One fateful day inside exams week, a week I was close to a brink of failure and was averted by a God sent individual, and the aversion was to determine my three consecutive awards. I came with a phone in my caftan trousers' pocket meant to be taken for repair, the sensor had broken and could not operate properly, a business phone which 75% of the business relied upon. I had in mind that after the particular exams, I would take it to Tsohuwar Kasuwa inside town. The exams course that never begged for expo due to its nature, Advanced English Composition ENGL 204.
As the exams began, I composed an essay and a speech: as the outgoing president of the association, write a farewell speech as the question asked, I began writing smoothly.
Two reasons I didn't drop the phone on the pulpit stand of LT9: the broken sensor and the course nature, thinking that even if the phone was caught, it could not operate, so the notion of malpractice would not be charged against me. As I was writing, the phone was silent and tied inside my trousers and its shape could be seen from afar, "hey ! What is that in your pocket" the faculty of Arts' exams officer who crossed the desk from my left asked furiously, '' it's my phone ``I replied innocently "bring it" I surrendered the phone and continued writing.
As I was writing, I didn't know the magnitude and intensity of the recklessness I had committed, "cika masa" was the phrase I heard from afar, the fifth row from the pulpit while writing, uttered by the same man after he had pressed the power button and saw that the phone was on. I finished the composition successfully, crossed all the unused pages before submitting, this was the instruction always given when invigilators realised that some students started submitting. I crossed all the pages and went to submit, that was when I started realising the intensity. I submitted the script and was asked to write a statement, to be frank, then, I didn't know what that meant.
"He said you should write a statement" one supervisor said who was collecting the booklets. In a jerking voice I asked, I should write what ? "That which happened between you" he said. He was a lecturer from Religious department, Islamic Studies. He looked a bit heavy on his caftan and zanna cap, he was just executing the order.
I went back to where I sat, I wrote a statement precisely what transpired, I included the phone model and its state of health. Thank God, Mrs Bilkisu Arabi was there (the God sent). She taught us a course in 100L, she could bear witness if I could commit malpractice or not. My eyes began to wide, as the man brought out a paper filling my matric number and the course code on the paper, "what have you done to yourself Ahmadu" she asked in a sympathetic voice, she was disturbed seeing the man filling the form. I was so tense I did not even know what to do again. Some of my colleagues who witnessed the scene, lost confidence in what they were writing. "Wait for me outside" said Mrs Bilkisu, I couldn't understand.
I went outside straight to meet the Education faculty exams officer, unfortunately he was not around, I couldn't remember I was told to stay outside, the crack in my academic career could have been mended instantly, I began to lose conscience. On the way I met a friend who we shared the same faculty he was from Islamic studies, I narrated everything that happened. "Did he fill the form" he asked, yes I answered, the change in his face carried a heavy impression that needed to be expatiate, I now realised the magnitude of the danger I dived into.
I called the exams officer on the phone and greeted him, bowing a bit. "I went to a supervisor," he answered. Like a blink of an eye, the story had gone round the school, especially the colleagues we shared the same faculty with had carried the news, everyone a freelance journalist at his own pace.
I waited for the E.O for more than two hours, I sat on one of the gossip cement benches around the faculty agape, all sorts of bad thoughts construed and heating every angle of my head. Would I be expelled from the school ? This is two hundred level, my friends will move ahead and graduate leaving me behind. Must I have to write JAMB again if I am expelled ? What should I tell home, all these and other inimical thoughts, ruminating between hope and despair.
The exams officer arrived and drove to the parking space, a white 406 Peugeot always clean with the glass tinted. I walked towards him and collected his shoulder bag and entered his office. At that moment, Mrs Bilkisu was searching for me after the exams to go and sort it out once and for all, she didn't have my number she must have called, I trusted her, even if she had it, my phone was seized. I narrated all that transpired in detail and the reason why I came with the phone, the business phone. "Were you caught stealing" he asked veraciously, No, I answered. "This is what we tell you students always, you can't heed to simple instruction, Ok you can go for now, I will inquire further" thank you sir, please help me I managed to say innocently.
The E.O was a man of principle, he would never subscribe to a malice or vicious act, this was his reputation everyone knew about him. There was a time I barged into his office without knocking, a day to our 100L first semester examination, I was a fresh student, not knowing how registered courses were arranged in the individual columns, I didn't carefully check mine, and there was a mistake, one course was not added in my exams card. "Kai !" He shouted in a Hausa accent "from where, how dare you barge in here without knocking is that how you are taught in your house" he asked a series of intermittent questions to resettle my brain, sorry sir I managed to interrupt within his questions. "What happened?" He asked again, my exam card has issues, a course is missing there and I've registered it.'' What is your number" I gave him, he rectified and reprint a new exam card. From there on we became close, he used to stop by to transact with me in my kiosk buying recharge card.
***
The day of fright and despair elapsed, I went home, the negative thoughts increased in my mind, I had a sleepless night, though the next day, I had no exams. I narrated all that happened to my mom, she magnified the whole situation "damn it ! how dare you, you want to send yourself away from school, you want to waste our two years" she quarrelled, I managed to absorb the pressure and quench the situation showing that there was no cause for alarm.
Anytime I was reading for the exams, the whole issue reignited and interrupted, it affected my performance. "I heard that you were caught with a phone in the exam hall" ? One friend asked me on my way to the Library, true I answered, "May you scale through this storm". These were the kind of prayers I received anytime I met with colleagues that were aware of the happenings.
I began to lose weight, going lean.
Four days elapsed, I went to the English department, looking for an open office, to narrate to any available lecturer. Perhaps something should be done or at least enlighten me of a step to take. I was lucky enough to have at least a good relationship with the lecturers in the department. One office was opened, lucky enough, knocked and entered. I met a lecturer who taught us Orature in a hundred level. I greeted him and told him that there was a problem. "Ok I can hear go on what happened" I narrated to him, he heaved a slight sigh, he must be thinking that this student is playing with malpractice, he bent down to the last drawer on in his table and brought out a paper, it was a malpractice form, "did he fill this kind of form" he asked, yes I replied and nodded, "honestly there is nothing I can do, once this form is filled it means the end of a student" his remarks stirred up again the negative thoughts I had as if to slump. I went out walking at the mercy of God the Almighty. A half student who was still writing exams. I began to check all the notice boards faculty, Arts and Education if I might see a list of expelled students, so that I did not continue with exams in vain, no names placed on the boards, unless one kind of bulletin or another, some half tore.
One inner voice among the voices within me whispered, it was the religious voice I guessed, "do fast a three day fasting", I found that very pivotal, I began on the 10th day, considering the days did not fall into Friday, because religiously is forbidden. At midnight I would wake up to perform supplications seeking for divine intervention. During the day, if a beggar came to pass I gave alms with the intention to avert the ongoing predicament, not knowing which among the deeds would be answered and foster the eviction from the hook.
On the 11th day, I went to English department again to meet Mal Abdulkadir Adamu who taught us in 100L and still in 200L, Mal there is a small issue I want to tell you, after I greeted him, "Ok unfold it then" I narrated everything. The kind of fight and quarrel he rendered that afternoon as if my mom had phoned him before, he almost uttered the same thing, he even took it personal, " come again ! You said a small issue, and by the way since when" ? He wanted to confirm whether I meant eleven days or I was saying yesterday. "how would you have this huge problem over eleven days and keep it all alone, how daft ! Do you think you have anything to tell and convince the panel, if you wait to face it ? haba Ahmad as if you are not a language student, I feel like hitting you right now, who knows about it ?" He inquired, Mrs Bilkisu, she was there that day, I replied blaming myself within. "ok check on her in the office if she was around" I went out and took two steps up of a sloping tiles in the same corridor of the department, I knocked and found she was around, I summoned her attention linking it to Mal Abdulkadir she came and we entered together.
"So Ahmadu" she began "I am not that important, I can't even tell you to stay and heed to the advice right" I shook my head left and right, and answered no Ma, I've lost control that day not even know what to do. "Malama, what can we do now" he asked, "maybe he should excuse us first" I went outside and waited. During that period, she must have told him the state of my existence in the campus, perhaps I was expelled or had been rendered justice with mercy. I came back after some long minutes, knocked and entered, they concluded that I should come back the next day and hear the feedback. I went home still pondering.
I broke the fast after the sunset and supplicated. Seeing Mrs Bilkisu and Mal Abdulkadir in his office, coupled with the response of our exams officer gave me kind of relief, sensing hope, but at the same time, having fear of the malpractice form that had been filled. I kept praying and even solicited some of my friends to pray for me, some I told them the reason I needed the prayer, some I just told them please include me in your prayers.
I was walking on the street going to the mosque not even a prayer time, following one guy who we always seat together and share views, sometimes going contrary, he suddenly turned back violently against me, held his fingers tight to form a huge fist and began to throw punches towards my brow, his eyes turned red, as I was moving my head left and right to escape the punches, he relaxed his fingers and twisted his thumb and the middle fingers indicating we meet next time, showing anguish of not hitting me… Then I heard the first prayer's call at dawn through the speaker as I was laying on the mattress in our room, I woke up and sat at the edge. So it was a dream I murmured, an omen of eviction perhaps from the ongoing predicament. I stretched my hands, marrying all my fingers towards the roof for some seconds and groaned a bit. I went for ablution and prayed, then went to the mosque for two raka'a which marked the first prayers of the day.
After the prayers, and the morning azkars, around 15 minutes to 7am, I was on my way to school to hear the feedback, on reaching there around 6:57am, the departmental entrance was not opened, I sat behind the edifice of school of postgraduate studies which English Department faced, from that time on, till 1:00pm none of them appeared. I went to pray and came back to the same spot. The man who gave the order to fill the malpractice form came to pass through the short passage from LT3 towards the English department, I greeted him and he answered in recognition of my face.
Around 3:35 the Asir prayer could be heard from far and near, I went again and prayed, I came back still checked on them, none of them was around.
***
There was a time one man who rented a shop in our balcony, came to meet me in my kiosk narrating to me that some people told him that, the way I behave and the mindset I had before I was admitted into the university, will surely strike against me to misbehave and I won't make it to graduation. That sounded like a curse in my inner ears, I held those words in my left hand palm. There is a Yoruba philosophy that says, if you hold an advice in your left hand you won't miss place it or swallow it in food than to hold it in your right hand, meaning you won't forget it. Therefore, they were kept in my left palm.
As I sat, after the Asir prayer, these words resonated in my mind, merging together with the current situation, they gave birth to an inspiration where I composed a poem on the spot inside a half A4 paper titled IN VAIN. That day, the two lectures we had scheduled with none of them came, and my phone was in the Faculty of Arts since the day it was seized, I could have called them. I went home and then opened my kiosk late evening to make sells for the rest of the day.
Day after, I went back again, and met Mal, Abdulkadir. He told me that from the Arts faculty they've suppressed the issue, and my phone would be given back to me after the exams. That was the day the last paper would be held in the school entirely. I had finished my exams before then.
The phones that were seized during exams week from different departments were more than 30. I went there that day since 6am. It was on Friday, some students started gathering there. In spite of my early arrival, I met a lady student in the surrounding of the Faculty of Art and social sciences' board room, where students who committed one crime or the other faced a panel.
The lady was said to have forgotten a written mathematical formula in her palms, as she went to submit her booklet in the exams room, the supervisor saw it she was caught, and asked to come and face the panel.
Around 10am students whose phones were seized had gathered, everyone narrating how his phone was seized, we were there up to the time the lady was summoned around 10:30am, she was inside facing the panel up to around 1:00pm. There was a point in time when one of the panelists came out from the room and went to the other room and brought a school constitution, he went back to the room, this gave almost all of us the impression that hardly this lady could convince this panel without her being expelled, she was expelled eventually.
Mine almost sounded the same with her, because among us none of them reported that he wrote a statement or filled a malpractice form. Students anywhere in numbers must not gather without jokes, anytime during those hours, a joke was cracked. I only laughed a little, because I knew the fire was burning deep inside me. Thinking negatively that, it must be my turn to face the panel, I began to draft the words I would use before them and all sort of excuses that might help me scale through, then I remembered that a constitution was brought into the room, and there must be a rule that prohibited students from coming with phone into exams hall, if that is read against me, I would be gone.
One of the panelists brought our issue as they were all set to depart, the session seemed over, all held their files alongside bottle waters, cracking jokes in the boardrooms, one could hear the echo of their voices like national assembly when plenary. A voice from the echoing sound summoned us, "hey ! You who came with phones to exams hall" we all trooped in together and the chairman of the panel began, "you know that it's prohibited to come with a phone, and this would be your last warning, if you are caught again, I swear you are gone" he sounded serious, one of them intruded "by the way which department are you from" pointing to each of us and we all mentioned our departments ``thank God none of them is from sociology department'' one woman intruded, they all busted laughing. I was told she was the vice chairlady of the panel, she was a bit tall and fair in complexion.
I heaved a huge sigh, it was now I believed that, I was out of the hook, and all my prayers were answered. I was not expelled at last but placed on the school black list. As we went to collect our phones, it was already the jum'at time, the Imam had arrived and we could hear the sermon, any moment from now, it would commence. After the prayers, we returned, we were asked to write an undertaking notes, which registered our list in the black list, we were all given the phone and we dispersed.
From there on, anytime I was about to enter into exams hall, I would ensure I cross checked all implicative objects surrounding, my phones would be inside a bag of one of my friends, and on the desk, I will ensure all the paper either relevant or otherwise would be taken off me and where I would be seated.
After some weeks, result was placed, I checked mine and found that I carried over the course, I already had it in mind, hardly to go scot free, perhaps when Mrs Bilkisu met him on my behalf, he pardoned me conditionally: removing my booklet out and tore it alongside the malpractice form. The booklet that if marked, doubtless would be an A grade, meanwhile a booklet in absent, is a student absent, and absent is equals to carry over. Thank God, it only ended a carry over, I still had a chance to resit the exams later in the last semester of my stay in the university, because, the next session second semester, we would be off for Teaching Practice, what if I was expelled, I would have been a school drop out starting afresh from the JAMB.
The aversion from the brink of only God knew where the failure would lead to, gave birth to a Best Muslim Graduating Student from the department, an award which was given annually by the MSSN in the school. Not only that, in 2018, I won the first prize position in poetry competition senior category (the poet of the year Gombe State) accompanied with Hundred Thousand Naira. Then award from Creative Club Gombe State University. These successes recorded had a direct link to my stay in the university, had it been I was expelled it would have been a story for another day.
Having someone who cares for one with no direct relationship only student-teacher or any other relationship that could help avert the storm that may affect the entire life of an individual, these kind of people are rear in the society and Mrs Bilkisu is one of them, not by mere words on the street but in practice, this accounts for the concrete inscription in the heart of the helped; holding such person in left hand palm and this finds special place in the heart to hold such kind of God sent individual with high esteem, prestige and utmost respect.
Ahmad Murtala
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