THE FIRST PRICK

 

Mistakes are like a needle’s prick: so painful and irreversible. If you do not get to know how, why and what causes these mistakes, you will forever cry when you are the lost sheep. But if you are wise enough to know why and how these mistakes occur, and figure out feasible measures to mitigate them, you will never do these silly mistakes again. For you will surely have learnt a lesson from the first prick.

But for the very first time, I did not think so, even if I say so now. And actually, that is how many of us are – the humans. Just like that. Instead of thinking first and then acting, we over react before even analyzing the situation and end up blaming ‘them’ for being in wrong, little knowing that we ourselves are the ones in wrong: chaff in wheat.

          That day. No matter how hard I try to forget it, I will not. For it is like a scar of a sword on my skin, making me release big and fat tears whenever I look at it. So the more I try to forget it, the more it becomes obvious in my mind.

          I remember, the night before “that day”, there had happened to be an aura of complete oddity. I was feeling incredibly strange, although, I gave this least of my fuss. Additionally, I slept so late – something I had never done in many moons. The first time it had happened, a rat in our neighbor’s garden died. The second time it dared to happen, our cock that we had anticipated to feast on in the Christmas holidays died a week before the celebration. And now this same thing had happened again for the third time – but I had given it not a damn. Perhaps I had been just sleepless. Who knows?

          The day had dawned with a spell of sleep enchanted in my mind. At 4am, my eyelids were feeling so heavy and I hardly desired to open them – not at any cost. My body was freezing to the bone marrow, so I dared not to get out of my cosy blanket. I covered myself a little bit more. I made sure my face disappears under the cozy blanket. I really did not want to get up. But I really had to! And why wasn’t I? I just did not want to. I did not even feel like I needed to go anywhere, for the bell alerting students to go for morning preps had already gone but I still felt I deserved some dose of the sleep. The truth is, I reall wanted to go but I never wanted to leave the cozy blanket, and there never was a way I was to go with this blanket in class. So I insisted on sleeping.

Some twenty minutes later…

“Boys!” I heard a voice calling out. It was teacher Lumbert’s. he usually woke us up to go for morning preps. “you are 45 minutes late for your morning preps,” he said. “And it is about to reach 5am. Carry your books and go to your respective reading rooms.”

Only a few boys had already left for the reading room, but the biggest number of us had remained “chilling” in the dormitory. Like dead bodies, we (those were in the dormitory) all lay in our beds, quiet and motionless, minding not about whether or not the one was talking to us were a teacher with more authority than us. We were not bothered at all. And what would he do anyway?  Beat us? Of course not. He actually had no right to even spank any of us lest he wins himself a reward of four days in slammer. Poor him, no matter how much we agitated him, he needed to play cool. But he wasn’t ready yet to give up. Not this time.

“Boys! Let us all go,” he repeated unwaveringly. “Go and look for your future.”

Three quarters of those who had remained left. But I and my two friends (Mandela and Junior) remained unmoved.

When teacher Lambert was gone, I again disappeared in my blanket and expected no one to bother my doozy sleep any more. Perhaps I was just beefed up by the presence of my comrades and the fact that if at all I were caught red handed in the dormitory at the wrong time, I would have company to share with the punishment. But that surely wasn’t something strong enough to cling on. I did not know that by then.

          A few minutes later, someone else walked in. Unlucky me, my bunk was the first right after the door, making me the first patient. In a more like merciless manner he scraped the blanket off my body. And guess who it was. It was Mr. Deman the head teacher.

Mr. Deman was a very notorious man, quite irascible though veneered in placidity. Students in the entire school normally called him Mr. Demon because his movements were quite so unpredictable. They were more of apparating and disapparating. He always appeared in those dark places were some bad boys would surge to drug themselves. Perhaps his springy feet aided his mysterious maneuver. And there I was with this same man, looking as if he were to pounce upon me.

“What are you still doing in the dormitory at this time?” he roared, glanced at me shortly, pulled out his phone and frowned on seeing the time it displayed. “Look!” exclaimed. “It is 5am and you are still in the dormitory!”

“Sir, I was not feeling well,” I lied. Of course I had to. If I didn’t figure out a way to lie and save my reputation, then would I be able to bear the beady eyes and the inquisitive questions of the administrators in the disciplinary committee of the school? So I needed to do all there was – if feasible anyway.

“Does that mean you remain sleeping in the dormitory?”

I had no answer for that.

“Joshua, you are a candidate,” he continued as he thoroughly checked all the beds while roaring a GET OUT for whoever he found buried in beddings. “You must at no cost remain in the dormitory. You are remaining with only two days to do your mock examinations and you are still behaving this way? No! all of you should go in my office for a punishment. I can’t tolerate that nonsense.”

        On our way to his office (us the six who had been caught dodging) I realized that one my friends was not amongst us. It is when I realized that I shouldn’t have thought that we were together. But it was too late to regret. There I was, the only fourth former among five first formers. It was really disappointing of me.

There in his office, ho told us to stand in the corridor until it reached 6am. And so did we. But it was the worst experience ever. All teachers who passed by the corridor stood and asked burning questions to me: what are you doing here?  what wrong did you do? Why are you so unserious? How was I even supposed to answer their questions? After 25 minutes, I had only one prayer:

Dear lord

Help me get out of this place

As soon as possible.

I promise

I will not do this again.

The thing was, I was just tired of being laughed at by the teachers and being recognized as the bad boy. But ever since, I realized I have a lot of things to pursue and achieve whereby I needed to sacrifice my time doing valuable to attain success. For the world wants victors and not failures.

JOSHUA PATRICK MAGEZI