That Night
Are you familiar with the term disco-weeding? No? What about disco-scrubbing? Let me fill you in. Back in Motown, in ’09, any activity prefixed with “disco” was done in the night. So if you’re disco-weeding, you’re swinging a really sharp machete about in the dark, hoping to hit weeds and not your foot. That’s how our punishment started… We were exempted from going to prep that night. We spent that time weeding… IN THE DARK!
After prep, when the seniors returned, there was mass stretching. If you don’t know what that is, well, the executive summary is that we were beaten by 16 angry seniors who had to change their prep attires on account of pepper… smaaaaaall pepper I poured on them oo. Then we were made to wash the soiled clothes, and afterwards, 2 full hours of disco-scrubbing. We slept at midnight.
This was the first day.
Military Rule
The next morning, at 4:30am, we did not hear a normal rising bell. Eben sounded the rising bell himself. Completely unheard of! This is how it went:
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! “Announcement!! From now until the weekend, Aggrey house is declared to be in a state of military rule!!”. The words that followed were spoken casually, but almost like a threat, “Live like Jesus.”
The look of horror on the faces of the form 2 boys indicated that I had caused more harm than anyone had bargained for. I turned to one of them, Rokotoo, they called him, “Chale, Roks, what be this ‘military rule’ thing?” His response was unsettling, not because of what he said, but because of the way he said it, “This week, no senior be your friend. Them go mafia everybody.”
Ah, so kyerɛsɛ, they hadn’t even been showing us their worst all this time? I no go lie, I almost pissed my pants… but hard guy no dey do yawa.
“What kraa dem go fit do?”, I asked.
“Wait and see” came the reply, “but paa, if I catch that gyimii boy he fly the bolus ehnn, the way I go die am!”
This time I almost sharted.
“Oh, hmmm, meanwhile too, boys dey talk say e be Gyamfi boy he fly am oo”, I offered.
Roks just walked away breathing threats.
Military rule was hell. The wickedness I saw that week ehnn, you’d have to be Lord Voldemort to be any meaner. Chale, we were actually punished for things like not sleeping in our pajamas during the afternoon rest hour. The chopbox room, sustainer of sanity, was locked throughout the week. When the bell rang for dining, we were literally given 30 seconds to vacate the house; you should have seen people running out of the house in singlets and boxer shorts. We had cutlery inspections, trunk inspections, bed inspections, handkerchief inspections… anything which provided an excuse to get you punished was used.
Some people, like Roks, were also investigating, trying to find the “bolus launcher”, AKA me. To others, I was a hero… the masked vigilante who stood up to the seniors in stealth mode. I felt like Spiderman… no, Batman. Yeah, I felt like Batman. And Obodai was Alfred, my butler, the only one who knew my true identity.
Entertainment
Needless to say, we survived military rule. It is not something to wish on anyone, not even your enemies. Seemingly, as a reward for enduring to the end, Saturday came… and with Saturday comes entertainment. It was Records Night. “Records Night” (Recs Night for short) is a Motown term. It has other names in other places: “Jams” and “Soloku” to name a few. Basically, it’s a lust-fest of boys and girls packed into a very hot assembly hall with loud music and people dancing body-to-body like their lives depend on it.
The excitement in the school was almost tangible. Come and see C-Dorm boys polishing their shoes, ironing their shirts… wearing two pairs of briefs in anticipation of nsɛmbɔne. If only the girls knew the plans some guys had for them: plans of evil and not of good, to alter their expected end.
At 6:30pm all roads led to the assembly hall – a large old building. The music was always loud with the bass turned all the way up so that you felt every note in your bones. Those were the days of “Wengeze”; Sarkodie’s rap songs still had some sense back then; Rick Ross was still fat and “jerking” was the dance of the day.
Now I have to be honest, my body no be firewood oo… but chale, call me kriifé (bolus flying aside), call me jon, maybe it was my dad’s advice, whatever, but I just didn’t have it in me to screech—that’s what they called the body-to-body dancing—at these kinds of things. I still don’t. Like the adwenfi alone will kill me. So to make sure that I was not a victim of “improper” dreams and wild imaginations, I preferred to walk outside, around the assembly hall… besides, it was always cooler outside. (If you don’t agree with me, argue with your phone).
Obodai tagged along. We’d grown close, after all, I owed him my life. Besides, there are two things that bring people closer: food and hardship, and though we didn’t have much food, we’d just survived military rule together. Plus, he was in my class, Science 4. It turned out we had a lot in common.
An Angel!
Entertainment moved pretty quickly. Finally, when it was almost 9pm, the DJ announced that he was playing the last song for the night… that’s when it happened. Normally, you’d think angels stay away from places like the nightclub our assembly hall had been transformed into. I was wrong.
The last thing I remember, Obodai was talking about how Ronaldo would always be in Messi’s shadow (yes, people, this argument has gone on for over a decade), all of a sudden I zoned out. I knew he was talking oo, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying. He hadn’t seen what I’d just seen.
Ah. No. Impossible. About 10 feet away, sitting on a short wall, sat an angel.
Chale! When did God start allowing girls to be this beautiful? (Y’all thought it was about to get spiritual .😂 Please, beauty is spiritual.)
Herh! The girl was fooooooiiiiiiiine!
I don’t really remember whether Obodai stopped talking, or if I told him anything. I also don’t know where the vim came from, all I know is that before I could say “Who send me?” I was walking toward her… no plan in my head, I was just responding to the sheer awe of God’s artistry, like a bee attracted to a flower.
I had only one prayer… “Father, let her be in first year.” 🙏
Her sunshine (the girls’ prep and entertainment attire) suggested she was my mate. It was pretty easy to identify us: we hadn’t altered our clothes. The seniors called it buoyancy: the amount of extra space in our uniforms made it look like we could float. Mind you, it was an offence to alter your clothes. Figures.
The bee reached his flower… she noticed me.
I opened my mouth… nothing.
Ei!! What just happened?!
I opened my mouth one more time… still, nothing.
In the name of all that is good, what was happening to me?!
She looked confused. Then she giggled.
“Hi?”, she offered.
Yes! Hi! That was the word! Where is English when you need it?
“Hi”, I replied. I’d have a conversation with my tongue later… that little traitor.
I smiled shyly. “I – I’m Kodzo… I’m in Aggrey.”
“Cool, I’m Akua”, she replied.
“So angels have Akan names these days?” Oh shoot! Did I say that out loud?!
“Pardon me”, she inquired.
“Oh, I said you have a nice name”.
Kai, I do yawa. What’s nice about Akua? It just means she was born on a Wednesday.
“What’s nice about Akua?”, she echoed my thoughts.
Ei, this girl… can’t you see I’m suffering to talk to you?
“Ermm, it reminds me of Aqua… and you know, water is life”, I lied.
Water is life? REALLYYYY??? Some girls were going to laugh at me in their dorm tonight. She stifled her laughter and smiled.
Mama Mia! Dimples! 😍
“Oh, I thought maybe it was your mum’s name”, she offered.
“Yeeeeah, that would have been an easier explanation”, I agreed. I had to change the subject fast.
“So which house are you in?”, I said, while digging my hands into my pockets.
“I’m in Baeta. You’re in first year?”
This was the make or break moment.
“Yes”, I replied, “you?”
She smiled and nodded, “Me too.”
Thank you, sweet Jesus.
This time I made sure to think it and not speak it.
It was time for phase 2: ask her what class she’s in.
It was at this critical moment that the DJ chose to make this poor announcement, “Alright, people! It’s been a great night, but we have to close. I’ve been your DJ, DJ Opele. All Aggrey form one boys are waiting behind to pack the sound equipment!”
Ah, this guy spoil my move… and what kind of name is Opele? Mcheeew.
“I guess they need you. Aggrey house, right?”, she nodded in the direction of the assembly hall stage.
“Yeah”, I replied, “Aggrey boys deɛ, abi you know”.
Right on cue, Eben came out of the assembly hall and started looking for Aggrey form one boys idling about. Nobody told me to excuse myself.
“See you around, Akua.”
“See you, Kodzo”, she said while waving… Motown girls liked waving at close range.
I tried to wave back, but my stupid hands were still in my pocket. We laughed it off, and I turned and walked away.
I’d sleep well tonight.