Recently, I was watching a movie, it was one of those kinds of criminal, mafia genres where everyone including those in government, police force, etc. belongs or is allegiant to one or more gangs. In a scene, an older, experienced man was advising a young chap telling him that "next time, if you ain鈥檛 caught, don鈥檛 hang around, run!"
This brought me back to a time when I was in secondary school in the seniors' class. That time was when the act of slim-fitting trousers was getting popular among students. This was what was called pencil trousers. School uniforms were getting tighter and tighter. Well, as someone who does not want to be left out, I decided to join the gang because my other guys have done justice to theirs. And of course, I earned the respect and honour of doing that too. In fact, I felt on top of the world.
On the assembly ground one day, the proprietor who doubles as the principal of the school who we all know as a disciplined man came to speak to us. After dishing out some regular news, there came the bombshell. He said he has seen some male students including the prefects who have slimmed down their trousers. And he wants them fished out. My heart skipped.
Now, he instructed that the school prefects be the ones to fish the others out. Oh no! This is like a criminal fishing a criminal out, they will do the work with utmost zeal and cruelty. 馃檰鈥嶁檪'
The search went on and I was already thinking about how I was going to justify myself. Because I knew mine was not that obvious because I knew if it were, my parents could resort to sowing other baggy trousers for me. Soon, I heard the drums which signified that we were to march into our classes. Oh, I felt relieved.
When I got to the class, I saw that most of my guys were not there yet which means they defaulted. But silly me, left the class and went out back to the assembled ground. To do what, you say? To mock them and celebrate my victory which turned out short-lived. I hid behind a plywood barricade and was dancing mockingly to my guys for about a minute or so. Then, out of the blues, one of the most fearsome prefects appeared from the group of defaulters and beckoned me to come. I was trying to argue that I was not part of them but it fell on deaf ears. Man has become a part of those he made jest of 馃槴馃槶. I could not cry, you know, you are around your gang so you gotta put on an undisturbed face. I forced some smile out of my face but they seem like a dark cloud of tears waiting to burst.
I knew we were getting flogged. But that was normal. What was painful was that I could not place a better reason why I came out when I escaped. Long story short, we got strokes of cane which were bad places. We were flogged on the back of our legs. Damn! That was the first time I saw the principal do that. It was more painful than heartbreak, I believe. More painful because the stupid me caused it. I could feel an ocean of tears inside me already. I was crying wailing but nobody could see it.
Now, I understood what that older guy was saying, next time when I was lucky like that, I am never going to be seen around there till everything goes down. Although that does not work for spies in the movies, you know.
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