abolova .-db3079e8

I was privileged to get a scholarship in a White school sponsored by the White woman my mother works for.

She was the director of schools, so it was pretty easy for me to get in.

She always said I had a keen eyesight and so deserved quality education.

This was good news for me and my family until I got to school the first day and realized I was the only black kid, with skin like cocoa and full, stubborn hair that won’t respect gravity, everyone teased me.

I had a quite interesting place to sit, my desk was placed at the end of the class, not alone though, I had the class trash can with me, the smell kept me company.

The white teachers never saw me, acting like I did not exist, I could not ask questions or even answer questions.

We will have a test tomorrow morning”, Mr Adam said, “I hope no one fails”, he said staring at me. 

I wondered why he stared at me when he was talking about failure, perhaps he already expected me to fail.

We all returned to our hostels after class and as usual I had no company as the white kids found pleasure teasing my hair, we all planned to read for the test at night as it was evening already.

What happened that night made me believe that I wasn’t alone, my ancestors were with me, for the first time in Rachael Memorial School there was power failure, everyone panicked except me, I was actually waiting for the light to cease at least for once so I can know I’m still on earth, I had never seen power so constant.

The girls panicked, some even cried because they couldn’t see to read, but I found a way for myself, I’m African.

Me that survived in my father’s house without light, me that cooked, washed, even sewed a complete dress in darkness.

I quietly left them in their misery, went outside the dormitory, found a good position by the tree where I had good moonlight and read my book over and over again until I was convinced I was ready for the test.

Mr Adams kept looking at my direction until I was confused, “does he want the trash can?” I thought . He came to my seat and dropped my paper on my table, turned his back and walked quickly back to his seat like he was being chased.

I was confused, “does he have a runny stomach”, I finally understood when I turned my paper and saw my grade, “aarrrhhhh!” I shouted, the Black girl in me came alive.

“I got an “A”, I screamed, that was the moment one of the girls decided to be unfortunate, “she cheated, none of us read that night because of the power failure”, she said. I smiled and said “where I come from nothing stops us, there may be lots of obstructions and limitations, but we are Africans and nothing kills ‘African-man’, nothing!”.

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What do you think?

  1. Haha!!! Beautifully written and the message was clearly expressed!!! I always enjoy your works. Thank you

  2. Nothing truly kills an African,I kept love this author less, you’re good,keep it up

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