Chapter 1: WAEC Don End, Another Wahala Start

After WAEC finish, I no expect say my life go turn upside down—waka enter another world wey na book and juju everywhere.

For my mind, after all the wahala for WAEC, I think say na to just chill for my uncle house, chop akara, play ball, and dey catch cruise till NECO time reach. Who go believe say na another world go carry me, and for here, na who sabi English, Maths, and all those school books dey reign?

For the sect competition, our eldest senior brother lose just because dem ask am the answer to 4×8÷2−3 and e no fit talk am.

Na so dem just disgrace our guy, Elder Brother Tunde, for front of everybody. The shame sef, e enter my bone. That time, I no even know say e fit be like say na book smartness na im be the real juju for here.

Second senior sister too, dem comot am because she no sabi wetin "What’s your name" mean.

You fit imagine? Morayo, wey dey always correct my grammar back home, just dey look like mumu, no fit answer small English question. That one pain me because I remember how she dey form posh sometimes.

Third senior brother even chop serious wound because dem ask am to complete wise saying after "When the palm fronds fall, the weaverbird cries" and e no fit remember.

E no even get chance to block the attack. As dem throw wise saying for am, e just dey look ground like person wey forget im phone for market. The injury wey e chop, ehn—e serious. Even me feel am.

Later, na so I come realize say for this cultivation world, everybody get six major spiritual roots:

English, Maths, Yoruba, Physics, Chemistry, and Biology.

As dem dey yarn, I come dey imagine say my own spiritual root dey somewhere between 'sleep' and 'forgetfulness.' Wetin concern me with all this wahala? Abeg, my own na to survive, make I no disgrace my people.

Me I just confuse—my head dey turn like say harmattan breeze dey blow am.

No be small confusion. My body even cold. I dey look all these people as dem dey flex, dey wonder if na another WAEC I enter so, or na dream. Omo, e shock me.

Your own style of cultivation... e be like say e dey somehow, abi?

Everybody dey look me one kain, as if to say dem never see my type before. Me sef dey look myself. Wetin I sabi? Abi, na to go farm dey cassava better pass this thing?