Random Recollections 6
“Young boy..."😅
When the Jungle was a Jungle!
Just going through my files and came across these:
Attached:
1. Letter of admission (result of exam and interview).
2. Fees breakdown and Prospectus
3. MBJ Code of Conduct.
I wrote my entrance exam at CKC Parish, Aba. I vividly recall the presence of Bro. Mark Omede (his name and phone numbers appears at the bottom of the Fees breakdown document).
The first time I heard the word "truant" was from the lips of Rev. Bro. Vincent Abadom, the then Principal and currently the Provincial Superior of the Marist Schools in Nigeria (I stand to be corrected).
A few of us had escaped from campus during school hours to go to HopeVille and "chill" without permission (which wasn't uncommon). I should still be in JSS1 or JSS2 then.😃
I can't recall exactly how we were caught but I just remember kneeling in front of the Principals office for a while thinking about my life.😅 He soon came out; whipping us with his tongue, then with his long, bold, curvy, angry looking canes that couldn't resist ripping our backs!!!😂
Anyway, that didn't stop me from engaging in "truancy" afterwards. I wasn't a fan of classrooms; I suppose I've always been an unconventional learner. HopeVille was our escape from that boredom and "hunger". We started "sorting" the security men at the gate for occasional passages too. Something about contraband snacks hits differently, you know!😃
By the way, the phrase: "Young boy" didn’t exactly emanate from him, but Bro. Vincent surely used it a lot to get a students attention, commence a reprimand, etc. His announcements of suspensions or expulsions at the Assembly ground also started with "Young boy". It was always fun mimicking his sentences starting with "Young boy".
One of the most remarkable souls I ever came across in my 7 years in MBJ was Rev. Bro. Isaac Ali. He was everybody's favourite. Heart of gold; voice of an Angel. From caring for the sick and injured, to signing permissions as the Dean of Students for students to go home, to moulding us into excellent basket ball players... you name it!
A short while after, Bro. Onwuasanya became the Director. Anger, shouts, brute corporal punishments... my entire suspensions were under Bro. Onwuasanya. One lasting phrase from him I still keep to heart was: "Do good, anyways!"
Three suspensions couldn't stop me. An eventual expulsion kind of did. This Charles you see today; his journey began earnestly after the expulsion and subsequent readmission on the condition of repeating the penultimate class which I had excelled tremendously... This was all Bro. Ifeanyi Mbaegbu He broke me into bits and remoulded me... I had lost everything; in him, through him, I acquired everything. My biggest enemy turned to my biggest ally.
I recall being hungry (more than once) - because I couldn't eat the food served at the refectory - and going to his house to knock and tell him "Bro., I'm hungry". He will ask me to go eat in the refectory and I will refuse till he gives me something to eat. Occasionally, I'll sit in his parlour and watch the television. He listened to me, treated me with respect and gave a chance to be myself... You see, eventhough we were familiar, he didn't joke with academics! We were denied games, breaks and other privileges until we learnt or passed - especially Mathematics!
Bro. Ifeanyi didn't flog any student to the best of my knowledge (tho his knocks could reset one's brain😆). But he was a psychologist and an administrator. He also preferred punishing students through manual labour. As a result of that, I and a few others were very handy in cementing the pathway in front of the major hostel block (where the bell used to be); and also digging the drainage in front of the field - during classes! I didn't mind actually. It was an opportunity to buy some cool snacks or tease each other. 😋
Bro. Jude Anani was "jiggy". I fancied his style; he constantly gave off a Lagos vibe. He had a flow with the students, especially senior students. He wasn't troublesome like his predecessors either.
Lest I forget, my very first form master in JSS1 was Mrs. Marilyn Obie. Unlike a certain insensitive woman of a form master I later had in my senior class - who I opine - took pleasure in my demise, Mrs., Marilyn was kind, patient and receptive. She put me through from the very first day of orientation when i was checking in.
My mothers: Mrs. Ojukwu, all female kitchen/refectory staff et al. My fathers: Mr. Amu, all male kitchen/refectory staff. Hearty greetings! I recall there was a Cooler that was called "Cooler ndi isi". When I became a Chief Refectorian (right from an assistant), we (SP, DSP, Labour, Sanitary, Store prefects and their assistants) always donated money to the refectory and kitchen staff - at the commencement of every term. It was an unbroken tradition for many years. I don't know much about the traditions of MBJ now. I heard most have slowly died or abolished. You can't even storm or flog now. But change is constant!
In my time in MBJ, I was a terror and also a charm. Whichever I was to you, take it like that jare! I take full responsibility and ask you to move on!😂 Those were the formative years! No mind me jare, abeg forgive me.🙂
To those I omitted to mention, forgive me. I certainly can't mention everyone instrumental to my growth in MBJ: Osma A, Oga Geo, Boko....
Enough of the musing and reminiscing.
Bye for now!🤗
God bless you all.
God bless Marist Brothers' Juniorate!🙌❣
