School Life 🏫

While reading the prompt, I had a guess at how nostalgic writing and thinking about it would make me feel, before writing I thought I had prepared and steeled myself against the nostalgia. Now as I type on my keyboard with long spaces of thought in between, I see just how much I'm moved by the mere thoughts of my highschool, a place I thought and knew I hated.

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The highschool I ended up going to wasn't my first choice, to be honest, at first I obstinately argued when my parents proposed its availability to me. I stress the word propose because with my-and so many other Nigerian parents, the children actually don't have a say when they've decided on something, and my parents had decided that their only son would school in the school that theirs elder daughter was about to finish from.
My elder sister is a genius, no doubt about that, good genes that we both share, coupled with her innate hardworking behavior. I on the other hand was average and no matter how pompous it may seem, I tried to keep it that way.

In a highschool, especially one with a hostel, the newcomers are always at the bottom of the food chain. My school has both high and junior school combined so the food chain was a rather long one.
The bullying received was hectic, the fact that I had a sister that was about leaving, a sister that wasn't generally liked, didn't really help my odds.
At my 6th and 7th grade, I was pretty sure I'd leave the school.
Classmates annoying, seniors oppressive, teachers and classes depressive, the only joy I had was their huge soccer field.

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From 8th grade, I officially became a boarder and I was introduced to a new thicker form of bullying, albeit I wasn't at the bottom of the food chain, I was the middle man for the seniors at the top.
So at times I found myself as an enforcer and an object of hate for my juniors.
The power given was addictive though, the idea of having the ability to tell someone to help you wash these clothes or sweep the hall and they not having the option of saying No was indeed addictive.
Yet, I didn't trust the juniors to be as openly obedient to bullying as I was, I found that the younger they were, the more liable to snitching they were.

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Of course bullying as a senior is bad, no doubt about it, but in that school it was taken as the natural order of things.
It was a rite of passage, a sort of character development or curriculum one gets to follow.
I read somewhere that a leader must understand the woes and be able to do the actions he commands his subordinates to do.
It was somewhat like that for as I told someone to wash my clothes and clean my room, I had also washed someone else clothes and cleaned someone elses room.
Yet these incoming juniors didn't understand or want to understand and they snitched at a heartbeat.
At that we knew the air was changing and my seatmates became quite forceful and threatening in their request.
The subtle form of bullying/character development of "help me wash" turned to the threatening tone of "wash this clothe and don't tell anybody or else".

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I hated this, it made it seem the juniors that although the seniors were the bullies, they were the ones most afraid and the ones who had a lot more to lose.
At such, I began abstinence, I began taking care of my own things and ignoring the juniors, not asking them for help unless on days of maximum laziness.
Taking note of the few most loyal ones and taking them on as special subordinates and giving them rewards like some meals from my share for their services.

It worked out well and I managed to escape and graduate the school with minimal queries about bullying.
Although I did visit the principal numerous times due to my rambunctious classπŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚
Fun timesπŸ˜‚βœ¨
Naturally, I can't say what people thought of me, in senior year, I was one of the very few hostel boys remaining, plus my height and very jovial attitude, I was quite hard to ignore.
Yet if I were to guess what my juniors thought of me, it should be benevolent, playful and lazy.
I was very playful and benevolent, although not lazy, I just didn't care enough to get up from my bed to converse and or do things πŸ˜‚.

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This is my entry to the Weekend Engagement Prompt given by @galenkp
> How were your high school years?***


All images used were taken by me


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My Instagram page.

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