Sunday, 21 February 2016


Standing at the front of the lecture hall in his well fitted
black suit with a green tie was Professor Iyagba.

"Stand up!" He had thundered. I knew if he had to repeat
himself again or come over to pull me up I'll be in a lot
more trouble so I reluctantly stood up murmuring a silent
prayer to my God.

"I'm so sorry sir..." I said once I had stood up leaning
slightly on the desk at my front.

"Would you stand up right!" He thundered once more. He
sounded a lot louder this time, I felt a cold shiver run down
my spine. I did as told.

"What's your name?" He asked, finally reducing his tone by
a notch.

"Amaka sir," I replied, visibly shaking. "I'm so sorry sir, it
would never hap..."

"Shut up! What do you mean by you are sorry?" He cut in.
I heard someone giggle at the front of the hall only for me
to look and see one small silly boy that I refused to give
my number some weeks back.

He had approached me and
had been so smooth that I almost gave him my phone
number only for him to hand me a Blackberry Tour to type
my number in.

You can tell a lot about a person's financial
status by the phone he uses and since I don't want broke
boys in my life I snubbed him and rejected giving him my

In summary, let's just say our meeting didn't end
too well so him laughing now was understandable. I felt
like removing his eyebrows but I fought the thought and
gave him a scornful stare instead.

"I've been in the system for over twenty years!" Agbaya
continued to say as he figured I had no reply for him.
"How old are you self? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty? My
youngest kid is married! You think I'm a fool?" He asked,
leaving me wondering what sneaking into his class had to
do with my age.

I kept quiet once more.

"The problem with most of you is you think you own the
world because you are young and exist in a generation
where there are lamps and generators, you don't know
what it takes to spend all night reading under the moon
light or if you are lucky, with candle stick...."

"I'm so sorry sir. I swear, it would never happen again sir,"
I said, saying sir for like the one millionth time.
"What's did you say your name is again?"
"Amaka, sir."

"Your surname is sir?" He asked and the whole hall roared
in laughter. I felt so embarrassed but tried to conceal it.
"No sir, my surname is Okafor sir..." I said then noticed I
had just done the 'sir' thing again, "Amaka Okafor," I

"Amaka Okafor? Are you a carry over student?"

Me? Carry over? God forbid! I wish you the same! I said in
my mind but the realised he was a lecturer and couldn't
get a carry over. I smiled at my foolishness.
"No sir," I replied out loud.

"What's your matric number?" He asked.

Now, the thing is when a lecturer ask for you matriculation
number when you've clearly bleeped up, just know shiit
just got real.

"Ah! Sir... I swear to God! I didn't mean to sneak into your
class, it would never...."

"Oh! Shut up! Is that the answer to my question?" He
asked. I noticed the slight increment in his tone.
"Sir..." I said, thinking of a perfect reply.

"Miss Okafor, your matric number!" He thundered so loud I
can swear the pillars in the hall vibrated.

"0632092." I finally said directly of my head. As a student,
matriculation number is one of those things you just have
to know by heart.

"Good, see me at my office after the class," he said, "sit
down miss Okafor," he added and then continued with his
lecture acting like nothing just happened..

Collecting my matriculation number and then asking I see
him at his office? This is not good at all, I thought.

I've heard stories about Agbaya having 'extreme' affairs
with female students but it was hard to believe since he
didn't look like the type considering the way he dresses,
acts and of course, he has a wife.

It took like forever for his class to end but at last he said,
"so that's all we have for today, remember I'll test you
people on all we've learnt so far nothing more... So be

He left the class soon afterwards and I went after him not
sure about what to expect.

I should have just obeyed all his instructions and maybe I
won't have to see him at his office.

From frying pan to fire.

(c) Online

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