Episode 05 - Francis

 

One could not but notice his anxiety: from the tiny little sweats that acervated to form droplets of oily waters; to the shakiness, plus tremors, dancing his hands to and fro. His legs were not left untouched too. The cover of his pen was already hurt, having suffered damage due to an unintentional tensed clenching of his teeth on the innocent rubber. The answer script was tainted with water. Despite the enormity of the paper, it was only his name that he had written. 

As he raised up his head, what he saw were serious minded, roughly grin-faced individuals whose fast paced pens and sharp pencils danced rigorously to the tune of their mind. Each one swiped his booklet with such dexterity and it continuously made a solo for the calm, cool and serene atmosphere in the hall. All hands were filled with inky imprints and their heads were bent, inclined adjacent to their papers. 

Francis is a Yoruba demon who schooled in the city of Akure. He was widely acclaimed as an erudite scholar by his school mates due to his outstanding performances as his coruscate scores gave hope to a score board which was most filled with ninety percent failures. 

He had mastery of his Physics; he was a good chemist with many distinctions in English Language. His classmates would always look to his Math notes for answers as his biology never suffered any shame too. 

Having below a seventy was a bad score for him. It was either he cried or felt sad throughout that day. No one in his school ever matched his brilliance and his intelligent spirit. Besides, he was a good midfielder, a chess player and a handsome young man. His strolling across the classroom brought light and comfort to the peeking eyes and the gazing gossipers. He was destined obviously to be great and was good at achieving that. 

How he suddenly became a dullard in this competition became a burden to him. He had heard stories of how difficult the "Mathematical Association of Nigeria" competition questions were, but this was not just difficult but also impossible. It was as if the devil and his angels were written with ink, barking angrily at his confused soul. 

The questions were more difficult than looking for a cure to a novel virus. He sighed as he saw the clock tick tock, passing away slowly like an evening breeze comforting a beach. He saw his prestige and ego pass away slowly as there was nothing he could do about it. Just fifty questions and he had answered none. The ones he knew were a handful and wasn't even sure of their correctness. 

As he bowed down his head in humility and muttered silent words of prayer, his mind took him to those memories where the principal and the staffs of his college were hailing him. He just knew that such was a baseless adulation. He hissed, blessing them with hateful curses. 

He looked at the book and pressed the calculator again but the answers were still wrong. As he flipped through the booklet, his mind was divided. A school of thought wondered why the questions were Further Mathematics when he was actually expecting a simpler version. Another group wondered why the Further Math questions were so harder than the ones they did in class.

Then he remembered! His Math teacher, Mr Korede, who doubled as the physics and Further Math tutor, was said to have graduated with a degree in agricultural technology. No wonder his capacity to deliver was so low and lacking. 

Finally, he realized that he was only a local champion whose worth and value was to be multiplied by half if he wants to compete on a universal scale. He had always thought he was the best, but he was only few yards away from being average. 

He looked through the window and saw Mr. Korede calling in the phone. He was a man with such sincere smiles and optimistic words, but he was already disappointed in him. He looked at the man with a bloody look as the hunted would look at the hunter. If only he could strangle the man was the thought that constantly stayed in his head. 

"You have 30 minutes more." The supervisor said. 

He closed his eyes to meditate on the words of his mother. 

"You can do it," she would always say. 

He opened his eyes and made a commitment that none of the answers will he leave untouched. 

Whether by flight, I don't know; whether by foot, I know not. However, within thirty minutes, the eraser, pencil and the calculator — they all suffered harm as he finished the questions within the allocated time. 

He laughed as the supervisor collected his answer sheet. He stood up and went out to meet his teacher. 

"Weldone, young man," He said. 

As he flipped through the questions, he could not hide his consternate face as he knew practically nothing. 

Francis looked at him with disgust and contempt but he lowered his gaze as the man raised up his head and walked away from him. 

Francis could not but be dull as he cogitated on what happened. He already knew his grade would be a disaster and it would damage his golden reputation. But then, he had no choice but to leave everything into the hands of his maker. 

Today, he is a graduate of Electrical Engineering from the University of Jos, a First Class student to be precise. He didn't make top three in that competition though he never checked what he had. He pleaded that it should be buried in the midst of nowhere, forever. 

I know what he had, as his seatmate and friend then. I am not telling anyone. I promised him.

Written by: Jegede Samuel Whyte 

Edited by: Kolawole Precious Oluwasetemi 

Copyright: Livingwitness