TALES FROM THE BOARDING HOUSE

From liquidated friendships, to pure hardwork, to breath sucking laughters, to bundles of memories, to fufilled years. I made it whole out of the boarding house. Let me first clear up the popular stereotype you might have about boarding houses. I wasn't taken to a boarding house because I was ill mannered or behaved badly or my parents didn't have time for me, nope. I'm a Nigerian, I've lived in Nigeria my whole 17 years of existence, and in Nigeria most secondary schools have boarding house facilities and it is highly normal to start living in the boarding house once you start secondary education. All that being cleared it's time to move on. Before I started this write up, I was honestly confused. I couldn't actually make a decision on what to put down for my first bio page update, but as usual *eye roll* my brain went behind my back and consulted my traitorous heart and mind and made their decision. Can you imagine? No matter how long I thought about it, nothing else came up in my head than to share my boarding house life with you all. I'll just succumb this time but next time my organs must know who is in charge. My boarding house life was so *slight pause in my brain* I can't actually look for just an adjective to describe it. I will need like a gazillion. There are so many memories threatening to burst out with the help of my fingers, thank Goodness my fingers didn't join the rest to betray me. That being said, *drum roll* its time to pour out my tales from the boarding house. Wait. ALERT! ALERT!ALERT! There are so many stories to tell, and i just have to pick just one. Imagine! Sadly space is not on my side. The speed and force at which the rest are planning to come out is quite threatening.It might result into a volcanic eruption of words. Readers beware! Science inclined individuals please help in calculating the speed and force stuff. Kindly comment below in order to help new readers.*wink* Its time to splash a story that will get your eyes popping out. Due to space constraints, I will just center on one memory, just one story. I was in ss1 at that time, equvalent of grade 10. Inter-house sports was around the corner, this is a sport competition between the various houses in the school. Each house was meant to perform a march past and ss1 students were selected for that. Preparing for march was meant to be fun coupled with a lot of practice, but ours was quite a different story. Right from when i was in junior school, i knew how my school practiced for march past so it was something i was dreading and anticipating at the same time. March past was something only boarding house students in my school engaged in and practice was as well in the boarding house area. One normal saturday morning, the sun was shining, there was no power supply, trust me that was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was going its normal way. Nothing pointed out that day would be the day march past practice will begin. I was in my dorm whiling away time with my friends, when one of the feared seniors in my house barged into my dorm shouting orders containing words which indicated us running down to her dorm. I was mixed with a pinch of fear and a full spoon of excitement. Few minutes later *sponge bob's voice* I was red faced, having troubles with holding back tears and in a whole lot of pains.So much for my full spoon of excitement. On my run to the senoirs dorm, i felt like mini Jesus carrying my cross to Golgotha. I fell, got flogged, stood up and kept on running. What was going on? I did not sign up to train to be a soldier. When i finally got to the dorm, it was beating, after training, after chanting so many songs and quick phrases that were honestly uncalled for, with a teeny tiny dose of fun. Note the order of arrangement, that was how the seniors prirotised it. We went back each weekend, and such was our story. Some students withdrew along the way and met their punishment. Finally the school management got a wind of it and cancelled it. I felt a mix of dissapointment and relief. Disaapointment because that was just part of the whole boarding house experience. That is just one out so many. Should I start about our dinning hall adventures or fight to get water or Seniors emphasizing their seniority *eye roll to infinity* or wait our struggle to go home or probably our legendary fights or boy trouble days or, at this rate I'll just keep on mentioning. There's still so so so much to say, but there is this thing called word limit that is posing as an ugly villain. Sadly I will have to stop here due to length of this write up. I warned you about the volcano eruption of words, guess it happened. Honestly, I don't want to stop writing. There are a lot of memories to share and I've not even scratched it. This is just beginning and I'm not planning to relent. Check out my bio to see what I have in store for you all. It's your favorite Nigerian Girl. Cheers!

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