ZAZZAU.

PHOTO CREDIT: GOOGLE.

EDITED BY: theunusual_writer.

THE SCHOOL OF CANCEROUS WOES.

Muyiwa Giwa was a typical Nigerian woman who had seen all shades of the Nigerian society. Slim and average-height, her skin tone settled between dark chocolate and light brown; she had bold lips, tiny eyes, and the perfect nose sitting in the middle of her face. 26 and single, marriage was the last thing on her mind. At 16, she was full of big dreams, and she lived just in the clouds, getting into the university with one of the best results. She couldn’t lay her hands on her dream course, even though she merited it, but rather was offered Guidance and counseling. After four years of distaste and struggle, soaking garri and groundnut endlessly and drinking the unhealthy school tap water, she was always seated at the front of the class, taking note of every word the lecturer had to say, turning in her assignment as and when due, burning the midnight candle, and for a minute one might think she might have graduated with a first class, but then a second class upper wasn’t bad at all.

Getting a job was another battle she had to face. She had heard so many "come back later "stories, and she had given up. Dumping her certificate in an old leather bag, she looked for an alternative. She got a job as a waiter at a very local restaurant with 5,000 naira as her salary per month, which she used to contribute to the feeding money her father brought from his wheel barrow business. After a few months, she resigned and got another job as a salesgirl, and the pay was much better. She continued to move from one odd job to another, and yet again she picked up her certificate, dusted it, and went job hunting again. Hmn. Her eyes met a big poster on an uncemented wall: "An experienced Guidance counselor is needed". She wasn’t so experienced, but she had counseled her neighbors stubborn children, and she could give it a shot. And the big news is that it was one of the best schools in Maitama. She copied the number down, bought corn and local pear from a roadside vendor, and took a bus.

Early the next morning, Muyiwa was clad in her favorite black skirt, an Old burgundy shirt, and a black flat shoe. She wore her mother's ancient of days wig after sprinkling too much water on it, but she later took it off after discovering she looked like a hen beaten by a heavy rain. Muyiwa packed her natural hair, brushed it, and applied some lip gloss as she stared at herself in the mirror. She had to go really early to catch a bus because the school was very far from where she lived.

"Ekaaro Iya! Ekaaro Baba (good morning, mother! Good morning, father!)". Muyiwa greeted her parents genuflectingly. "Mo ti fere lo (I'm about to leave)".

"Ehen Omo mi lo Daradara( My child goes well)". Her mother said, and her Baba nodded in agreement.

Zazzau Comprehensive. It was owned by one wealthy Alhaji Dantaba Usman, who named the school after his love for his home town, Zaria. He died many years ago, and one couldn’t help but notice the decay in the school. It had a big black gate with real human skulls and dried bones as designs. That was the first thing that shook Muyiwa. Laughs. It was rumored that the skulls were from the people Alhaji Dantaba had killed.

Muyiwa walked quietly into the school, and by the time she got there, the Assembly was ongoing. She stared at the students in shock. Most of them weren’t even wearing the uniform; some had bruises and cuts on their bodies, and they looked really spoilt, unkept, and unruly. A slight fear gripped her chest, but she was going to be fine.

After the assembly, she moved to the administrative block, after which she was taken to the principal's office. Principal Pamilerin was a very funny man who liked to Ogle everything in skirts. He was as wide as a basin and as brief as a walking stick. And his office smelled of extreme discipline.

"Good morning, sir."

"Muyiwa Giwa, right?". The principal said

cutting her short. "Are you sure you can handle these kids". Yes, sir, I can". She said hastily, "We have been searching for a guidance counselor for a while, and it's good you came, although you don’t have any experience". He said it with Emphasis on "any". He stared at her resume intently and said, "We can work with you, hoping you won’t run off like the other cowards did. Your pay is very high—five hundred thousand per month—and it should be enough to cater for your needs."

Muyiwa’s eyes widened in sheer surprise "Thank you, sir!". "Lest I forget, you’ll move into the staff quarters... It's very comfortable". "Okay sir! Thank you. When can I start?". "Don’t be in haste, young woman". He said sternly "But anyway, you can start tomorrow.".

"Thank you so much, sir!".

Muyiwa got home very late that day because of the traffic; she informed her parents about it between mouthfuls of Yam and Oil with chopped fresh pepper. They were skeptical but nodded their heads in satisfaction after they heard about the pay. It was good enough. Muyiwa neatly packed her stuff into a small Ghana must-go bag, zipped it, and sat quietly on her bed as she thought of all the things that could go right and wrong. The atmosphere of the school was really dense, and it smelled of blood and darkness. Fear gripped her as she thought of the worst. She had heard so many rumors about the school, but as you know, rumors can just be rumors. One can go the extra mile to ruin another's reputation. After so much thought, she slept off in anticipation of what the next day held for her.

Muyiwa stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She wouldn’t be using the mirror in a long time, so she might as well say goodbye. She got dressed and met her parents at the verandah for prayers, after which she walked to the junction and took a bus with her belongings.

For the second time, Muyiwa was perceiving a strange odor, something she hadn’t perceived before—darkness. The principal and two other staff members who looked rather weird accompanied her to the staff quarters, after which they showed her around the school.

The school was a four-story building with leaves and grass everywhere; some were poking out of the classroom windows, others were littered on the ground. But it had this rich ambience. She was shown the Dark room of pain, where students who defaulted were given their due punishment. The door was heavily padlocked. As they moved on, she noticed that there was a big chart on almost all the notice boards, and it had the big, bold inscription "Default  and Die.".

Her eyes scrolled down, and she saw a list of punishments for every offense, and once again fear gripped her.

You wouldn’t want to know what she saw.

After the tour, she got back to her room at the staff quarters, gazing around intently. It wasn’t so bad; it was neatly painted and cozy. There was a little kitchen with an old camping stove, a sink, and a cabinet, then the toilet and bathroom put together. The perfect space for her Hopefully, she would stay long enough.

"Sit here, you little thwart!". The head teacher ordered A student had just been brought into Muyiwa’s office. Her first student .The boy sat down defiantly. He had a small lighter in his hands, which he used to harm himself from time to time. "He threatened to kill his classmate". The head teacher spoke sternly, and Muyiwa nodded, oblivious to how she could help. The head teacher left immediately and shut the door behind him, and Muyiwa examined the boy carefully; he had so many cuts on his face, and his hands were burned up and reddish. She had never seen such a human being before. From a decent guess, he should be about 15 years old, unruly, and full of teenage hormones.

"Hey little man!". Muyiwa said as she cleared her throat. "Drop that lighter on the table". The boy continued to flick the lighter on and off in an attempt to piss her off, and sure enough, he did a good job as she screamed "I said drop the lighter!". The boy shook and didn’t know when he dropped it on the table.

"Good! What’s your name? And why will you threaten to kill your classmate". She said it harshly. She wasn’t ready to give any one baby the treatment. And not him definitely.

"Salam!". He whispered. "He deserves to die".

"Who deserves to die?". Muyiwa asked quizzically. "Sholade". "The person you threatened?" "Yes". "Why would you say that?". "Because he is evil".

Muyiwa sighed " Look, salam, no one deserves to die, no matter how bad the person is or how much the person has hurt you". She said it convincingly, hoping to change him in 15 seconds.

"I think this is all motivation and lies... very crappy!". He snapped. "You think you can just come here and say this and that? I bet you’ll run away just like the others did. People who hurt people deserve to die. I mean, Sholade spoke about my eye, and that hurt me, so I am going to kill him and make him lose one eye". Salam kept ranting in defiance. Muyiwa’s gaze shifted to his eyes, and if she hadn’t noticed before, he had half-past eyes. Her heart sank, and she didn’t know what to do or what technique to apply. So she let him go, praying that by the time she met with him again, she could talk some more sense into his head. She needed time to think of the right way to approach such an uncultured child. Chuckles.

She had no idea.

Two days later, Muyiwa sat on her bathroom floor, weeping uncontrollably. Sholade had died. It was alleged that one of his eyes was missing, and a blue liquid flowed down his mouth. He was found in the dormitory. She had an opportunity to save a life, but she didn’t. She had the opportunity to speak to Salam, but from the look of things, his mind was already made up. No one said anything about Sholade’s death; the school continued with business as usual. I mean, what could they possibly have done? They didn’t see anyone kill Shola. Yes! Salam threatened him, but no one saw him carry out the action. And yet again, the issue was buried like so many others. When his parents came for him, the school told them he had committed suicide, and that was it. He wasn’t so sane after all.

Muyiwa, for one day, never thought she would work in a school. Hence, she didn’t give her mother's idea of studying education a thought. But here she was tending to half-sane students.

"When the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there". The students murmured. It was Black Tuesday, and this was because the school had lost two of its students to drug overdose. Classes were suspended, and all the teachers retreated to their rooms. A very sad day.

Hmm! What a tragedy!

Three weeks had passed, and Muyiwa was already getting tired. She was already losing so much weight, and she had little to no sleep. She had treated two severe cases of rape, and her office was slowly becoming a bus stop. She started having nightmares, and they were so serious that she would wake up at night screaming so loudly. Teacher Olaye, also known as Mr. If-I-no-help-I-go-die, would rush to her room, banging on the door and shouting, "It's me, teacher Olaye.  Open up". And Muyiwa would reach for the door, panting and shaking. She had just spent her first night with the famous Zazzau bat. Teacher Olaye would hold and cuddle her, singing funny Yoruba songs, and she would sleep peacefully.

Very funny. It's not that no other teacher heard the loud screams, but they all had their share of it, and it was not their business. Silently and quietly, Mr. Olaye moved a few of his belongings to her room and found his way between her legs. They cooked together, ate together, discussed the ancient Ife, and played whot and ludo. He was a very welcome distraction from all the mess going on in Muyiwa’s head, and he was very serviceable.

Zazzau Comprehensive was an asylum. Too many strange noises at night; too many ugly-looking birds flying about. It was alleged that they were Alhaji Dantaba’s prisoners who were seeking freedom. There were too many mad students and teachers. The school had lost its grip on morality and was swimming in the wild ocean of darkness. Parents were not allowed to visit their children until the session was over, and even if they wanted to, they were too busy, buried in billions to come. The clinic was in a worse state. Students who came out of the Dark room of pain were badly bruised and bleeding. One could only imagine what goes on there. Rape cases every week; more dead bodies than living souls; so many emotionally and mentally damaged children Their academics were nothing to write home about.

Muyiwa was buried in as many materials as she could get and downloaded so many ebooks. She read morning, afternoon, and night, and it wouldn’t be long before she became as mad as the rest of them.

"I heard you had something unusual to do with your fellow girl!". Muyiwa said, her face tightening in seriousness. Before her was Amaranna Odili, who was quite sane and didn’t have any bruises or cuts like most of the others she had seen. She had a really pretty face and nice eyes. Muyiwa had heard previously that she was the one with so many LGBTQ stickers on her room wall. "Unusual??". Amara asked, rolling her eyes. "Yes! You touched your fellow girl in the wrong place". "Wrong place?! Oh my God, who are you?". Look, young lady, I am not here to joke with you! Tell me why you would touch your fellow girl wrongly". Muyiwa said she was almost shouting. "The organ between Titi’s legs is the wrong place?." And then it dawned on Muyiwa.

"Titi is a girl, and you are a girl... You are not supposed to have any business with her body. It's inappropriate". "Inappropriate!". Amara chuckled. "Look, Aunty Yiwa, I like Titi, and she likes me too... It's not my fault that Teacher Faisal found my hands between her legs". Muyiwa stared headlong at her. She searched her mind for all the knowledge she had garnered, but she was as blank as a piece of paper. "Who taught you this? Or who brought you into this". Muyiwa asked calmly and started giving off the "You can talk to me; your secret is safe with me." I wasn’t always like this, Aunty". Amara started, and she went on and told Muyiwa everything, from how her elder sister made her watch certain kinds of movies, tried certain things with her, and all sorts of other unbelievable things. And for the first time, Muyiwa cried so hard in front of her student. Most of these kids were going through so much; they had so much corrupt data ingested into their minds hence they were malfunctioning. Then and there, she made up her mind to do anything to save as many as she could.

On a very hot afternoon, the sun was out in its full glory. Mr. Olaye walked towards the teachers quarters with a chilled sachet of water in his mouth. He was done for the day. He smiled as he got to Muyiwa’s door. He was anticipating treating himself to her spicy chicken stew, but on getting there, the door was locked, and his key couldn’t unlock the door. Many thoughts crossed his mind. His Yiwa wouldn’t do anything without telling him first. If she was going to change the padlock, she should have informed him. He tried her number, but it was switched off. He walked down to his room, which wasn’t far, and he met his little napsack and his old box outside the door of his room. He bent down only to find two notes, one from Muyiwa and one from the school.

Olaye! You are no longer my baby. How could you rape an innocent JS 2 student? You thought I wouldn’t find out. She confided in me. Yes, Yemi Dipo confided in me, and I want nothing to do with you anymore. Burn in hell and rot in jail. You already know who’s writing.

"Oh no! My yiwa". He whispered, going weak in his knees. The other one was a sack letter from the school. He shook his head, picked up his belongings, and walked away. Yiwa didn’t deserve his kindness and love after all. He thought. She was supposed to cover up for him and still call him her baby. What a joke!

The investigation of the rape case had started, and Yemi Dipo was willing to say everything that had happened. He had gotten away with so many others, but not this one.

Muyiwa hadn’t made so many friends there. Her work was bulky, and she didn’t have much time to socialize. Ms. Joy, the History teacher, came by her office from time to time, but Muyiwa felt she was more of a gossip than an actual friend, so she cut her off. She didn’t need more than what she had on her plate.

Hmn.

It has been a hectic three months for Muyiwa. She had learned a lot, the students were improving, and she was happy. She couldn’t wait to see how much she would accomplish, but life can just be life. You know. Just when you think you are about to achieve the next big thing, your village people will strike.

On a quiet Saturday morning, Muyiwa stared at her phone ringing. It had been ringing endlessly for some minutes, and there was no caller ID. She was making stew for the new week and didn’t like much disturbance when cooking. She dried her hands on her apron and picked up the phone.

"Hello, Omo Mi! Baba yin ni ku (Your father is dying") She heard her mother's voice; she was sobbing. "Iya!". Muyiwa said and ended the call. She turned the gas off, changed her outfit, and took the next bus!.

THE END.

I drop my pen here, and I leave you to your thoughts. Think of all the possible outcomes and what happens to Muyiwa from here.

Thank you so much for reading🙏

Please come back again 💕.

2023. ASINDI WENDY. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.