Not This Time, Love Pt 21

 

He came running toward me, dripping with sweat. His shirt was half–tucked, his face unshaven, and his whole appearance screamed chaos.

“Mike? Is that you? How did you even get into the school? I thought you’d been expelled. What are you doing here?” I asked, confused.

“I came to visit some of my friends—of course, that includes you. I hope you’re happy to see me,” he said, almost proudly.

Happy? Who the hell did he think he was? This was the same guy who dragged me into his rape case, and now he had the nerve to call me his friend? Worse still, he was expecting me to be glad about it. This guy must be losing his mind. And to top it all, he even looked like someone who had completely lost it.

Before I could even respond, two school security men appeared and grabbed him. He begged them to let him stay, but they ignored his pleas. As they dragged him away, he screamed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to draw a small crowd of curious students.

I overheard one of them whisper that Mike was wanted by the police.

Wanted? For the same rape case the court dismissed as a “foolish case”? Or had he committed another crime? My chest tightened. What if he dragged me into something else?

Rumours started flying. Some said Mike had impregnated the girl he had been with in the classroom. Others claimed he was caught smoking Indian hemp in a ghetto, but somehow managed to escape when he was arrested. I had no idea what was true or false, so I pushed the gossip aside. The bell rang for “break over,” snapping me back into reality. I dashed to class.

I didn’t get the chance to see Priscy during second break, so I promised myself I’d find her right after closing. But another idea came to me—what if I sent the letter to her through the senior housemaster’s office? Maybe I could deliver it personally. But no—that was a terrible idea. She’d immediately know it came from me.

The thought of handing her the letter consumed me until the final bell rang. I rushed straight to her class, bag slung over my shoulder. She was there—but not alone. A few students were seated, and a teacher was at the board. Extra classes.

My heart sank. Still, I waited outside her classroom, hoping they’d finish soon. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. By the thirtieth minute, it was clear the lesson was far from over. Disappointed, I decided to drop my bag at the dormitory and come back.

Love makes you do insane things. Things you’d swear you’d never do—until you catch yourself doing them. That was me right then. I didn’t care how drained I felt; all I cared about was my “Priceless” Priscy.

But fate had other plans. When I reached the dormitory, Jake was already sitting on my bed, waiting for me. I thought of turning back, but our eyes met before I could escape.

“Hey KD, where have you been? I’ve been waiting here so long,” he said, as though he had the right to monitor my movements.

“I stayed back in class to finish an assignment,” I lied.

“Oh, okay. I hope you’re ready for Bible studies. You look tired, but I want you to lead today’s session,” Jake added, almost like it was an order.

I wanted to refuse. The last thing I needed was him thinking I only joined the prayer group because of Priscy. So I said, “I asked Priscy to wait for me after her extra classes, so I want to see her now. Make sure you read the Bible quotations well.”

And with that, I left the dormitory and headed back toward Priscy.

Not This Time, Love Pt 20

“Who is Priscy?” I asked Jake.

“Oh, the girl who came to us this morning while we were chatting. That’s her over there. Let me call her and do a proper introduction.”

I didn’t like the idea of him calling her, but before I could protest, he had already done it.

“KD, meet Priscy, our prayer director. Priscy, this is KD, our new member.”

I shook her hand—and refused to let go. Her sugar-candy lips said, “Hello,” and I muttered, “Hi.” I stared straight into her bright eyes. And yes, my gaze caught those pencil-thin eyebrows. I was mesmerised. Her looks could drive any sane guy into a world of perpetual fantasy.

Jake pried her hand out of my grip and told me to go back to class.

What impudence! If not for love, would I even be here, letting him order me about? He should wait until I reveal my real character. For the sake of love, I would remain calm. For the sake of love, I would play the fool. For the sake of love, I would be his slave. But when I finally win Priscy’s heart, then Jake will know who the real boss is.

And the most annoying part? He had the guts to question me—asking whether I had come to the praying ground because of Priscy. Who does he think he is? A prophet? A seer? A sorcerer? Well, we’ll see.

Then I remembered the letter—the love letter I had written for my crush, Priscy. Oh, you thought I’d forgotten about it? Not at all. That plan was still very much alive.

When I got to class, I could suddenly understand everything the teacher said. Priscy’s handshake was working wonders. If a simple handshake could make me grasp every detail, what would a hug or a kiss do? I imagined how a kiss from her would be. Would it be sweeter than Lucy’s? And could I even win her heart? A prayer director? If I didn’t play my cards well, she might end up pinning me down and preaching to me instead. I needed to convince her I was serious about my Christian life.

During the second break, I went to the senior housemaster’s office to execute my plan.

“I hope you’re not coming here to report someone?” he asked as soon as he saw me.

“No, sir. I’m here for my letter, please,” I answered.

“There are three boxes on the table over there,” he said. “Look through them to find yours. If you find it, write your name, date, and class in the notebook on the table.”

If I were truly coming for a letter, I wouldn’t have the patience to go through that pile. I took one of the boxes and started rifling through it, all the while spying on the housemaster to see if he was watching. Luckily, he was busy writing. I slipped my letter out of my back pocket and added it to the pile.

I stood there for a few minutes, then told him I couldn’t find my letter.

“But are you sure your name was mentioned at the assembly hall?” he asked.

“I didn’t hear my name,” I said, “but one of my friends told me the prefect mentioned it the other day.”

I acted disappointed, but deep inside I was thrilled. The letter was in. All I had to do now was wait for Priscy’s name to be called at the assembly hall. I couldn’t wait to see her “holy” face after she had received and read it.

I was confident that, now that I’d been introduced as a member of the prayer group, it would give me the perfect chance to get close to her. The only person who could pose a threat was Jake. I needed a plan—a plan that would make him believe in me and never suspect that I had joined the prayer group because of Priscy.

I decided to pay Priscy a surprise visit in her class. But on my way, I heard someone call my name.

I turned. It was Mike—the rapist.

Not This Time, Love Pt 19

All the thirty minutes I spent at the assembly hall were used to search for the nameless post office girl. It was a herculean task. How do you scan through over a thousand faces in such a short time? I couldn’t keep the letter on me much longer, so I decided to go back to her class and check if she was there.

On my way, I met Jake. He asked why I had stopped attending the prayer meetings. I didn’t have a solid excuse, so I just promised him I’d come that evening. The truth? I had lost interest. I didn’t want them predicting the next danger that would supposedly come my way. As I stood there talking with Jake, I suddenly saw her. The nameless post office girl. She was walking briskly—clearly late that morning.

As soon as I spotted her, I lost focus. Jake’s words faded into background noise. My heart started hammering. She came closer and then, unbelievably, turned in our direction. Was she really walking toward me? I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even given her the letter yet. I hadn’t proposed. I hadn’t confessed my undying love. Could she be coming to propose to me? Oh, no. That was impossible.

She smiled now, flashing a breathtaking set of teeth. But the shock came when I realized her smile wasn’t meant for me. It was Jake. Yes, Jake. She walked up and had a hearty chat with him while I stood by like an invisible bystander. The only “joy” I got from her that morning was a half-hearted “hi.”

I waited for their conversation to end, but before I could get a chance, the master on duty appeared, and we all scattered to our classes. Maths was first that morning, but I couldn’t concentrate. Numbers danced on the board, yet all I could picture was the two of them smiling and chatting. How long had they known each other? Was she Jake’s girlfriend? Or just a friend? I needed answers.

By first break, I had a plan. I would corner Jake and get the truth out of him—and hopefully her name too. As a backup, I also decided to sneak my letter into the pile of correspondence at the senior housemaster’s office. That way, I could be sure it would reach her.

When break came, I hurried to the dining hall, scanning for Jake. His seat was empty. I kept glancing over, but he never showed. Eventually, I asked one of his table members, who told me Jake was fasting that day. Fasting? Where would “Pastor” Jake be then? His class? Or the “praying ground”?

After dining, I rushed to his class—no Jake. So I headed straight to the prayer ground. And there he was, on his knees, praying. But he wasn’t alone. My crush was there too. Yes, the nameless post office girl, kneeling right beside him. They weren’t the only ones—three other students were also deep in prayer.

I didn’t know whether to join or stand aside. In the end, I just waited. It was at that moment I realized: if I wanted a chance at winning her heart, I had to join this prayer group. I had to learn the Bible—by fair means or foul. That would bring me closer to her.

When the prayer ended, I approached Jake. But before I could speak, he started first.

“Hey KD, I’m surprised to see you here. I hope you’re not here because of Priscy?”

Priscy. So that was her name. Priscy.

Not This Time, Love Pt 18

When I finished the headmaster’s office, an idea hit me like a brick: find someone I could love here and not starve waiting for Lucy. Have you ever been in a crowd and felt alone? Have you loved someone so much you thought you’d gone mad? That was me. I loved Lucy, but the nameless post office girl was stealing my breath. She filled my thoughts, body, and spirit. The fire in my chest burned hotter by the hour. How long could I keep fasting for a love that was thousands of miles away? I had to move on. I had to pursue the nameless post office girl. I had to win her heart.

I thought up a plan—one that would let me chase this new crush without letting Lucy know. Unfair? Maybe. But you don’t put all your eggs in one basket when the stakes are this high. I decided to get closer to the nameless post office girl by writing her a letter. I would be smart about it.

One Sunday afternoon, the visiting day when I knew my mum would not come, I sat alone in a classroom with a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote fast.

Hi sweetie,

I have admired you from afar for so long. I tried to suppress my feelings, but I have given up. Every time I see you I am mesmerized. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you by the roadside selling with your grandmother. I thought I had lost you, yet you kept appearing in my dreams. When I came to school and saw you here, I knew destiny had brought us together. Sweetie, can you do me a favour? Please don’t look for another lover. You have already found one. Take care of yourself.

Yours truly,

Secret Admirer

I finished the letter quickly because I wanted to hide it in my chop box before anyone could find it. Then came the problem: how to get it to her. Walk up and hand it to her? No. She would know it was me, and that would ruin the suspense. Slip it under her desk? Risky—someone else might find it first. I didn’t want to involve a third party. I wanted the whole thing to be secret.

When Monday came I still wasn’t sure which move was smartest, but slipping the note under her desk looked better than the rest. So I planned to get to her classroom early and leave it there. I arrived and found the room empty, the desks in disarray. That made the idea too risky, so I slipped the letter back into my pocket and walked to the assembly hall for morning assembly.

Not This Time, Love Pt 17

On my way to the classroom, I saw the nameless post office girl coming out of her class. She looked stunning — so stunning I couldn’t just glance once and walk away. My eyes followed her until she got closer. I wanted to say something, but another voice in my head warned me.

What if the Senior Housemaster sees me talking to her? What if that spy is still monitoring my movements?

The questions chased each other in my mind as she passed. This time, she spoke first.

“Hi,” she said softly, and kept walking.

I froze. I didn’t even respond. The right reply came to me only after she had gone. I decided to wait for her return so I could redeem myself.

As I stood there, my mind drifted back to the morning’s chaos — my missing letters, the Senior Housemaster’s “drilling.” Was I just adding insult to injury by standing outside, waiting for the nameless post office girl?

Our elders say, “One does not have to swallow his cough for fear of disturbing others.” How long would I keep suppressing my feelings because I was in school, or because someone had dragged me into a rape case? I thought, I have to win her heart before anyone else does.

I saw her returning. This time I couldn’t even look her way. The closer she got, the more tense I became. My composure crumbled. I couldn’t imagine myself actually talking to her. So I did the only thing my nerves allowed. I… I… I ran to my class.

Oh, what a coward.

As soon as I sat down, the bell rang for break. I decided to go to the dining hall for breakfast. On my way, the Senior Housemaster stopped me.

“Come and see me after break,” he said.

Oh, not again, I muttered to myself. What now?

I couldn’t finish my cup of Hausa kooko. Anxiety robbed me of my appetite. When dining was over, I went straight to his office. Break wasn’t even done, but my curiosity burned hotter than my fear.

He was having his breakfast when I entered. I almost stepped back out, but he told me to sit. Watching him eat made me uncomfortable, so I let my eyes wander to the framed photos on the wall — snapshots of school activities neatly displayed.

When he finished eating, he finally spoke. And to my surprise, it was good news.

According to the disciplinary committee, I was not part of Mike’s case with the girl. They had also confirmed I wasn’t in the occult group. Lastly, they advised me to be careful with the friends I chose on campus.

Relief washed over me. I got up to leave, but he asked me to wait. He stepped out briefly, then returned with a bowl of banku and okro stew.

“Go to the dining hall and enjoy this meal,” he said. “My wife prepared it specially for you. Don’t forget to wash the bowl and return it. Ermm… one last thing: be on your best behavior, because the behavioure your case comes to my office, you won’t escape with another bowl of banku and okro stew.”

I laughed out loud and left his office.

While enjoying the food at the dining hall, one of my roommates came over and confessed. He admitted he had taken my letters at dawn, but while reading my reply to Lucy on his bed, one of the seniors had seized it. He hadn’t wanted to hand it over, but the senior threatened to punish him.

I didn’t know why he was telling me this. Was it because he wanted some of my food? I gave him the rest anyway — I was full.

When I returned the bowl and headed back to class, I saw the nameless post office girl coming out of my classroom. Could it be that she had come to look for me? Or had she found a friend in my class? Or maybe she was struggling with Science and was moving to my class?

Not This Time, Love Pt 16

The Senior Housemaster held up the two letters and stared at me. “KD, do you have any explanation to give?”

My stomach churned. How had my letters ended up on his table? He didn’t even live on campus. It had to be one of my roommates. He leaned back in his chair, waiting. I couldn’t speak. Shock pinned my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

When my silence dragged on, he began to speak.

“So the news is true? You’re a member of Mike’s occult group—the one that uses spells on girls?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hand for me to keep quiet.

“Mike told the disciplinary committee,” he went on, “that you planned with him to sleep with that girl. According to him, you went first. When you finished, you left the room so he could also have his turn. During the act, the girl fainted. He says he escaped through the window, leaving her behind.”

My jaw dropped so wide it could have swallowed three cows. Mike had dragged me into his filth. Me—who didn’t even know an occult group existed on campus, let alone joined one. And me—who had barely spent two minutes in the room with him and that girl. Sweat broke out across my forehead even though the weather was cool.

The Senior Housemaster paused, then continued, “When Mike told us, I didn’t believe him. So I tasked one of the students to spy on your movements. This morning he brought these two letters. I didn’t believe you wrote them, so I went to your exercise book to compare the handwriting. They’re almost the same. KD, I’m tempted to believe you’re somehow connected to Mike’s case, but I can’t point to exactly where. I want you to be honest with me—brutally honest. Tell me the whole truth. Because I still feel you’re innocent.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer. This was it. Time to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I slumped into one of the chairs and began to cry. The weight of the accusations felt heavier than my chest could hold. The Senior Housemaster said nothing. He just watched me, letting me cry myself out. But when the tears dried, the problem was still there.

I had to speak. The final verdict would be my word against Mike’s. Every time I opened my mouth, fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Hey, gentleman,” he snapped at last, “I can’t spend the whole day with you here. If you can’t speak for yourself, I’ll take what Mike said straight to the Headmaster, and you’ll face the consequences. So talk—and stop behaving like a kid in a diaper.”

Something inside me hardened. I wiped my face and spoke. This time, no tears. I told him everything. From my JSS days when I met Lucy and fell in love with her, to coming to this school and developing a harmless crush on the nameless post office girl.

When I finished, he nodded slowly, but his face gave nothing away. Not a flicker. All the while I’d been talking, he’d been writing furiously, as if I was giving him lecture notes.

When he was done, he set his pen down, looked at me, and advised me quietly for a few minutes. Then he told me to return to class. I thanked him and stepped out, my mind spinning.

Just a few steps from his office, I heard him call my name. I turned back. He held out the two letters. I took them. Could this be a sign I wouldn’t be punished? I walked away silently, praying under my breath, waiting for whatever would come next.

Not This Time, Love Pt 15

 

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I sat on my bed, took out a sheet of paper, and began to write. Every word poured straight from my heart. I told Lucy how much I loved her. I wrote about the past—our struggles, my mistakes—and how I’d decided to wait for her, and her alone. When I finished, I folded the letter carefully and slipped it under my pillow. Tonight, I wanted nothing more than a sound sleep and maybe a sweet dream of Lucy and me together again.

Lying there, I let my mind drift. I thought about how hard I had fought to win Lucy’s heart, how our first kiss felt, and how her mother had sent boys after me like some scene from an action movie. I remembered the day I got her letter stravelling was traveling abroad, and how I had sat in the street crying like a baby, not even caring that a car could crush me. I remembered swearing never to give my heart to any girl but Lucy.

And then the embarrassing memory slipped in—my first wet dream, three days after Lucy left for London. I’d woken up thinking I’d wet the bed. My youth leader had always said such things were caused by evil spirits, so I ran to him for “special prayers.” It was only later that I read it was part of growing up. I smiled at the memory, then slowly drifted off to sleep.

Morning came. The first thing I did was check under my pillow for the letter I’d written the night before. It was gone. My heart skipped. I flipped through every book on my bed page by page. Nothing. I dropped to my knees, checked under the bed. Still nothing. Panic bubbled up in my chest. Who could have taken it?

I opened my bag to at least hold Lucy’s letter for comfort—but that was gone too. My heart stopped. Someone was clearly on a mission to hurt me.

That whole morning, I was restless. My mind ran in circles. What if those letters were in the wrong hands? Should I report it? Pretend nothing happened? Write another? But even if I did, how would I get Lucy’s address again? The questions kept piling like a storm inside my head.

When I finally got to class, before lessons even began, I overheard two students talking about Mike. They stopped as soon as I entered. Others were whispering too. I wanted to ask, but I kept quiet. If it was about mewere’d find out soon enough.

A few minutes into the lesson, the Senior Housemaster entered. In his left hand were two canes. My stomach twisted. What had I done to deserve this summons? Was it Mike? My missing letters? Something worse? Could this be the danger Jake’s prayer group had “revealed” to me? I remembered I hadn’t even read my Bible or prayed that morning because I’d been searching for the letters.

But it was too late to pray now. I followed him to his office. As soon as we entered, he reached into a file on his desk and pulled out two sheets of paper. My heart nearly stopped—they looked exactly like my missing letters.