Why I Want To Be Bad 11







“The whole educational and professional training system is a very elaborate filter, which just weeds out people who are too independent, and who think for themselves, and who don’t know how to be submissive, and so on – because they’re dysfunctional to the institutions”

– Noam Chomsky


I hate education. Don’t get me wrong, I love learning and love school but I just hate the Nigerian educational system.


They don’t teach you what you need to learn, the teacher are nonchalant about their work, they are very static and obviously hate progress and let’s not even talk about the infrastructures – that’s just an eyesore.


An illustration of how the Nigerian educational system works is one in which the educational system can be likened to a monkey who climbs a tree. The government and whatever organisation involved in constructing the system expects every other animal in the forest to climb the same tree. Although the birds can easily fly to the top and the gorilla easily climb to the top as well, what happens to the fishes which can’t even survive out of water?


But all these complains are just as a lay Nigerian would put it, for my pocket.


These were the thoughts that always crossed my mind whenever I remembered I had to go to school and today was no exception.


The whole hospital investigator thing was fun and I guess two years of studying human psychology was finally paying off as I applied some of the things I had learnt on the way in solving the little mystery of Mary-Anne’s case.


I still had to talk with Maxwell about our relationship and I still wasn’t sure about what I would do about my discovery, the one concerning Henry having sex with Mary-Anne, but I decided to suspend those thoughts and focus at the herculean task at hand; getting to school before 9am, the time was 8:30am and I was still at home, hadn’t even had my bath.


I went to the bathroom and it was then I noticed the devil was present as I discovered there was no water. Without thinking much about it, I grabbed a bucket and went the front yard where a general tap was mounted. It was one of those ancient taps that you had to manually pump the water so of course, water started gushing out of it as I pumped tediously.


In no time my bucket was filled and I ran back to my flat, pouring almost half of the water on the way but at the end, I finally had my bath. Mission one accomplished.


Now, I’m a very ‘girly’ girl and I have a reputation to keep so the issue of what to wear is not one I take lightly at all. I opened my wardrobe and the first thing I saw was my black Gucci bag, I grabbed it and since I figured I was going to literally run to the lecture hall, I decided dressing casual was the best option so I snatched a pair of sky-blue jeans, white top and a black Manola Blahnik shoe to match with the bag… That was as simple as I could be.


I threw a few things into the bag; a note book, a pen, my purse, my I-pad, my makeup kit and with that I zoomed out of my apartment to where my personal taxi for the semester was already waiting for me. Don’t get too excited thinking I’m rich enough to hire a personal taxi for an entire semester, I just happened to have rich male friends who can spend on a girl.


“Emma, I don late oh,” I said as I dived into the car, “drive like madman abeg.” Emma was my driver, just a simple and married man in his early thirties who has been through quite a few adventures with me but let me not bore you with the details.


“But I no be madman na,” Emma ignorantly replied.


“Just drive as fast as you can,” I hissed. On a normal day, I would have laughed and explained to Emma that it was just an expression as he was an eager-to-learn illiterate but today wasn’t so normal.


As Emma drove me to school, I did a rushed make up and made a few calls to confirm if the lecturer had arrived, getting negative replies, I urged Emma to drive faster.


He pulled up right at the front of my faculty, where I was to have the lecture and zoomed off after I alighted. He knew my schedule already so I didn’t need to tell him when to come and pick me.


It was 9:01am when I got to the door of the lecture hall, Professor Iyagba was already at the front of the hall, teaching. I knew all my effort was wasted because he never allowed any student enter the hall after he had entered, even though the student was one minute late.


Professor Iyagba or Agbaya as some evil student nicknamed him was a devil who was always on corporate clothing. He always had his tie knotted tightly round his neck come rainfall and sunshine. To be frank, he was good looking and quite fit for his assumed age which I guess would be roughly around his mid-forties and one would expect him to be old and kind-hearted but as they say, don’t judge a book by its cover. He taught me in my first year at Yaba-tech so I should know.


He failed over half of us in the department that year simply because we didn’t buy his hand-out which he never mentioned was compulsory until the exam day where he walked in the exam hall just before we were to start writing and said, “I told your course rep to tell you people my hand-out is available and you people thought I compiled the hand-out for fun so therefore didn’t bother buying, only a handful were wise enough to buy. Good luck with your exams.” He didn’t say it directly but the silence in the hall showed everyone sure got the message.


As I stood at the front of lecture hall, I peeped through the door and saw Agbaya had turned his back to the door as he scribbled something on the board, an idea instantly came to mind, I didn’t really think about it before trying to execute it.


I saw a vacant seat at the back of the hall and throwing away all my ‘poshness’, I swiftly sneaked into it and tried to blend in before the lecturer turned to address the class once more.


“So in our last class we were talking about…” Agbaya started to say but paused as his eyes crossed my path. “Stand up!” He thundered at me.


My heart skipped a beat as I reluctantly stood up. I had never heard of anyone who tried to outsmart Agbaya in such a way, I knew I had made a dreadful mistake.


“Oh lord, help me,” I murmured to myself as I sluggishly stood up.






The world is so unpredictable. Things happen suddenly, unexpectedly. We want to feel we are in control of our own existence. In some ways we are, in some ways we’re not. We are ruled by the forces of chance and coincidence

– Paul Auster


It was a bad day. I never knew that there was only sixty-three ceiling plates in the Nelson Mandela lecture hall until one of the lecturers thought it would be nice to give an impromptu test and me being the super attentive and serious student I was, had to chew my pen and count the ceiling plates all through the test.


As if that wasn’t enough, one new recruit that just ‘bagged-up’ a few days ago was a little excited and got into a huge problem with another fraternity, although I was able to save him at that very moment, I won’t give too much details on this but just know that I have a gun and I’m not scared to use it. The problem now is I fear that I just started a cult war.


Anyway, that aside it was about 5pm and my day was finally over, so going home was the next thing on the list.


I boarded a school shuttle to the main school gate and from there entered a bus which was supposed to drop me at my street junction.


Something quite interesting happened in the bus though.


I was lucky enough to sit beside a very beautiful lady. It’s rare to see a Yaba-tech girl on low cut and even if you see, they don’t risk dyeing it and even if they dye it, it still doesn’t fit them but the lady beside me was on low cut, she dyed it gold which compliment her light skin and saying was perfect is an understatement. She killed it.


Judging from her complexion, her green eyes, hair style and all of that, she looked like a half-caste or even a total foreigner. A very beautiful one at that, I knew I just had to talk to her.

She was reading a book on her phone and after thinking about the best approach, I figured it would be best to use the book she was reading. Every smart girl likes a smart guy who knows a thing or two about books and thanks to Maxwell novel reading habit, I know a few things.

“What’s the title?” I asked sounding a little too loud.


“Title of what?” She asked coldly.


“The book you are reading,” I replied calmly, I wasn’t really expecting a warm reply.


“A Song of Ice and Fire,” she replied without even blinking.


“That’s the novel for Game of Thrones right?” I pushed persistently, “written by George. R. R. Martins?”


This time she paused to stare at me. Not everyone who has seen the Game of Thrones movie have an interest in the novel, let alone know who wrote it, I was sure I had impressed her.


Her green eyes quickly scrutinised me and then she spoke, “yea, written by G.R.R.M. Have you read the book?”


Now when you want to lie to a lady, you have to think really fast and try to keep your lie short and simple in such a way that more questions won’t be asked because females naturally know when a guy is lying to them ninety percent of the time.


“I have but I didn’t really enjoy the book, his use of English was quite different from the regular one,” I lied. I had never seen the book in my entire life but judging from the settings in the movie, I assumed the book would be quite complex.


“Yea, you have a point, George’s English is not really plain in the novel,” She agreed.


“Anyway, let’s not talk much about books, let’s talk about the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” I said trying to change the topic before she ask a question I won’t be able to reply. Flattery always work, yet to see any girl that’s immune to it.


“And who might that be?” She asked, visibly blushing.


“I don’t know her name yet but she’s the lady beside me right no,” I said looking straight into her green eyes. She had really nice eyes by the way.


“Oh! I can see she’s really beautiful,” she replied looking past me at the woman on my other side. I laughed.


“True, the woman is beautiful,” I said as I turned to look at the woman, “but I was referring to the most beautiful girl in the world.”


“I really don’t know who you are talking about,” she replied as she closed the book she was reading and locked her phone, therefore giving me full attention. Like I said, flattery always works.


“Well, if you are going to keep up this act, I may as well just tell you who I’m referring to,” I said, “I’m referring to you.”


Being really light skinned I could easily see as her cheeks instantly turned pepper red.


“Oh!” She said in a fake surprised tone, “thank you.”


“No need to thank me, I’m just stating the obvious.”


“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”


“So are you a student at Yaba-tech or what?” I asked the question that’s been on my mind.


“Yea, I am. How about you?”


“Sure, I am,” I looked through the window and noticed we just drove pass a small company which manufactured plastic products. My smile was no more, “there’s a small problem.”


She rose an eyebrow, “what’s the problem?”


“I’m really enjoying this our conversation and would like to continue but I’ll soon get to my bus stop,” I looked down at my feet sadly. It was all an act though.


“Oh! Give me your phone,” she ordered.


I have two phones. An iPhone 5s which was a big deal before the iPhone 6 came and spoil market for me and a Nokia torchlight. I could have shown off and given her the iPhone but I gave her the Nokia torchlight phone. Girls like guys that are original or at least seem to be original.


She hesitated before taking the phone just as I had expected but took it anyway and punched her number into it.


I took it and then asked, “What’s your name by the way?”




“Alright Tonia, I’ll call you,” I said and really meant to but it skipped my mind as I had been busy, little did I know she’ll walk into my house barely two days later with Maxwell grabbing her waist like he owned her.


I did not like that at all.




2 thoughts on “Why I Want To Be Bad 11” by chistar01 (@chistar01)

  1. Wow.this wonderful

  2. Smooth operator Henry.

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