This was nursery nine
And we all went where we chose
After a common exam
Cos we chose by choice
Our different directions.
Abu was fragile and straight,
He is tall and chocolate
Very brilliant and bright
But never working hard at reading
So, he was an average pupil like me.
When we got our scores
We were one-two-three apart
And frankly less than five
From the total score for a test,
We were never the highest or best.
At the start of nursery nine
Abu had said a bit, not so much
About his preference for boarding,
A kind of school where he’d be for a while before home
And at least be free for freaks.
My name is Pascal and I like to think,
If it has anything to do with my name I like to calculate
Many times I really rationalize
So, I feared boarding for freaks
They were not challenges in my eyes.
Abu was very nearly lanky and lean
While I was muscular and huge,
And so I thought I had more imprints of courage than him
For at school I killed any ants and insects on sight
While Abu fearfully freed himself.
But deep inside, Abu liked to shift for himself.
Little wonder his desire for boarding was carefully classified.
He wanted a military boarding school,
That would be Nigerian Military School-NMS.
Fourteen years have since flown far
I’ve not set my eyes on him.
Where is Abu?
Where’s the thin-outside-but-thick-inside Abu?
I hope you’re fine and free, my friend.
Two years ago, my head had told me
He was a pilot officer.
And now, right now, my eyes show me
Abu, not thin but with ruddy cheeks,
In military uniform.
I’d love to see him cos I now understand.
Then, back then, I and we called him a sissy.
He seemed very fearfully free,
He loved me but I wasn’t really close
Cos I saw a sissy.
Anyway, we were once boon companions,
And twice alter egos
And then thrice, we were as different as chalk and cheese.