question came out tangled, unsure and it barely made sense to me and everyone else obviously because the lecturer sighed, closed his notebook and walked out without answering.
For a second, there was silence. Then the class erupted with laughter. That was the punishment for breaking the norm.
My response to the freewriters daily prompt
