"I heard the school is down the road; should we walk or take a cab?" my mother asked, turning to look at my face, which was scrunched up as I squinted my eyes to adjust to the sunlight. Yes, my eyesight, although perfect, was pretty much fucked up when light was involved. You might think I'm a vampire or something, not like vampires are real, right?
"Let's walk. I don't think we can get a cab," I said as I adjusted my backpack.
"Okay. I heard some of your friends from church are already here," Mother asked with a smile.
"Yes. King and Stanislaus. Although I wished for St. James, anything can happen." I answered.
"Everything happens for a reason, Kwabena," Mother said as we walked down the road, and man, it was long. I almost thought that we were lost if it weren't for the other people walking down the same long, curved road.
Just what kind of school was I attending?
Everything had happened rather fast, I must say. We finished B.E.C.E. in June or so; I don't really recall, and had to wait for the examiners, or whatever they call themselves, to mark the shit we wrote, and it took a pretty long time, to be honest.
During that time, I had finally started the family "trade" of music. Gramps and Mother home-taught me a little, then Father sent me to Gilberto Music Academy to further it. He did this not because Gramps or Mother weren't good, but because, well, I will be closer to Gramps in that regard. He was a maestro after all, a great man bearing the great name of Obosu. Unfortunately, I didn't bear that name. Then why am I the first grandchild?!!!
Cough! Anyway, I went to the Music Academy, and thanks to my amazing talent and skill, guess what?
I passed all the tests. I could now read staff music and play not just the organ or keyboard in general, but also the atentenben, drums, and a bit of bass guitar too! Amazing, innit?
Feel free to praise me more!
Well, one of the tutors made life hell for me; I will never forget him. Sir Raymond...
He gave me difficult staff exercises to play all because I'm the beloved grandson of Mr. Obosu and also a very talented young man (my talent is very praiseworthy).
I passed them all, of course. Such greatness is only befitting of someone as handsome as moi (if only you could see my egg-shaped head now with little to no hair). Geez! That damn barber!
Well, I can't complain now. I'm also walking with a woman I love and respect very much, my beautiful mother, so calm down. Kelvin. Everything might be alright.
Yeah, I don't believe it. Not after what I've heard about S. H. S.!
Back to the main topic... we followed the crowd, literally, passed some bushes along the way, a few scorpion carcasses too, and walked up to the road to meet the green signpost of this cold school.
It read, "Welcome to your Nightmare! Hope you enjoy it for three years! AHAHAHA!"
Kidding!
It read, "Welcome to St. Hubert Seminary Senior High School." I'm already dreading this...
There were students in army green roundneck T-shirts and army pants situated at vantage points all around, probably cadets. Yes, they were cadets, by how quickly they saw us and approached us. Damn! That speed to catch a rich 1st year. Commendable!
Not like I didn't recognize them. You see, I was once a cadet in junior high school, too. Quiet, the experienced one too. I'm too great! Haha!
Okay, now this baldy is looking at me weirdly, and I'm taller than him! His head was mostly bald, worse than mine, and his head proportions... just AMAZING!
"Hello, Ma, are you here for admission?" He asked, surprisingly better at English than he looked on the outside. Don't judge a book by the cover, they say, but bro, this guy ein head be like Banku oo. But my mother is here, so I have to endure it. I'm sure he can sense my mockery, though.
Something seems off about this place, like we are in a whole new world in Ghana. Interesting. I wonder the kind of friends I will get here. Probably psychopaths like me... Wait! I'm not a psychopath!!!
"Kelvin, isn't that King?" Mother suddenly exclaims as she hurries her steps towards the young guy, and yeah, he sure was King, my school father-to-be. Not like I have a choice.
African mothers are gods, you know...
"Yo, Kelvin!" King waved at me. This fucker! Show some respect! He's a cool guy, though. I know him from church, and he's a very respectful guy. Surprisingly so for a rich kid. And he's in his last year. Yeah, Form 3. He had survived this hell!
Such strength! He's worthy to be my school father!
He wore the school's uniform: a green short-sleeved collared shirt and brown khaki shorts with black socks and sandals. I must say, he looked good in them, unlike this cadet Budo, who was breathing down my neck. This Budo, whom I will later come to find out is one of the prefects and a school prefect at that!
Anyway, we talked with King a bit and moved on with Budo as our guide to the place of admission, where I will sign my hell contract for three years. Hope it's not that bad. I just hope. Man can hope, right?
We passed by some high-rise buildings, nothing too grand. Just some green story buildings with weird-looking students looking at us, mostly me, like eagles seeing a rat. I'm not a rat, assholes!
We passed by a sorry canopy for a canteen and came face-to-face with a large green building shaped like a Pentecostal church, just smaller and shorter in comparison. It was a bit beautiful, though. Not with the color but the presence.
It radiated an ancient presence coupled with the flowers and grass, and moss growing around it, and the birds and other animals playing around; well, it was just beautiful.
This is cheating, you know! I have a girlfriend. Mother doesn't know, so let's keep it a secret.
And something common in Ghana happened.
We had to queue in the sun.
Just great!