EXAM FEVER!

 

Let me start this post with the saying "amaka does not squat in mushin but jogs in VI for nothing".

Exam, that thing that resets your brain, makes you sweat, bite your nails, transform you into a pastor and hold night vigils to cast and bind all those your village people who were dancing shoki when you failed WAEC the first time. You do all this in a bid to pass or get good grades. What exam does to people in my school would shock you, you think sey you sabi carry bomb, you never jam....some people would apply their yahoo yahoo skills on that day...all for one paper...i call all these Apor movements EXAM FEVER.

Let’s go back to the beginning where it all began.

During normal classes, the population of the class would be about forty students, people would rush the front seats like the lecturer would share "recharge cards" for them. Some would even fight over a seat they claimed to have reserved with a handkerchief or a piece of paper (all those tight jeans wearing, ojuju make up experts in school). Yemi would drop her handkerchief on a seat then seventeen, eighteen her way out of the class to go n show herself outside (feeling like a big girl), when she returns some minutes later, the first thing she sees is amaka's bag, heeeeey, wahala don come.... first thing she would do is laugh one mbgekeish laugh, next thing you would hear is ' hmmm, who is that bastard, who his that hediot, who be that blind person wey no get eye'....she would now turn to the guy or girl sitting closest to where she wan act her drama, 'excuse me, you no see me when i keep that seat', the guy or girl would then feign ignorance. As her drama continues, Amaka would now enter, and the usual Nigerian drama would ensue, they would trade words, throw threats like they can do jack shit, people would try to settle them but secretly hope they fight, finally both girls would calm down and go their seperate ways and go with the usual ' if not for, if not for'..... (If not for who please?)....

Oya class don start....immediately, they would all switch to default mode, which is 'BLACKBERRY MODE'...All them people fighting for front row seats won't hear a single word being said. Poor lecturer would talk and talk, sweat, drink from his small voltic water bottle, drop small small hints about potential exam questions but mbanu, they won't hear a word....all of them chatting and pinging, making their village people rejoice, dey happy say them go use their destiny drink pepper soup. Lecturer soon gets tired, dude checks his watch then asks ' any question?', that’s the only time they would lift their heads and reply like nursery school children ' NO SAH'... lecturer would then ask 'do you understand all i explained?', they would reply again 'YES SAH', if hin make mistake ask question, hehehehe...only maybe one overzealous student would answer or one of them '#beautyandbrains girls' would answer the question with something that would make the lecturer regret ever coming to class that day. After the class ends, some of them won't even know, you would hear things like ' the class don end'....' wetin the man talk'.....' abobi you understand wetin this man teach so?'....

Fast forward to exam day, chika and co are freaked out, wired and looking damn right crazy , all because of exam fever. All the dragon lady makeup is gone and the blackberry babes look like something amadioha rejected. Funny thing is they would all come to school without them weaves, troll nails and clown paint on their faces, it scares me at times, (these girls ought to give some notice before coming out). Anyways, back to the matter, the exam hall is full of students you've never seen before, but they are all writing the course. Weird part is that guy’s tush up more than girls during exams, i don't understand why. The hall buzzes like a hive full of olodorapatas ready to murder my dear English language in the course of writing their papers. Most people would go back and forth from the toilet, hiding scraps of papers in disgusting enclosed spaces while the brave ones who seem to have borrowed the liver of a dibia would hide said papers on their person. You would hear them guys saying 'na phone sure pass'. Some students would try to cram up some last minute bits of information they think would be a life saver in their exams.

Kor..... kor.....kor goes the sound of Mrs. invigilator's shoes,( we all have the notion that women anything are bad news, don’t know why, but it seems true, most women lecturers are pure undiluted evil, worse are women bosses, let me not even dive into that pool of drama, i would never come out). Anyways, she struts in with the words 'don't fuck with me' plastered all over her caked face, the words 'take out all your books' left her mouth in an authoritative manner, the scrambling and scuttling begins, everyone is trying to arrange themselves, establish alliances, in some minutes it ends and everyone is seated. The invigilator then announces ' if you have any incriminating material, bring it forward' (as if). After a long silence of everyone pretending not to have bombs on them, the papers are shared, and the exam begins, for at least three to four minutes the hall is quiet but like they say, there's always some quiet before a storm, and in this case the storm is a sea of broken English from the leaders of tomorrow. Outburst of ' chimoooo', 'yesu','ah don die', 'this man never teach us this thing before' and so on. 'Silence!!' Goes madam invigilator, the exam goes on and in twenty minutes, everyone has heard nature's call and needs to answer it with the urgency of a yoruba woman in labor. This goes on for a while until the most principled prick in the school strolls in with malpractice forms, also known as 'free unsolicited visas to your country or village'....everyone calms down, he stops the frequent urinations and tells them to discipline their bladders. The thing about Mr. Principles is he always knows where your bomb is and when to catch you red handed. Once, some dude had pleaded and pleaded to be let go (nature was calling him on his phone).Mr. principles let him go but followed him to the bathroom, secretly of course. The boy went in the stall and was checking answers on his phone when he got busted, Mr. principles took him back to the hall and was making him apply for the visa when the boy in anger blurted 'you were peeping me, why were you peeping me, don’t you know you can go to jail for that', it was funny to us but not to the unlucky boy.

The exam went on for a while but towards the end, when everyone thought they were lucky and Mr. principles was losing his touch, he struck, two boys who were about to submit were sitting on their bombs and forgot about them, as they stood to submit, well, you can just imagine the grin on Mr. principles face, just like fashola's own. Almost immediately, another culprit was caught, a last minute crammer had scribbled some answers on her hands, major stupidity, how many marks was that going to fetch?...hmph.. sad part about all the visas being issued was that the old/matured students who looked like parents of kids in secondary schools never got caught despite the fact that they carried the biggest bombs of all, i mean, this mama is hiding a big book in her buluku gown, papa James has the handout in his coat pockets, the invigilators see them but ignore, guess they feel like them old people don't have time to read everything or don't deserve to be punished. At the end of the exam, tears are shed, laughter is heard, and visas are granted, empty threats are issued and so on. Exam fever, if only there was a way to treat this disease.