The Search….

The Search….

Rudely awakened by my roommate, I slowly recovered from the deep somewhat peaceful slumber I had been in. As I slowly booted like a Covenant University girl’s system which is usually Pentium emmm… with so much startup processes, and a clogged registry, I tried to confirm the reason for my rude awakening… “What happened?” I asked in a rather scruffy confused voice. My ruffled roommate answered unconcernedly that there was an announcement that we should all converge at the reception. I stood up from my bed, noticing all the mess made by my roommate when he poured Kellogg’s coco pops all over the floor in the room. The crackles could be heard under my feet as I stepped slowly and unsteadily to make myself presentable before going downstairs.

The sound of my hall officer, or somebody else I think, could be heard as an annoying drone. My mind was still unalert as I continued to drag myself towards the staircase. As my consciousness increased, I began to think of the reason for the untimely call, until I saw that the porter was on my floor. He called a guy and caught him with a phone which is prohibited in my school. I realized at that point that there was a search to be undergone. At this point, I was still angry at the fact that I was awoken in the middle of the night for such an unsavory frivolity, and all the while hoping that it would end quickly, I eventually started to walk the long journey down the staircase from 400-floor.

Just as I got to the end of the 2nd floor, my roommate alerted me to the fact that we were supposed to carry our id cards, the very annoying dog neck-tags that we, supposedly ‘kings and queens’ are compelled to wear even to our beds. I waived it aside thinking it was unnecessary as I had already completed the most of my journey downstairs. Just as I got to the reception the very sadistic hall officer noisily sent me back to get my id. That part passed quickly because I was still half asleep while walking. Eventually, when I went out of the hall, I found out that we were to be SIGNED back IN. I joined the queue which moved 1 person, every 2 minutes, when I noticed my line wasn’t moving. Boys being boys were very noisy and unruly, and there were 2 queues. Some people who had exams the following morning had brought their notes with them and those who were free began gisting and grumbling at their predicaments. On my own part, I was still half asleep and unfortunately for me, they decided to do the head count by rooms. I was on 400-floor, the 7th room, and there was no hope of my returning to my comfortable bed any time soon. I began to think and study the surrounding events as I had nothing else to do.

I noticed that the woman who was assigned to my wing was hoarding the pen she was to give to us to sign the paper. When a guy I knew asked her for it, she made a very distinctly strange face that confused me, because it gave the impression that she was either constipated or irritated. I couldn’t laugh because I was too angry. The boy, understanding the look quickly got an alternative. 200-floor. My legs were becoming weak. I needed to sit down. I looked around and noticed that i was completely surrounded as the line had shifted around me. I began to lose my breath as I am claustrophobic. I decided to squat. I did so but only for a few seconds because, just as I did that, the next person that moved to my front comfortably poked my face with his pointy behind. I decided to manage standing as I didn’t want to be an ass-wipe to people whose hygiene status, I didn’t know. 300-floor.

I could see the light shining in the distance. This gave me hope and with the hope came strength. I began to look around and noticed that one of my friends was having a problem getting into the hall because he had not been able to collect his new id. I wondered at that point, why the school usually blamed us for their own inefficiencies. 400-floor. It was almost getting to my turn. I began again to recount the fact that I must put this note down. I even wondered the point of it all, because people probably knew of the search and had responded appropriately by hiding their contrabands. 406. I began to hear my roommates who had by now reached beside me ready to sign in as they discussed their love for vanity. 407. I reached and borrowed my friend’s pen and signed the roll call as the woman studied my id card. I could read her thoughts. (My telepathy is strong at night). Ash Lex, 400-level, E.S.M. She looked at my face. “Child abuse,” she must have thought. “This small boy already in 400-level”. “Wonders shall never cease”.

I collected my id and walked towards the hall and just as i passed the reception, a woman i had never seen in my life shouted after me, “ah! See our choir master”. I completely ignored her and continued my journey, on my mind; my bed. “I must sleep”, I thought as I climbed up the stairs. “I must sleep”, I thought as I entered the room. “I must sleep”, I thought as I dropped on my bed. I must…..

 



6 thoughts on “The Search….” by kandy (@lexash)

  1. Na wa o. Seemed I have become more spaced out than I ever imagined possible.

    What to make of this? Or is this about the author’s ‘search for sleep’…or is there a sequel?

  2. The image incited by this write-up is too clogged. Your descriptions could be better.

  3. Me sef kon tink sey na gurl dey talk o.
    The descriptions were too saccharined.
    But bro u try, e no easy. I beliv u kan do more.

  4. Hahaha…Reason why I am laughing is cos I’ve had this same deal..
    @eletrika..dem do us this kain thing last year…i wrote bout it somewhere, mayhaps I’ll dig it up…
    Private schools would be private schools sha..

    @lexash..though d story is kinda cluttered…I totally get you..if i do put up dat story of mine, maybe we ll compare them…hehehe….Well done… e no easy..

  5. A story should accomplish something and arrive somewhere.

  6. Even when I was in secondary school, we had more freedom… Our I’d card was used outside the school sef.

    Concerning your story, I dunno what to make of it o. True, it is a story but that’s just what it is.

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