It wasn’t me.
Of the five questions, #1 was compulsory. As expected. As dreaded. Tough and technical too. With little appendages to prolong the torture — 1i, 1i(a), 1i(a)i…
The instructions read thus:
Answer any three questions. #1 is mandatory.
Time: 1 hour 30 minutes
The tension, which began yesterday in the lecture room, was gaining momentum. Thick as a secondary school blanket with its red strip at the bottom. Palpable, it hung ominously over the lowered heads of students currently scanning the papers handed to them a few minutes ago.
Two young men, sitting up front, fanned themselves with their answer booklets. A metaphor; the heat was on.
Irenosen skimmed the five questions, immediately intimidated by their structures. None of them was straightforward and uncomplicated. All five had parts — 2a, 2b; 3a, 3b, 3c, etc.
As noted earlier, leading the pack was #1 and its children and grandchildren, taking up nearly a third of the sheet. The others had two or three parts to them, depending on the whim of the lecturer.
Inclusive of the mandatory question, she knew she could answer the requisite number of questions…quite satisfactorily, she hoped.
She mapped out her strategy: leave the most difficult for the last, namely #1, and tackle the other two swiftly, allowing more than enough time to linger over it later. That approach had been foolproof during JAMB (the external examination with which she had gained admission into the university). And this being her first examination as an undergraduate, it seemed wise to adopt the same method.
Quickly, she jotted down a few points on the back of the question sheet and began fleshing out answers for the three-part question that was #3. To her, it was the easiest of them all.
“Are you doing number four?” In a conspiratory whisper, Julia’s voice travelled from right behind her and broke into her concentration as she finished and began contemplating #1 again.
Slouched over her desk, head and pen perfectly aligned, Irenosen lifted her gaze slowly.
Both girls were sat at the back of the large lecture hall, by the side dominated completely by windows. Irenosen in front of her friend, Julia.
Their invigilator, when they laid eyes on her before the start of the exam, drew a collective groan from the entire class. She was yet to take them in a course, but her general demeanour and outlook gave out uncomfortable vibes, her reputation preceding her. She might belong to the spectacles-wearing tribe, but nothing seemed to miss her gaze.
Perhaps the one thing that set off the students was one of the first things one noticed about her — her hair. Styled in a monument of black thread spirals, primary-school-girl fashion, and rising to a peak on her head, it stood erect and threatening combined with a rather pleasant-looking face devoid of make-up and ear lobes of earrings.
Her attire consisted of a long-sleeved, nondescript blouse tucked into an equally forgettable ankle-length, flowing skirt around a robust form. She might as well have had on a sackcloth. There were no pointers for concluding where her religious allegiances lay: The Deeper Life Ministry.
Fleetingly, Irenosen remembered the look of barely concealed disdain she’d shot their way as they found and took their seats. The red, flirty flared skirt she had on hung just below her thighs. Julia’s was scandalous — thigh length, stretch, pitch black, skintight and exposing slim, fresh, light-skinned, dainty legs. The words Be careful had flashed through Irenosen’s mind then. They flashed again as her gaze searched for the invigilator.
Satisfied to discover the lady stationed up front and distracted by another student, Irenosen shook her head slowly from side to side, straightening at the same time, taking her question sheet along with her movements. “I don’t know all of it.” She whispered back, her eyes trained ahead, keeping the invigilator in her sights. “Just the first part.”
Still in a whisper, Julia responded. “I know the second part.” She sounded relieved. “Can you — ?”
Her friend nodded slowly. “Give me some time to finish this.” Cutting her off. “When I lean back again…” She resumed her former position.
Instead of going straight to #5 as she’d earlier planned, Irenosen flipped to the back of her sheet again and wrote what she’d later tell her friend. She figured it would be easier to reel them off when she was ready.
Then on impulse, she wrote #1 in her answer booklet, deciding against saving the dreaded question for last.
After several long sweaty moments, she sat upright once more—two down, one to go.
Once she caught Julia’s attention, she began, in whispered bits, to dictate the answers above her shoulders, head slightly inclined towards the window, question sheet partly blocking her face.
She wanted it over and done quickly so that she could deal with her third and final question.
In her impatience, she failed to be as meticulous as before — ensuring the coast was clear enough to whisper back and forth, checking for the current position of the invigilator, guarding against any eventuality.
So when Julia whispered; “What was the last thing you said?”, mild irritation slipped into Irenosen’s tone and she twisted her neck a little more than necessary, talking at the same time: “You need to — ”
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“So this is what you girls are doing back here?” The distinctly pleased vocals of the invigilator, sounding suddenly from out of the blue, staved off any further exchange between the friends.
First strike. Abrupt. Unexpected.
Irenosen froze, shutting her eyes in horror as she felt the presence and heard the footsteps of the lady approaching them from behind. Then she turned towards her, attempting to talk. “No, ma —”, she began in a soft, shaky tone.
The lady lecturer was shaking her head, wagging a warning finger in her direction. The expression on her face was reminiscent of the cat who had got the cream — smugly delighted. “Don’t say a word!” She cautioned, smiling widely, rounded cheeks forming mini moulds to complement her bouffant hairdo. “I saw both of you.”
Second blow. Irenosen’s stomach began to churn.
It was what she didn’t say that had Irenosen’s heart pounding. You’re both in for it now! Her expression seemed to ooze out silently.
Julia made a feeble attempt then. “Please ma, she wasn’t —” But didn’t get any further than her friend as she was silenced with a look of daggers shot through the invigilator’s spectacles.
The lady snapped up both their answer booklets and looked ahead of her, lifting a hand, her next words devastating. “Tei,” She raised her voice considerably, addressing a man by one of the doors. Irenosen’s sickening situation worsened. When did the lecturer of the course enter the class? How long had he been here? No. No. No. “Over here. I caught these two talking!”
Third hit. And it just went downhill from then on.
A number of the other students had stopped writing and were watching the backroom drama unfolding.
“Excellent!” Tei uttered in his singsong voice, a slender specimen of a man with borderline comical features. Light on his feet, he joined the trio in a matter of seconds and relieved the papers from his colleague’s grasp.
Placing them on Irenosen’s desk to give her a front-row seat to his next action, what he proceeded to write would haunt her for days to come:
-15 marks in bold red ink and circled for emphasis
Pronouncing the judgment as he scribbled them to leave no doubt in the girls’ minds of their punishment. “Minus 15 marks for your misdemeanor, young ladies.” He sounded just as pleased as his colleague.
Straightening up, he bestowed a winsome smile on both friends and delivered the final punch. “What are you still doing here?” He asked, expression becoming puzzled. “The exam is over for both of you. Please excuse the rest of us.” His gesture was a theatrical flourish as he indicated the exit like a magician at a big reveal.
Fighting to keep it together and on the brink of tears, the hall and everything else faded into oblivion as Irenosen led the way toward the door with heavy footfalls.
Nothing else mattered except the blunder she’d just lived through, the spotlight she’d just cast herself under, and the shame and fury she felt toward herself.
The passing shot, levelled at them in clear tones by the lady lecturer, couldn’t have helped to make her feel worse: “See how they are dressed!”
Outside, Irenosen’s steps suddenly quickened, constantly widening the gap between her and her friend behind, who desperately wanted to apologize, say something, smoothen ruffled feathers.
“Renee, Renee…” Julia’s usual strident voice was miserable. “Sorry…”
Irenosen’s steps didn’t slow down or stop. She didn’t respond either.
Their walk of shame echoed in the quiet of a faculty currently in the thick of first-semester examinations.
Reaching a fork, one left turn to a staircase while straight ahead led to administrative offices, Irenosen turned left and leaned on the first pillar in her path, head on her arm, her stomach still churning uncontrollably, face in anguish.
Only then did Julia catch up with her.
So much for flying under the radar while in the university, keeping a low profile, and quietly graduating when the time came.
Not one but two lecturers already had her in their sights. They knew her name, her number, and what she looked like. The very first exams in the institution! On the day of her second paper, she’d already made departmental news and corridor gossip!
She was probably looking at an extra semester if things went any more awry than they already had.
She knew Julia misunderstood her silence. She didn’t blame her friend. She was pissed at herself. She had been reckless, diving head first, not stopping to look. And now suffering the consequences.
She placed her head on her hand as tears started spilling down.
Without a word, Julia put a hand on her back which had started trembling.
