This is the story of an event that happened in a catholic school in Nigeria, events which I witnessed and was a part of, and which have never been resolved till date. Names have been changed, but the tale is true, and told as I remember it.
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
7:15am
I stood at the door and calmly gazed at the boys inside St. Patrick’s dormitory, twirling my heavy, iron chain key holder around my finger as I always did. They saw me and hurried out, except for the boy whose duty I knew was to sweep and clean the room. I nodded at my classmate in his angle then moved to the next dormitory and repeated the same thing.
It was time for morning duty, and as the school’s current labour prefect, this was mine –ensuring that everyone got out of their dorms and got to their assigned places of work, then making sure that the work was actually done. I got to the last dormitory on my block –St. Paul’s, which was the on the other end of the block from mine, and on the upper floor, and waited until the dormitory quickly emptied out again. I glanced across the volleyball court to the other block and saw my partner, Benedict doing his job chasing the students out in his own unique way –Bene, though shorter and stockier than I was, was usually more vocal and full of angry energy. I nodded, satisfied, and walked into St. Paul’s.
St. Paul has a very unique position among the dormitories. It stands at the very corner of the students’ living environs. From it, the entirety of the other dormitory block can be seen, as well as the kitchen and part of the refectory. The school’s reservoir, main water taps and small laundry space were almost directly in front of it, the school’s old toilets at the side, and the bathrooms behind. It was an almost perfect vantage point for watching the student populace, and because of this, was always the assigned dorm of the head Senior Prefect. Always, except for this term. The person I wanted to see had been a senior prefect, but no longer had a post and was currently free of responsibility, which was actually kind of enviable. He and I had served as assistant senior prefects just the previous term.
The thing about Theodore was, he was cool. One of the more spiritual persons in my class, he wasn’t the goody-two-shoes, bible-toting, everyone-must-be-perfect type. He was always very laid back and relaxed, but at the same time, very strict. He commanded an extremely strong air of respectability from the entire school –juniors laughed with him but didn’t dare cross him, the priests and other members of staff respected his input and assigned him important, high responsibility tasks. Even we, his classmates, saw him as one of the more mature, wiser ones. Ours was different though –we had grown with him through all the awkward moments from way back when. But there was nothing awkward about him now. He actually had a set of custom dumbbells he worked out with at least thrice a week.
I strolled towards his angle. He, of course, had no morning duty. None of my classmates did.
“Theo!” I greeted.
“Ogivs,” he responded, calling me by my nickname. “How’s it going?”
“Cool, jare.” I entered his angle and checked the bathrooms through his window to see if any boys were stealing a quick moment to take their baths. I saw no one. Unfortunately, that also meant those working there weren’t on site either. I sighed.
“How far –is there labour today?” He asked, changing out of his uniforms into casual clothing.
“Yes,” I replied. “But I saw Fr. Francis talking to Miko after Mass, there might be free day afterwards.” On Saturdays, the students usually did more intense cleaning after breakfast, then had a couple of hours to themselves to do anything but engage in sports before afternoon prayers, lunch and siesta. However on a free day, all those activities were waived. Students could participate in sports or whatever from whenever it started till the day ended by 6:15pm.
I plopped down on Theo’s bed. He glanced down at me in mild surprise. Not that I didn’t usually come to his angle, I just didn’t do to during morning duty unless there was something important.
“What’s up?” He asked.
I scanned through the dorm to make sure no one was listening. The sweeper wasn’t in. I turned back to him. “Have you heard what happened yesterday, with Igwe Stephen and some others?”
“Oh,” he replied. “You mean the Visionaries?”
I frowned, surprised. It was the first time I heard them referred to by that term.
The Visionaries.
I nodded. Apparently, Theo had heard about it. I realised that I should have expected that –even without a prefectship position, he always had his finger on the pulse of things.
“Augustine came to me yesterday,” I said. “At first I didn’t even know what he was going on about. What do you think?”
Theo paused and leaned his tall, wiry frame on his locker. He fixed me with a shrewd, thoughtful look. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t thought much of it. But strange things do happen, it wouldn’t be the first time, and no one can say how God works. But nothing is confirmed until it’s confirmed, and these are not things that should be trifled with. That’s my main issue –these children are going to start trying to take advantage of it. They’ll start playing, joking and lying about the whole thing. Igwe should not have done it, or at least continued without the priests’ knowledge. He should have met Fr. Julius immediately. Instead, they’ve gone around spreading stories, basking in fame. That’s never what visions, or apparitions, were about.” He shrugged. “Well, let’s see how it goes.”
“I was wondering if I should take it to Fr. Julius myself,” I mused.
“You don’t have to,” he replied. “Sooner or later, it’ll get to them.” He reached outside his window and grabbed the towel hanging there. “Me, I’m just going to play my games today. All day sports! Oshey!”
Click Here for the continuation of the story in Visionaries #7.
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