Chapter 3: School Gist and Public Eye

She freeze. Small time, she burst: "You dey craze? Even lie get limit! You be arts student—the highest this year na 358, abi?"

Her voice sharp like blade. Small time, aunties begin shift for chair, dey whisper. The whole table come dey scatter like when NEPA take light for night prep.

"Na so," I talk, chop another melon. "I be arts top scorer."

The melon this time sweet well. If na film, na there soundtrack for play. My own dey, I no look anybody face.

Everywhere just quiet. Kamsi face change from blue to white.

Even the small pikin for the table stop dey cry—everybody just dey look her, dey watch wetin she go do next.

She sharply ask, "You sure say you no run exam?"

Her tone carry suspicion like market woman wey dey catch thief for shop.

"Believe wetin you like," I tell am, drag my mama hand stand up. "We dey go house."

I stand with all my chest. Mama pack her bag, wipe her eye. That restaurant for Challenge, even the waiters pause, dey look.

Everybody just shock for inside the restaurant. As I reach house, na then I see Tunde don send two more messages:

"No worry if you no do well. For my mind, you still be the brightest."

His words just land for my chest, heavy but sweet. I just rest head for pillow, dey reason my life.

This guy—he fit make person cry.

True true, sometimes I dey feel say I no deserve that kain attention. But if to say I fit rewind time, maybe I for no start the wahala. But life no dey use eraser.

I use fake picture, collect free lesson from am for one year. But that time, I even dey feel small guilty.

Some nights, e go pain me, I go dey ask myself if I fit ever balance am. But my street sense dey tell me: na survival I dey do.