Gbagaun!Gbagaun!! Gbagaun!!! A deafening sound rudely woke me up.
“It’s time for supper.” Senior Tunde announced. “Everyone, move to the dining hall.”
I yawned and rubbed my eyes. It was just a few minutes after six, and yet it seemed as if it was already 8.00 pm! The stamping of feet from the other students intermingled with the sound of the bell.
Feeling slightly dizzy, the challenge before me was how to descend from my bunk.
“Are you deaf or something?’ Senior Tunde blared at me. “What are you still staring at?”
“How do I come down from the bunk?” I quivered from the effect of the fan coupled with the cold weather.
“Who lifted you there in the first place?” His eyes roved towards the short ladder attached to the bed.
The scales fell off my eyes immediately. Slowly, I sloped from the bed without much ado and strolled to the dining hall.
“For the food we are about to eat, we thank you, oh Lord.” The food prefect prayed.
“Amen!” the hungry and excited students chorused.
The narrative I heard that boarding schools do not serve good meals vanished the moment I spotted plates of jellof rice arranged on the tray. The aroma of the food filled the whole hall, and I salivated like a hungry lion. I watched as the Food prefect served the food, starting with the seniors, until he got to the juniors. While I waited impatiently for my turn, I noticed that the plates of rice remaining on the tray were fewer than the rest of the students who were yet to be served.
“Senior, ebi n pa wa o!” some of the students grumbled.
“What are those students saying?” Alfred, one of my roommates, asked me.
“They are hungry,” I replied. “I don’t think the food would be enough for everyone.”
“Quiet, everyone! The Food prefect quietened the angry students. “We have enough food to go round.”
I watched with eagerness as the prefect dashed into the kitchen and then returned with another tray, but this time around, watery beans!
I stared down at the meal and my stomach churned. The palm oil stood apart like a warrior over the mass of water which covered the beans. Although not from an affluent home, I can bet that Maami would never prepare her beans that way. I ran a swift glance around me and discovered that I was not the only one undertaking the microscopic view of the food.
“Don’t you like the food?” A voice behind me jerked me from my limbo. I turned and discovered that it was Haliru, one of my hall mates. Quietly, I shoved my plate towards him.
“So what are you going to eat now?” The sincerity in his voice jabbed me. “Why not just eat a little instead?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not all that hungry,” I lied, eyeing the jellof rice in front of one of the seniors.
“Oloju kokoro!” the senior student scolded me. “I am going to deal with you after supper.”
My heart sank! This was not what I bargained for in a boarding school.
