My Worst Week Ever

I’m skipping the greetings and going straight to the point. I’m simply going to be giving you guys’ random gist. Nothing specific. This week has been unfair. This post is long so you have to chill.

So on Wednesday, I hit the right side of my forehead on an iron rod and that part of my head got swollen. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a boil began to grow on the swelling. I’m telling you this for two main reasons. The main one being that I don’t want any of you who see me to think my head is actually shaped like that. The shape of my head on a normal day is actually sexy. Ignore the fact that it’s shaped like Shrek’s own now because of the swelling. So for those of you in my school, if you see any young man with a big juicy swelling on his forehead with a boil on it, that’s me. The second reason is that I’m convinced that one of you must have cursed me. And I want to beg you to cancel or undo the curse because the thing hurts.

So today, I am very angry with many girls. Those I’m friends with. You people are wicked. Who knows how on some days, you know you look so good and you just want people to notice. For guys, how you want the ladies to look at you and be really impressed. Well it happened to me every day this past week, except Friday. So this last Sunday that just passed, I was really jobless and so I decided to get all my outfits for the week ready (Yes, sometimes boys do this too). I picked four of my shirts, starched them well and ironed them. When I was done, I could see my face in all the shirts (Ignore the lie).

So Monday came. I woke up a bit early. I had enough time to get ready for the day. After I brushed my teeth and had taken shower, I went back to my room and began to think of what shirt to match with which trouser. I’d never really bothered about dressing to impress in the past but this time, I wanted to take it personal. I looked at my wristwatch and realized I didn’t have much time left. Being late for the math class I had that morning was not an option. Because I had to hurry, I absentmindedly picked a navy blue trouser and decided to wear it with a white shirt. I then picked on sick tie that was just too nice.

A few minutes passed and I was ready to leave. I spent a good two minutes looking at myself in a mirror and feeling like a boss. I waited for my friends as they finalized their preparation and a while later, we were off. On the way, I constantly looked around for any fine lady who I hoped would be admiring my look. The devil is really wicked o .I didn’t see any ‘omoge’. My course mates, the girls, might have looked at me that day but they weren’t the set of people I was hoping would scope me.

Tuesday came, and I killed it again. I made sure I walked around school/campus that day just so someone would notice me. As you must have guessed, no one did. I dragged myself to the cafeteria in pain and wished they had a really strong drink (like 95% alcohol) for me to drown my pain in. And of course, they didn’t and can never have such. I ended up with a 1.5litre coke and drank as I walked back to my room. On getting there, I was sad inside and so I simply played FIFA to take the pain away. I slept that night and prayed for the best the next day.

Wednesday was just the worst. No one even noticed. I was really confident that day but no one just noticed. On Thursday, I had to wear the last of the four shirts I had ‘beautified’. I didn’t care if anyone noticed that day though I hoped someone would. Well what do you know, no one did. That Thursday night, I slept late. This was because I used most of the night to think about how unfair life was to me the previous days of the week. I concluded that on Friday, I wasn’t going to stress myself.

On Friday morning, I wasted a lot of time. I did so because I didn’t expect anything good from the day. Remember I said the swelling and the boil came on Wednesday. I had ignored it on Wednesday and Thursday. On Friday (today), I gained full consciousness of it. I checked in a mirror and saw how bad it was. I was really depressed. The thought of how I looked with it made me feel bad. Especially because I hadn’t thought of it when I was busy wearing my ‘beautified’ shirts. I felt like ‘stabbing’ all lectures that day but I wasn’t used to it and so I decided not to. For those who don’t know, stabbing is simply not attending lectures or whatever.

After overcoming the depression, I forced myself to take a shower, brush my teeth and all the other morning routine. After all of that, I open my wardrobe and stared at it. I checked the time and I saw that I was already late. I hissed in disgust and didn’t care. I made sure I looked for the roughest shirt I had and wore it with the wrongest tie possible.

When I got to the lecture theatre, the lecturer was doing ‘bragado’ and didn’t let any latecomer enter for the class. In my mind, I slapped the man. After his class was over, I went in and looked for somewhere to seat for the next class. Most of the comfortable seats were taken and so I had to manage one wretched seat. This didn’t irritate me because I wasn’t expecting anything good from the day. So there I sat, with my rough shirt, ugly swelling with a boil and pained soul. The next class began and the lecturer was talking about Mark Zuckerburg, that Facebook guy. I wasn’t interested in anything she was saying. I was just angry. One girl passed in front of me. She had a good part of her breasts exposed and the thing just annoyed me. As I watched her go back and forth, constantly passing in front of me, knowingly or unknowingly tempting boys, I began to abuse her in my mind. I abused and abused and abused. For all you perverted folk, by abuse, I mean verbally and not sexually. After I was done, I began to feel bad for the girl. The things I had said might have made her kill herself if she heard me.

I’ve reached the part of the story where I let you know what made me say I was angry with my friends, the girl ones. Anytime I say friend after this sentence, know that I’m referring to a girl/lady.

When the class was over, I was about getting up when one of my friends walked up to me and said hi. I wanted to slap the girl but I just said hi and she began to talk. As she spoke, I was just boiling inside. I was really pained because I wasn’t in any way looking good. I mean, why couldn’t she have chosen Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday? This day, I was looking like a poor, suffering man. That’s without considering my boil and swollen head. On the outside, I just smiled and the conversation finally ended. We said our goodbyes and parted ways.

As I left, another sexy lady I met during the summer began to walk towards me. I wanted to kill myself because I didn’t look presentable at all. She was the last person I would have hoped would see me in my current state. As she got closer, I was praying for the ground to open up and swallow me. I couldn’t try to straighten my shirt or hair because she kept eye contact as she got closer. I wanted to run away but I couldn’t because it would have been rude of me. And then I’d been hoping to see her for a really long time. She was and still is really hard to find so every time I see her, I have to treasure the moment. She finally got to me, I said hi, we had a short, brief conversation in which I said some rubbish and planned to meet later that night.

I almost cried when I thought of what she would have thought of me. Like if she thought I was a horrible dresser or if she thought I was ugly because of the boil. I simply thanked God that I didn’t see many of my other friends. As I was thanking my maker, I bumped into two close friends of mine. At this point, I was wishing I had a gun. I summoned up courage, said hi, and hoped that they didn’t notice my boil and poor dressing. The day went on with me bumping into many of my friends. It was a really embarrassing day for me.

Night came. I decided to go meet that sexy lady I told you about earlier. On my way to the place we agreed to meet, the devil made me bump into more of my friends. That devil sha. I wasn’t really pissed or embarrassed this time because the only embarrassing thing was my boil. When I got to the agreed meeting point, the girl wasn’t there. I was about 10minutes late and so I wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t there. I prayed and hoped that she wasn’t pissed at me. With a little bit of sadness and a feeling of being ‘slyed’, I walked back to my hall. Again, I bumped into more friends.

When I got back, I just sat and thought about my life. Why I had the boil? Why it was on the day I looked bad that most of my friends appeared? What I had done to deserve all of it? The night ended with me writing this post. As I said, this week has been unfair. I have a day left in it and I hope it would be a good day.

Moral Lesson – Life doesn’t always go how you want.

To the girl I was supposed to meet, I’m sorry I didn’t show up.

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this. Stay Safe, Pray against boils, look good at all times and don’t forget to follow @SeyiSoneye.

This Has No Topic

Hey Hey! What’s up with you all?  You must have noticed that things are looking different. Cool theme yeah?  Of course it is. I was just going through things and I discovered it. I like it. Lemme skip all the pointless things you don’t care about and delve into more important things. It’s not time for today’s post yet.

Remember in my last post, how I told you I was moved from the 3rd floor to the ground floor (Talking about my room), and how my roommates are cool people? Well if you don’t, check here. So my new floor is a funny zone. First of all, my room has turned into a game center. It’s the last room on my floor and so whatever noise is made there doesn’t really disturb. And then it’s the only room where all the game requirements are available. Now, because of all that, my room is always full, especially at night when were free. Boys from the other rooms come over to play. Why am I telling you this? It’s because I want to. The main point or topic or subject or importance or usefulness of all I’ve said so far is that boys take games too personal these days.

 Look at FIFA for example; it used to be a game that people just play. Now, the whole reason of playing is to be the best. True, we play most games to be the best and for bragging rights. But the buildup to getting to that level is a serious struggle. Like my floor for example; when we resumed this semester, there was really nothing significant to do. And so, we decided to play a league tournament in FIFA.  The tournament started with me playing the opening game with one boy who had been challenging me. We played and I disgraced him (Ignore the narcissism). When I was done, I got up, said the game was too easy, and walked out like a boss. When it was my turn again, I expected to win again but I lost. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Let’s skip all this and go to the main thing. Along the line, most people who were in poor positions began to forfeit. We all got angry and decided to end the tournament as it was. Judging from the league table, I was the winner. I didn’t want to brag much and just let the matter go.

Now this happened about three weeks ago. So yesterday, we were all in my room, playing FIFA as usual. (My room is now a game center, remember?) Two guys began verbal attack. One was playing, one was to play next. The basis of the attack was that one was claiming to be better than the other. The issue got really heated and it seemed like they were going to fight. Someone brought up an idea that both boys should play and that the loser wasn’t allowed to play the game for a week. Both parties agreed and we all waited for the match.

While waiting, someone began to say that most of us were over-hyped. For those who don’t know what that means, it’s simply when someone or something is over-rated. It was supposed to be a simple random comment but boys began to take it personal. Because of what that boy had just said, people began to remind each other about matches they had played the previous year. I was just sitting, with my mouth open, wondering why someone would bring up something that happened long ago. Everyone began to criticize whoever they wanted to one by one. In real life, I was straight-faced, but in my mind, I was laughing uncontrollably. I decided to end the argument by reminding them that I had beaten the boy they claimed was the best.  They couldn’t argue with me because I had beaten most of them more than they had beaten me and the gap was big. I purposely didn’t mention the tournament I won.

Again, you might be wondering why I’m telling you this. The truth is that, it’s too funny how people take something as silly as FIFA personal. BAZINGA!!!  The real truth is that I am A Boss at FIFA. Yes Yes, I am bragging, and I am proud of myself. I don’t care who you are, I know I can beat you. And I want all of you to know.

Today’s topic is not so long. It’s something brief, and that’s why I took the decision to gist you the long gist you honestly don’t care about. Anyway, I’m simply going to be talking about two words that people mistake for each other.

The words are ‘funny’ and ’stupid’. This misinterpretation is too painful. I’m going to start by defining both words. According to the Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary, FUNNY is simply ‘amusing’ and STUPID is ‘foolish’ or ’silly’. It hurts when I see people confuse these two words. I remember when I used to do so.

It happened back when I was still in secondary school. I changed to a new school in ss1. Life in my new school was just there. I had to go through the normal ritual of trying to fit in. I was really quiet because I didn’t know anyone. Over time, I began to gel in. By the time we were in the second term, I had fit in well.

At that point in my life, I decided I wanted to be known for something particular, and so, I decided I was going to be funny. The only problem was that I didn’t know how I was going to go about it. Being funny isn’t something that one starts in a single day. It’s not so easy. It’s either natural or comes after good practice. Both options looked hopeless to me. I mean, I was looking for immediate ‘funniness’.

After few days of hard thought, the only possible option was to begin to act stupid. I decided to turn my thoughts to something real and so the next week in school, I started my stupidity. It was basically me, saying stupid words, acting silly, giving dumb sarcastic answers, abusing people with funny, unreasonable words and a bunch of other stupid things.

Funny enough, my plan worked. People always laughed when I said my stupid words. Some even copied me. The boys hailed me anytime I abused people with what I assumed were funny words. I enjoyed my unusual fame and attention. The whole act got me into trouble anytime I tried to be ‘funny’ with teachers. One funny instance was during a certain chemistry class.

Our chemistry teacher was a Yoruba man with tribal marks. Let’s call him Mr. O. His tribal marks were drawn funny. The rude but painful truth was that they made him look like a cat. Some supposedly funny people, boys of course, always said ‘meow’ anytime he was around. And so, this faithful afternoon, we all went to the chemistry laboratory for our class. Before I go on, I want you to know that Mr. O had this peculiar way of teaching. Anytime he was teaching, he’ll always make us complete his sentences. For example, let’s assume he’s teaching us about ‘Hydrocarbons’. He says something like, ‘today, were talking about hydrocar….’ Here, were all supposed to complete his sentence by saying, ‘bons’. So this fateful day, we boys agreed that when Mr. O does his regular thing, we were going to reply with, ‘Guy, we care not’.

I was excited by the idea and because of that; I sat in the front of the class. Mr. O walked in few minutes later. We all got up and greeted him. He told us to sit and the class began. He started off by going through the previous topic. As he talked, I just sat on the lab stool, waiting for him to manifest. I didn’t have to wait long. I can’t really remember the topic he was teaching that day, so let’s assume he was talking about Hydrocarbons. I was so attentive. The thought of saying, ‘guy, we care not’ felt epic.

Finally, (Assume) Mr. O said, ’Benzene is an aromatic hydrocar……. ’. As he said that and waited for our response, I shouted ‘guy, we care not’. As I was saying it, I noticed that it was only my voice I was hearing. Apparently, the other boy’s slyed me. I was the only one that had shouted.  I’m not going to tell you what followed. Use your imagination to finish the story.

After that day, I ditched my ‘funny’ struggle. I’ve finally mastered the concept of true ‘funniness’. Not mastered per se, but I have an adept knowledge of going about it.

My simple point is that ‘funny’ and ’stupid’ differ. Using one to replace the other works at times, but the older you get, the more you get to understand that both are actually extremely different. It gets to a particular age when one starts to be seen as immature because of the silly misinterpretation. Moral Lesson Boys will sly you.  Anyway, that’s all for today.  I’ve tried small. Later people and follow @SeyiSoneye.

Those Silly Rats

Hey Beautiful People!! Missed me?? Sure you did. It’s been a while since I posted last. My bad. As I said earlier, I’m in school and the number of posts would reduce a bit. I’m so sorry if I kept you waiting for so long.

Anyway, since I’m in school, lemme just give you a lowdown on a scary encounter I had here. Something unimportant you should know before I go on is that I’ve been trying to learn one Chinese song and it’s looking hopeless.

So, I got to school on the day they told us to resume (Such a good boy). I had mixed feelings about resuming, wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad. I would have loved to resume late but bringing up the topic with my parents might result in the end of me.

Prior to getting to school, I found out my room was on the 3rd floor, serious stress. On getting there, I struggled to get all my stuff all the way up on my own.  No help. Human beings are mean. After almost 45minutes of struggling, all my things were up. Exhausted and weak, I lay on a random bed to rest. I began to think of how this new semester was going to go, Lectures, my crazy course mates, my roommates for the year, females (I’m going to talk about this soon), FIFA challenges, and boring lecturers and so on. When it seemed like I had thought of every possible thing I’d have to deal with, I got up and began to unpack.

Night came; few people came to school that day so everywhere was empty (Not empty per se, but not as bubbling as a normal school night). I just whiled away the night playing FiFa until I eventually slept off as there wasn’t anyone good enough to beat me.

The next morning, the shitty porters announced that our rooms had been changed.  I went to check for my new room and I found out they had moved me to the ground floor. I almost cried when I saw the list. The thought alone of having to move my things all the way down was too painful. There was really no choice so I forced myself to move all my things down.

My new room was okay. They had reshuffled everyone so my roommates changed. The ones I had now were cool guys. The day went on well. I actually prefer my new room because I don’t have to climb any stairs to get there (Yurr, I’m lazy). The room, in fact, the whole floor seemed nice until later that night.

Throughout the day, I was in a friend’s room playing games. We played and played and played. I began to feel sleepy and so I pulled the blinds and looked outside. It was dark. It looked funny because it didn’t feel like we had been playing for that long.  I checked the time and saw that it was 2:27am. We had a service the next morning so my friend and I decided to pack up and go to bed. His room was on my floor so going back to my room was straight-forward, or so I thought.

I stepped out of baba’s room, a little dizzy as I hadn’t stood up or moved around in what happened to be hours. I slowly dragged my feet to my room. As I was about 9 steps to the door of my room, I saw the scariest shit ever.

A dark animal was close to the door of my room, just there, lying. It was really big. I thought it was a cat or a rabbit. I’d never seen those around ever so I was scared shitless.  I finally summoned enough courage to go closer and confirm. The animal moved and I saw that it was a filthy RAT. The dirty, filthy thing was soooooo damn large. I did the normal thing every normal person would do and stamped my feet hard on the ground hoping to scare it. The rat just stood straight on all fours and stared at me. I inched closer, thinking that the rat would get scared and move away but the shit also inched closer. My dizziness cleared when this happened. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I took another step closer and the rat did the same. At this point, fear began to set in. I sprinted back to my friend’s room and told him what I had just seen. We both left his room and walked back to the spot where the rat was. I picked a bottle cover and stoned the rat. The shit did ‘odeshi’ for me and began to charge at us. We began to step back slowly.  From experience and living in this blessed country, I didn’t need to be told that rats were seriously fast. Our steps became faster and so did the rats’.  My friend and I stopped after about six steps and began to laugh. The fat shit couldn’t run. It just hopped like a rabbit and was coming towards us. It was slow so we just watched in amazement. I decided to grow some balls and go past the shit. I eventually did. When I got to my room and was on my bed, the scene began to replay in my head. I laughed for a while and slept off.

Animals are evolving yo. Like faster than we would expect. That was the largest rat I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

The next morning, I told some of my floor mates about the rat. We all laughed about it. They didn’t seem surprised though. Apparently, they had also seen the rat earlier that night. We all concluded that the rat deserved a name and so we called it ‘Babarinde’.

School was dead the next day. My friends and I just went about trying to conclude our registration and other official stuff. After that, we walked around school, looking at the new students, the girls’ sha.

When we were done with our pointless, profitless and unproductive walk about, we all returned back to our hall and played a game tournament (which I won). There wasn’t really anything useful to do and so I lay on my bed and decided to watch ‘Olympus has fallen’. Crazy movie, though I feel ‘white house down’ is more interesting. There’s a lot of comedy in it and all. That plus the action, Bliss. Sorry, I’m deviating.

Anyway, an hour into the movie, my stomach began to hurt and I felt a sudden urge to take a dump. I jumped up from my bed, grabbed a roll of tissue paper and dashed to the toilet. I did the public toilet ritual thing. The whole wiping the seat, filing the toilet bowl with tissue, dressing the toilet seat with tissue and so on. After all of that, I sat and let out a quick lump of shit. I let out a sigh of relief, adjusted my position and got to the business.

With every lump, I heard a squeak. I ignored the first three squeaks and continued my business. I began to think of different ways the movie I was watching could end. Whether the president was going to form boss and do some ‘James Bond’ shit or if Gerard Butler was going to die, Different kinds of endings flowed in my head. My thoughts were brought to an abrupt stop when I felt a nibble on my ass. I jumped to my feet, looked into the toilet bowl and saw a bloody rat. The bastard was trapped in the toilet bowl and with every lump of shit I dropped, it got on and gained some height. I searched my ass frantically, looking for the spot of the nibble. I didn’t find it and with anger in my heart, I looked at the rat, aimed my asshole over it, dropped a good number of lumps of shit on its head, wiped my ass and flushed the shit out of the rat. After about three flushes, the dirty animal didn’t flush. I tried a couple more times but the rat would just paddle as water swirled fast with each flush. I gave up and left the toilet.

As I walked back to my room, I began to thank God for my life and for my ass. I thought of different things the rat could have done. I mean, the shit could have climbed up my asshole and blocked it. My ass is okay though.

Moral lesson – 1. Animals, especially rats are evolving fast. 2. Check the toilet bowl before sitting to take a dump.

That’s all for today people. Wish me a safe rat-free stay in school. Bye. Follow @SeyiSoneye

5 Ways To Get A Girl

Useful Information About Nothing

Heyyyy guyssss! How ya doing? It’s time again to help you waste beneficial time you could use to earn some money! Btw, if you haven’t checked out the first post on my new blog, here’s the link to it #TheAdventuresOfHimAndHer.

Today’s post is gonna actually be useful, so y’all should be really grateful that I’m giving you Useful Information About Something.

 

How To Get A Girl: Oiz Style

If you’ve ever had trouble getting a girl, have no fear! I have the solution to ALL your problems! Stop wasting time figuring out the girls likes and dislikes! Stop wasting all your money on gifts and all other monetary things to get her attention. In just 5 easy steps, I will teach you how to get the girl of your dreams!

 

1.     Never Be There For Her: This is a seduction 101 tactic.I’m really serious here…

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Survivor Series – Part III The FINALE

Hellooo!! How are you guys doing? Great, I hope. Before I go on, I have some announcements to make. So I’m going back to school tomorrow and there’s a high possibility that I won’t be posting much. Don’t cry, I’m not saying I won’t post at all. I just won’t post too frequently. Circumstances could change though, just keep having faith. And I’ve noticed that you folk enjoy reading stuff about the suffering and pain i’ve gone through. May God forgive you. Oh yeah, I made a huge discovery recently!! I found out that there’s something about the letter ‘J’. I mean, there’s James Bond, Jackie Chan, Jack Sparrow, Jason Bourne, Jet Li, Jeyi Joneye etc……
Anyway, we’ve come to the FINALE of the Survivor Series 😦 I hope you guys have been enjoying the special. Of course you have. Since this is the end of the series, it’s going to be quite long. Those of you who like ‘long story’ or ‘cool story’ would enjoy this. Regardless of what you like, sit back, relax and enjoy.
Our story begins where Part II ends…………..
Senior G and I weren’t close anymore. I was just there, on the floor, weak and in pain. This guy beat the shit, hell, living day, life, everything out of me mehn. My body felt like someone had dropped a boulder on it. If not for my Milo cravings, I probably would have never known Senior G was a crook. I swore never to get close to any senior again……………………………. Jss1 finally ended. I was so happy when I saw my dad . I didn’t waste time in throwing all my belongings (Well what was left of it) into the trunk of the car. I let out a sigh of relief as he drove out of the school. I slept through-out the journey. I remember having a dream. In the dream, everything I had gone through played. The Senior G incident was about to begin when a tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. We had arrived home.
I went into the house and ran straight to the kitchen.  Mum had made lunch and I d…………………………………………………………. blah blah blah………………………lets skip all that happened and continue on the day of resumption.
So this resumption day, I wasn’t as excited as I was when I was getting into secondary school for the first time. I knew I was going to suffer all over again. The only happy thing about this time was that I WAS GOING TO HAVE JUNIORS!!!!!!!!!! True, seniors were going to make life hell for me, but now I was a senior, ish, and I had people I could make school hell for.
When we got to school, the enthusiasm to rush my checking-in wasnt there. I checked in and got a room close to my Jss1 room. As I was leaving the check-in table, a housemaster called me and told me they wanted me to move into the common room block. On hearing this, my heart froze. Common block was by miles the worst place to stay as a junior. That was where all ss3 students stayed. I begged the housemaster not to do such evil to me but he didn’t agree. I consoled myself, wished for the best and just thought of how I was going to be wicked to my juniors.
On getting to my room, the worst possible thing awaited me. Now you should know that the common room block had two rooms, one strictly for ss3 students and the other one was for the rest of the ss3 students and for unfortunate juniors (that’s if the ss3 students don’t fill it up). I stood at the door and just looked around to see who my room mates were going to be. Well what do you know, Senior G was in my room. Himself and some of the most evil seniors in my house (Just so you understand better, the way the boys hostel was this. We had four houses – Blue, green, red and yellow. Yours truly was in blue house. each house has 4 blocks – 3 regular blocks and a common room block. each block has 4 rooms, except the common room block which had three rooms – the house masters room and two regular student rooms. re-read all of that and let it sink in). The only good thing about this room was that my best friend was also there. At least i had someone to suffer with. Let’s skip all this story and move to the suffering part because that’s what you people enjoy reading.
……………………………………….
So the whole process of being nice in the first week thing happened this time. The only thing was that I was among the people that were supposed to act nice. Yes, I had juniors (Well, just three, but that was something big to me). Apparently, seniors had to act nice to juniors (that’s jss2 upwards. You lose the ‘juvee’ title when you leave jss1) so that the super-juniors, or ‘juvees’ (jss1 students) wouldn’t get suspicious.
So there was this one juvee that I was nice to. I was nice to them all but I was much nicer to this guy. He was my bunk-mate so the level of ‘niceness’ I gave to him was expected. The young lad trusted me. I felt like one important superstar. Whenever he talked to me, I just looked at him and pictured him suffering in the weeks to come. At the end of the sacred week of ‘niceness’ sha, shit got real for we juniors.
This ss3’s were different. Their own kind of wickedness was unimaginable. Through-out Jss1, the suffer I suffered was still bearable compared to this one. They literally tortured us. I used to wash at least 7 shirts and 3 trousers (my clothes excluded) every afternoon during the week.
Normally, every student was supposed to have a particular chore to do everyday. In Jss1, I was a room sweeper. But this time, I had three chores. I was a room sweeper, toilet washer, courtyard (one place where we hang our clothes to dry after washing or whatever) sweeper.
Weekends were the worst for we common-room block juniors. We did all sorts of work. We washed clothes, swept every possible place, washed all sorts of plates and cutlery. We experienced serious child abuse.
Two weeks into this new era of pain, it dawned on me that I was actually a senior too. I began to plot all sorts of evil for the poor juvees. Wicked you may say, but hey, that’s the circle of life. After a day of plotting, it was time to take action.
Prior to this, I had made that my bunk-mate my school son. Such a dumb lad. I mean, I was just a year ahead and he allowed me be his school father. Moving on.
Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for the juvees, the day I planned to perform my evil plots was a saturday. I woke up early that day because of the excitement. I went to my box and got some biscuits I planned to offer the juvees. When they were all awake, I called them to my corner, told them to sit and offered them the biscuits. As proper hostel boys, they accepted them without wasting any time. When they were done eating, I began to laugh and clap. I told them to laugh and clap along with me. After two minutes of clapping and laughing, I put on a straight face and told them to get their hoes and cutlasses. I lied to them that we were going for war. They believed me and thought I was one fun guy. When they had gotten their ‘weapons’, I marched them to one dirty-looking gutter with spirogyra all over it. The look I gave them was enough to tell them to get to work.
The feeling I had at that moment was heavenly. I began to understand why seniors were mean. It was a wonderful feeling. It even got better when I began to slap the juniors for no good reason. Remember the lad I made my school son, I beat the shit out of him as he cleaned the gutter. I had a feeling that day was going to be my best so far that term. That feeling was coming to pass and then…………*dramatic pause*……… Senior G came into the picture.
Now after we had split (in part II), Senior G and I spoke more. The only difference was that our conversations were mostly him giving me work to do. The guy acted like he never knew me. Earlier that day, the girls in his class had food and nutrition practicals and so they gave him a portion of the food they made in a glass bowl. When Senior G and his mates were done eating, he gave me to bowl to wash. On my way to the laundry bay to wash the bowl, I tripped and fell. And guess what, the bowl shattered to a million pieces. I twisted my ankle but who gives a fuxx.
I really don’t want to go on as only thoughts of pain are in my head now, but I would anyway.
Stupid me picked up the pieces of the broken bowl and went to show Senior G. I was sooo scared. He asked me to tell him what happened and I did. I prayed in my mind that God should perform a miracle. My prayer was answered as Senior G told me to just go. I went to my bed, nursed my ankle and thanked God for answering my prayer. After that, the day went on normally.
In the night, after lights out, I got on my bed to sleep. I was thinking about home when suddenly, I heard Senior G shout my name. I sprinted to answer his call. As I got to his corner, he grabbed my neck and gave me a perfect chokeslam (google it if you don’t know what it is). I screamed out in pain but it was clear that the scream got Senior G angry. He interrupted my scream with a combination of three hard slaps and two heavy knocks. I tried hard not to cry and struggled to get on my feet.
I started to ask Senior G why he did that and the guy just picked me up and slammed me on the floor. His mates just gathered around and were hailing him. I was there on the floor, bleeding from my mouth and some other cuts the beating had given me.
Senior G told me to get up. That night, I did about 6 different types of punishments. I woke up at 6pm the next day. I was sick all over. Every bone in my body hurt. *Laugh at my pain*

So I lied 🙂 There’s nothing ‘long story’ about what you just read. Or nothing fun about it. That’s life. Moral Lessons of the story – 1. When you break up with someone, never cross paths again. 2. A young boy’s suffer stories are nothing to laugh about. 3. Most people have been through a lot, the least you can do is to be nice to them.

That’s all there is to the Survivor Series. Cool theme huhn! I hope you enjoyed reading about my pain. Till next time. Bye! And follow @SeyiSoneye