VUVUZELA! (EP 3)

It was lights out.

The two seniors on duty, Ahadjie Christabel and Dan Asante, aka "Vuvuzela", stood in front of each dormitory block as suitable, and called out the instructions for the night.

"No one is stepping out tonight - the gates to each block are locked. Please stay inside until the waking bell tomorrow. And, the lights stay off until then!" that was the mild Christabel speaking.

"Anybro wey e dey figure say he get beard make he try say he go lef the campus this gb3k3 eh! Dey inside, make you no make noise kraa." He cleared his throat.

"Dem boys wey dey tinup dawnty go dey spy chicks as them dey bath, you like ah try am again!" His loud baritone rang out.

He wasn't called "Vuvuzela" for nothing. He'd established his identity by being a grade A snitch, and he didn't try to hide it.

The name however, had stuck after a Form 2 boy called him that in a fit of anger.

This enterprising young boy from Kumasi was a "hustler" who had been making a fortune selling Nike knock-offs to the others.

These went a long way to impress the girls and had changed many a boy's life.

Besides, they all knew those shoes were knock-offs anyways. How else would they be so cheap?

Senior Dan had made his way to the Assistant House Master and worked the story so hard that it was presented as though the shoes the poor boy sold were stolen. He got 4 weeks external suspension, after which he was required to sign a bond of good behaviour.

That night, the boy tackled him infront of the boys dormitory. After a few turns on the ground during which the Form 2 boy made sure to "take his 3 points", he'd risen to his feet, and in clear view of every boy on the block, landed Dan a square kick on the mouth.

"*Ob3ima wo di konkonsa. Ah! Wanu s3 vuvuzela wai. Kwasia mpanyin!"

Then off he went, to serve his 4 week suspension. He never returned.

As for Senior Dan, the story had made sufficient rounds by morning, and his reputation had been mapped out in stone.

                                                

                                                              ***

The boys in Jay House, Dorm 12 chuckled while "Vuvuzela" yelled his commandments.

Comments ranging from "that senior be funny wai" and "Brothers in the Lord, let us remember to say a word of prayer" were passed around as the Form One "goats" prepared to sleep.

Harry was one of them. Not a goat, but a fresher all the same.

He lay on his mattress, pondering over the day's activities.

Etse was a true friend, and after sharing one tin of 'Titus' sardines with him at dining, all was forgotten.

What he couldn't - wouldn't, forget though was the face of that girl.

Carol.

That face had been etched into his mind since the first day he saw her.

Orientation.

She was that type who seemed to think anything else apart from learning in the classroom was a waste of time. She'd kept checking the time on her small leather watch and looking around like she'd prefer Guatanamo Bay to being in the assembly hall, anytime.

What struck Harry most was her skin tone. She was caramel on legs, her curly hair - though cropped short - falling over her forehead. Her eyes were wide and far apart, her nose like a button, and her lips, God, her lips!

Harry turned on his bed to find Sammy, the boy on the next bed staring at him, his torchlight trained on Harry's forehead.

"Whose lips, Harry? Masa, if you no go sleep ah, make you no disturb others o."

Harry chuckled and turned the opposite way, his back to the nosy "*opete".

He planned to leave her a note.

When the class was over and they were packing up to disperse, he'd slyly slip a note into her book, asking her to meet him at the lover's bench behind Asamuje's bungalow.

They'd meet; realise they were made for each other and be a couple after Kim and Kanye's own heart.

Then that idiot man had to spoil it. That "aboa funu" of no consequence!

Harry was getting worked up - Mr. Tampa had set him back 4 more days - when they next had Physics class again.

He groaned.

Sammy piped up, "You kraa what dey wrong you? Keep quiet eh!"

Harry apologized and tried to force sleep. He was disturbed, after all.

Before he went to sleep though, a plan had hatched. He was going to let Carol know his feelings. The shy glances she had given him in class today were enough incentive.

He was a man on a mission.

Cethaurus: Opete - Twi for 'Vulture'. Also, insult.