CHAPTER 8

Lagos, Nigeria

"Okay class, we are done with the rules of indices. I want you to do the whole of chapter 3b in your general mathematics textbook" Mr George, the maths teacher said picking up his markers.

The class immediately became rowdy as the man stepped out of his class, and it didn't help that it was a free period.

Despite the number of teachers who had visited their class, telling them about the benefits of free periods and how they were meant to be used to study rather than frolic, none of them paid heed.

It wasn't suprising however,  afterall it wasn't like the teachers didn't do the same in secondary school though.

The computer teacher had been there for the first and second period that morning, and had left after the class had written her test.

Since the school, for some reason known only to them, had instructed that no student should be seen around the school premises till school was over, the class was rowdier than usual.

At the time, Maliya had developed a relationship of some sort with a few of her classmates.

She wouldn't go as far as to call them friends.....that would be stretching the truth a little too far.

There was the girl who sat in front of her, named Precious.

She had resumed in the third week of school, and surprisingly was quick to catch up.

Like Maliya, she hated the idea of having a seat partner, but the class teacher had made the noisiest girl in the class who had resumed about the same time as she did her seat partner.

It was safe to say that their seat was a beacon of amusement for everyone who came in.

Unfortunately though, it was also the reason why the class could never escape being punished every day.

Precious didn't have a particular group of friends, but it didn't mean she was anti social.

She was the kind of girl who spoke with everybody, not excessively neither infrequently.

It was only after the girl had been in school for about a week that Maliya learned that her name was Precious.

"How far na babe" speak of the devil.

Precious walked into the class, her thin and long frame moving towards the front of the class with quick strides.

"Keep quiet" Precious shouted, waiting some moments for the rowdiness in the class to completely die down.

"Senior Precious told me to announce that career day is starting tomorrow".

Almost immediately, everyone starting hooting with joy, especially the boarders.

Apparently, it was tradition for the school to share snacks to the students who were present at the career day conventions.

The carrier day was actually a two-day event.

One the first day, alumni of their school who had become eminent personalities would be invited to give lectures on the fields in which they specialized.

The aim was to enable the students make the best decisions on the courses they wanted to study before it became too late to change to another class.

On the second day, the school would organize an excursion for the students based on their courses.

The science students would go to the Nigerian Navy Reference Hospital.

The engineering students to the Naval airbase.

The commercial students to any bank within the vicinity of the Local Government Area of the school.

While the arts students would stay back until the end of the term when they would visit the museum.

Shortly after the hooting died down, a girl called Mary began recounting a story of the last year career day excursion as told to her by her sister who had passed out the previous year.

What Maliya couldn't discern however was if the exaggerations she added were actually told to her by her sister, or of she was twisting the story to make it more interesting.

Either way, she was happy to have a silent class and a highly amusing story to listen to.

"Last year, the school organised the career day excursion just like they've done this year, so the science students and some of the ss3 prefects went to the navy hospital. When they got there, they grouped them into two, and since there were six prefects, three of them followed each group.

They took them to all the wards, the pharmacy, dispensary, the miocrobiology department, and after they had finished, the doctor who showed the the way asked if they would like to see the mortuary.

They had to vote for it, and in a bid to prove to the man that they were doctor-material, most of them agreed.

The man then took them to the mortuary, where one man explained all the process they carry out on the bodies to keep them fresh.

The mortuary had some compartments like drawers stacked on top of each other.

The man opened one of the drawers and there was a corpse of a pregnant woman, then he opened one on the bottom drawer that had a corpse whose head was covered.

The instructor told them that the man was a pirate who was shot in the head at sea when he and his crew looted some oil bunkers in port hacourt.

Even though the dead bodies were treated with one chemical like that f..fo..formalin or something like that, the smell of the dead bodies filled the room and someone screamed.

Last year, because of what happened they banned science students from going to the mortuary, but you know that they've changed the commandant so they might allow us to go this year.

The boy that cried should be in ss3 now, but my sister said she didn't know his name, and if you ask all those seniors now, they'll just punish you and ask you what your business is".

When the girl was done, people started laughing and making remarks about the boy.

Maliya really could care less about what happened, but her real concern was the nervousness that shot up her spine at the prospect of seeing a real dead body, and not one costumed by Nollywood.

The closest she had ever been to seeing a dead body was when watching films.

Frankly, the ghosts in Nigerian films were about as scary as a day old puppy.

After all, what kind of ghost knocked at the door of the house of the person it wanted to haunt when it could go through walls.

The Nigerian version of a ghost was a white powder-covered being who draped a white cloth around it's body.

Maliya had never really understood the reason why Mrs Adeshina, her former drama teacher considered Nigerian movies the best she had ever watched.

Then again, her appearance made it seem like she was the mascot for the association of Nollywood ghosts.

It wasn't until a deafening slap rang through the air that she was pulled out of her rather insulting thoughts.

One of her classmates---an extremely fair girl whose complexion earned her the name 'nwanyi mirinda'---was holding her cheek, but even the heat from the slap which had turned her face a deep red colour couldn't compare to the intensity of the glare that a seething Rumaysa was presently fixating on her.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, Rumaysa had obviously gifted her a very wonderful slap---which by the look of Nmesonma or 'Nwanyi Mirinda's face hurt a lot.

Maliya was saved from racking her brains about the cause of the not-so-expected violent tendency exhibited by Rumaysa in a few moments.

Sure the girl could be as annoying as the loud neighbourhood dog back in Kwara, but if she was to give an unbiased opinion about the girl, she was quite a calm person.

But that was what one would say when they hadn't gone through all she had for the past few years, especially since the situation she was unremorsefully thrown into could mostly be attributed to said person.

"You think you know everything don't you" Rumaysa shouted at the girl who we still holding her cheek.

"I swear by Allah, if you ever utter that sentence either to me or anyone else, you will find yourself six feet under...and don't think I won't find pleasure in sending you there myself" Maliya smiled inspite of herself, unsure of whether to be happy or sad that Rumaysa still had her fiery spirit.

But then, the screaming girl froze, her eyes lingering somewhere behind Maliya, and slowly everyone started looking towards the same direction.

"Please I'm looking for Maliya" an all too familiar voice uttered behind her.

She watched the girls in her class become giddy, and a few send envious glances her way.

" What do you want Zaharadeen" she sighed, still backing her brother.

Zaharadeen had arrived home yesterday, and throughout his journey home, he felt nostalgic.

An overwhelming need to see his sister consumed him,to the extent that even in school, he would spend most of his time reminiscing about past memories.

Maliya's aloof greeting when he got home however snapped Zaharadeen out of his daydreams.

Rather than avoiding Zaharadeen like she did before, Maliya would be wherever he was comfortably, albeit pretend he wasn't in the room.

Zaharadeen was still undecided whether that was a good or bad thing.

'Good' he had later decided.

He could tolerate her indifference towards him, but at least he got to spend time with her.

No matter how much his sister had changed, she still couldn't hide the way her nose twitched when she watched a sad scene, or the way she was so immersed in the plot of the movie that the character's emotions became hers.

She was a total softie when it came to movies, but the worst was when she was reading her books.

Personally, Zaharadeen hated reading novels, the only books he had tolerance to were his textbooks--and that was because it was a necessity.

Two days ago, their mother had called him to come home for a few days, since she would be travelling to one of the branches of her boutique---apparently, there was a case of mismanagement in the company.

She didn't really go into details before hanging up, but he rushed home the next day.

His mother left about an hour later than Maliya that morning, but not before asking him to go to Maliya's school to hand over a document to the commandant.

Reluctantly he agreed, a little voice in his head protesting at the thought.

His heart skipped the minute he reached the doorway of the class, partly because he was afraid his sister would deny knowing him.

Afterall, the new Maliya was as unpredictable as the weather.

The rebellious part of his brain that was always consumed by thoughts he would rather not visit had jumped into awareness when he witnessed two girls fighting.

Her.

A brief moment passed when he caught her eyes, and it was as if everything stopped...he could feel his heart clench repeatedly and his throat clog up with a sound.

....a name..

But he forced himself, dragging his eyes away to a petite girl who stood a few metres in front of him, it made him feel kind of uneasy to be looked at the way she did.

But he forced a half smile on his face, all to aware of the gaze that lingered on his face.

"Please I'm looking for Maliya" he addressed the girl, watching as she shyly fiddled with the sleeve of her uniform.

"What do you want Zaharadeen?"

His response however, was halted by an overly familiar face.

In a whisper-like voice, he uttered a name which was so light on his tongue, probably because the organ had been so accustomed to calling the name.

He watched as his best friend's eyes lingered on his, watched as the guy he once knew like the back of his palm regard him with a gaze akin to the one his sister had become accustomed to.

"Rayyan"