Knowing: Chideziri POV

There are pieces of white paper all over the class, it is like someone made confetti from another's note book. I sure am glad it isn't mine though, because i would really hate to show up in school with a sharp machete.

 It is break-time, not recess, because recess is what you say in America. Recess, is what you say in Americanized–Nigerian montessori schools where big men send their children to learn history and French and Poetry.

 For us, it is break-time. That obnoxiously short, time-racing period between late morning and early afternoon when teachers decide it is time for you to breathe something that does not include a totally irrelevant part of the human anatomy, a set of increasingly confusing mix of numerals, or a language you speak everyday but never seem to grasp completely.

Was that tasking?...sorry.

Today, it is also the period when the class is agog. Apparently, Dike Uzochukwu got into a fight with Ahmed Tombe. If you know Dike like i do, you will totally understand why Ahmed is at the last seat at the farthest corner of the class room,with his head pressed to the desk, his face pointed to the reflective tiled ground. 

Dike is a beast.

He is something in between hulk and bruce banner; not human, not completely deranged either. To put it simply, he is the guy you don't pick a fight with, pissed or not. 

Did you ever see that meme on 2go where every person in a class falls somewhere? The sketch guy, the queen bee, the hyperactive, the gossip girls, the three friends, the sports guy, the silent one, the nerd.

Yea, dike is the sports guy a.k.a i will beat your ass for little reason, just because i can.

I would really love to say he is an arrogant over-pumped skull, but he happens to speak the bitter truth; he will beat your ass if you try him, be you giant or demi-god.

Ok. Maybe I am hyping him a little too much.

Obviously, while i was gone from the class for the quarter of half of a millisecond to buy snacks from tuck-shop, Ahmed referred to Dike's mother in a joke, and seconds later they were furiously exchanging blows; that is after Dike had asked him to apologize or " see what i will do to you today". 

Everybody has an ego i guess.

 Ahmed's got him a split lip and a bruising right eye. 

Typical me to miss that fight. I call it my " two-seconds curse", reason being that the moment i step out of a place, the things actually worth seeing start happening.

Ss1, when Celine, unbuttoned her school shirt all the way to her cleavage over a dare- i was in the staff room, doing the obnoxious job of being the class prefect.

 Celine with high-cheek bones, a sophisticated air about her, a slender body and an even more slender voice, took off her shirt! What are the odds that could have happened. And when it actually happens to happen, i am AWOL. Maybe that's why i vehemently hate school posts now. I don't know what was more irritating, the fact that other guys saw her that way, or the fact that i missed the show. The main thing is, i was bristling while others were catcalling and whistling.

Or is it the day Sir Eric caught David passing a paper love-note to the next seat?. I missed that too!. Of course the names of the note's writer and the "writee" to which it was passed never came out.

 It's a Little Feats Academy thing.

 We never talk, even when we are paying the price for someone else's crime. That is the exact reason why the fight never got out, not with boys ever ready to avoid a mass punishment.

Seeing jaunty Ahmed silent is as unnerving as having a double barrel gun pointed in my face. He is the class clown, he is that sort of person that never sulks or broods, is never out of jokes, or the energy to crack them.

 Dike is at his desk,the second one at the mid row, surrounded by admirers and people drolling over his prowess at egelege. 

He's so tall and bulky that he makes everyone else resemble stick figures.

Sometimes i loathe him, and those few almost-none-existent moments when i do not, i am in awe of him. I wonder how it will feel to storm Dike's chair and tumble both him and his fans, and then knock him out when he comes at me. I wonder how it will feel to become the class hero.

It will feel goooooood. That's for sure.

*

The walk home from school is not a long one, at least not if you have walked that route as many times as i have. It involves lots of sun in the harmattan, and heavy indigo clouds in the rainy season ever threatening to rain down watery missiles of silver from above, a familiar line of houses, wood crafted stalls, even the green, blue and yellow colours of the community police station. 

You would think i would get some lone time to process these new confusing attraction to a total stranger, but no.

Most times i prefer to walk alone. But company doesn't hurt; at least, not all the time. Today, however, it does. The squad is with me; cheesy name right? Guess what, i am made of cheese....that didn't quite come out right. 

And they are laughing and talking about the fight, because it has become the fight. (they never did see John cena versus Big show in the 2000's, did they?).

 You have not guessed the worst of it: Ahmed is part of the squad, and the growing murderous look on his angular face says there is about to be a round two of "the fight"; a particularly bloody round two, that is.

"Ahmed say na like this" Abe says in pidgin, his arms are bent like a chicken's, and he uses them to punch the air dramatically.

Pascal is laughing, he laughs so hard that he has to stop and hold his stomach, doubling over in hysteria.

Chantelle joins in " when Dike put him on the ground and started punching him, he said it's–-ha! hey! Ah! Um! A!". She pronounces the name as Dyke instead of Di-ke.

 The group almost dies of laughter, that is excluding Ahmed and I. Pascal stumbles off the sidewalk toward the main road, Abe is leaning on an electricity pole at the side of a store, his thick shoulders convulse with laughter. Chantelle breaths comes out in hefty heaves. Ironically, she is the only girl in our "five-man" squad, and i would rather not see her maimed or on a stretcher.

"Oya e don do" , i say, trying to diffuse the situation fast enough to prevent a debut from Hulk–Ahmed.

"It is enough" i say. 

And it is enough to settle them for a while. Pascal is still shuddering with laughter.

" Chidi, you really missed o" Abe tells me, his eyes twinkling with mischievous light.

Abe—Abraham was the  first person i meet when i came to Little feats. He was walking out of the co-ordinator's office with his father while we were going in, dressed in an extra large crimson hoodie and knickers. He looked up from his Infinix long enough to throw me a quick nod. I recognized him in class the next morning, but unlike me, he had a crowd of friends around him by school-over.

Pascal walked forward and slung an arm across Ahmed's shoulder,and then he said

 " But Ahmed is a strong man, at least he fought valiantly"

He jabbed a fist into the empty air "With honour." He makes it sound like Ahmed is a mortal kombat character.

" Fought valiantly my foot" Chantelle retorted "More like received a valiant beating".

"If it was you, chantelle, you would not even last five seconds"

" That's because i am a girl, and secondly, five seconds is better than Ahmed's two-and-half seconds world record"

I laugh now, holding it in any longer will give me abs.

"Oh! So now you being a girl is your excuse, if it were something else you will be a full fledged feminist" I fire back.

" Unlike you people, we don't need to resort to violence when we feel threatened, we are civilized."

"You people" two words have never tasted so similar to bitter leaf juice before. 

"I don't blame you, i can't blame you. It's not your fault that you don't have sense." I jab. And miss. 

Chantelle snorts, and shows me her tongue like a thirsty puppy. It's pink and white and grainy.

My face contorted into a grimace. It makes her laugh. I am in no mood to follow Chantelle down that dark dirt path of feminism, patriarchy and misogyny, so i settle for shooting her the dirtiest look i can muster.

Truth be told, i can't thank her enough for changing the subject.

Pascal's arm is like a large brown boa around Ahmed's neck. Pascal loves doing that; giving bear-sized-deeper-life hugs. Out of nowhere, he just slings an arm across your shoulders and reels you in. He lives for them, taurus-ass.

That's how he greets you in the morning at assembly line, even when you are on duty, in class, at every 'bro moment' he can salvage, he gives you a side hug. it'setimes it's like he is comforting you in advance.

I really could use those hugs before every maths period. 

He was the second person i started talking to at school, and at the end of that day  he bundled me into a massive bro hug like he had known me my whole life.

It was corny as anything, but i needed that. He's the bro my mumu guardian angel switched for Tobi. But it's okay, i can deal with tough love.

Ahmed shoves him off, but they walk side by side, so close to each other that their elbows brush.

See that's the thing about the squad; they laugh at you when you crash, and they'll still be there, to help you up.

 I can see Ahmed's profile now, there is a smile curled at the tip of his lip. I am smiling too.