Chapter 6: Top of the Board

Inter-School Joint Exam result don come out.

My phone blow up. Everybody dey send congratulations. Principal send me letter, parents dey call, even people wey no greet me for corridor dey now dey wave.

I carry first for the whole school.

My name dey board for entrance, teachers dey use my picture as WhatsApp DP. Even suya man for gate hail me, dash me extra pepper. I dey shine pass new car for Lekki.

And I still clear everybody for all eight schools by far.

Thirty marks? Omo, na world record. Everybody dey talk say na witchcraft. But I just dey smile.

Almost thirty marks ahead of second place.

Some parents dey come meet my teacher, dey beg make I tutor their pikin. My mama self, from far, send me empty 'well done' message.

As my picture and result dey fly everywhere, Royal College reputation don pass others.

People dey rush come do transfer. New students dey apply, principal dey smile anyhow. School even send me small scholarship.

Our class rated best, get public praise.

For assembly, dem call my class, everybody dey shout. My classmates dey raise hand, dey shout, 'Na my seatmate!'

For Amara wey dey bully me before, I always smile for her: "No wahala. If she don realize her mistake, she fit change."

I dey talk am for public, so teachers go see say I no get bad mind. Amara go dey boil inside, but me I dey clean.

The more I forgive, the more her own rep spoil.

People dey say, 'Mimi too good. See as she dey forgive.' Amara, everywhere she waka, na gossip dey follow her.

Every day she dey look me with hate for eye.

She go dey hiss, dey avoid my path. If our hand touch, na so she go wipe her body like say na oil stain.

But everywhere, na praise full ground.

Even juniors dey greet me like celebrity. 'Aunty Mimi, good morning!' Teachers dey use me example for class.

"Study goddess, I dey salute."

Some boys go even kneel, dey joke say I dey use my brain do juju.

"Abeg, make I worship your picture—my chemistry fit jump ten marks? Just give me 85. How you take get perfect score?"

Dem go snap my seat, say dem wan tap brain. Na Naija school life be that.

"Maths too—full mark. Na wa."

Math teacher go dey smile like say na him born me.

"Her essay no low too, real all-rounder."

For English, my essay na the sample for the class. Everybody dey copy me.

"Na real genius she be. Na my seatmate—I watch her all day yesterday. No makeup, no eye bag… Na Amara dey spread rumour. Make she rest."

My seatmate dey always defend me. She go dey gossip with others, dey praise me, dey cast Amara small small.

I go back to my seat, my seatmate ask: "So many people dey run you, Mimi. You like any of them?"

I just smile, shake head. For my mind, nobody reach my taste. My own heart dey hard like ekpang wrapper.

I shake my head again.

She go dey roll eye, say 'Na wa for you.' But I know say if person no move my spirit, I no dey force am.

The people Amara send dey too boring, the rest even worse—their acting too dry.

Boys go form accent, dey quote foreign lyrics, but me I dey see their game finish.

My seatmate whisper: "Just as I think, flower wey dey top hill—nobody fit reach."

Na so dem dey call me. For Naija, once you dey out of reach, everybody go dey chase you more.

Apart from Tunde, I get one, two, three, four, five others chasing me—hand no fit count finish.

If dem dey list boys, e go reach market. But my eye dey sharp. Na only interesting person dey enter my lane.

I like new things, person wey fit make me curious, but none of them fit try.

I dey always dey look for person wey get gist, get sense, fit make me laugh. Not just fine face.

Until transfer student enter class—face wey fit break heart.

The day he enter class, everywhere quiet. Even teachers dey pause. He carry style, confidence, and that bad-boy smile wey dey confuse.

Too fine.

Skin dey glow, even for Nigeria sun. E no be like the rest. Even girls dey hide face when he pass.

His abs dey on point.

Rumour talk say he dey do gym. Some girls dey claim say dem see am without shirt for hostel. Na only God know if na lie.

His voice, if he dey act babyish, dey sweet die.

He dey use style, sometimes he go act like small pikin, sometimes like old man. Na the variety dey make am sweet.

Most important, he get sense. While others dey chase me, he dey use him fine face dey seduce me openly.

He no dey hide intention. He go look me, wink, talk small parable. Na him dey use brain play ball, not just mouth.

I look Seyi Ajayi, wey come meet me on purpose, body wet, white shirt stick for body.

He waka come, rain don beat am. Shirt dey hug body, muscle show. Girls dey peep from window. Me I dey enjoy the view.

"Dem beat you again?"

Na joke, but I talk am with small pity. Make e know say I notice.

I look am with small pity.

For my mind, I dey laugh. Seyi dey always find trouble, e dey easy for am to enter wahala. But his soft look dey confuse people.

He nod, black hair dey fall for forehead.

He just dey do like say life hard am, but na packaging.

I touch just below his Adam’s apple. "Your button don cut."

I help arrange am, my finger linger small. I see his ear turn red. Boys sabi shy, even if dem dey form hard guy.

Pitiful people dey always touch person mind. He hold my hand gently, dey tempt me.

He hold am soft, like say he wan beg for biscuit. But e get that devilish smile wey dey confuse mind.

"I too dey worry you? Dem talk say I resemble girl. Everybody dey bully me."

I dey wonder why he dey always play the victim. For Naija, person wey get fine face fit use am chop life.

I look his clean, innocent look, then check the anonymous video wey reach my phone. My smile wide.

E shock me, but I maintain face. If you show shock, you go lose guard. Na only strong mind dey survive for Lagos.

For noisy club, Seyi Ajayi pour red wine for woman chest, his face dey mock: "Fine chest. Good for flower decoration."

I replay the video for my mind, dey calculate. Seyi get two face—one for public, another for private.

Then he carry one rose with thorn, under her scared face, press am down hard.

I dey wonder why people dey like pain others. For club, na game, for street, na fight.

"Commot."

Seyi Ajayi voice dey impatient.

His acting no get rival. That time, one bougainvillea petal land for his hair, make am look like angel.

Na small detail, but na so girls dey fall. Small flower for hair, one smile, everybody don forget say e fit bite.

But people no know—guy jealousy dey dangerous.

Jealousy fit turn fine boy to wild animal. For Lagos, you fit learn lesson sharp sharp.

The day I praise his fine face for public, somebody quick expose Seyi boxers.

Na embarrassment dey humble everybody. Once you dey form too much, street go show you say you no pass anybody.

I use tissue clean his hair. "You wan be my seatmate?"

I talk am with smile, make everybody dey look. Seyi eyes light up. The game just dey start.