The sun rose bright and hot over Old FGC, but it wasn't an ordinary Saturday. It was Visiting Day—the one day in the term when students could reconnect with family, friends, and the world outside the fences.
From early morning, the air buzzed with excitement. Boys scrubbed themselves clean, uniforms neatly ironed, shoes polished till they shone like mirrors. Even the harshest seniors allowed juniors some space, knowing their own families might arrive at any time.
Kalu Egbe stood by the dormitory veranda, scanning the crowd at the school gate. Parents had begun arriving, some with cars packed full of coolers, bags of provisions, and cheerful faces. The smell of jollof rice, fried chicken, and homemade soup floated through the air.
He waved when he spotted Nedu's mother, balancing a large cooler on her head, with Nedu rushing to help. Fireboy grinned beside him, holding a bag of cabin biscuits his aunt had just delivered.
Kalu's own parents hadn't come, but he didn't mind. He felt happy enough watching others smile. For a while, there was no fear, no senior barking orders, only warmth and laughter.
Not far from the classroom block, a junior named Odogwu was having the best day of his life. His parents had showered him with love, fed him well, and left him with a bag of goodies—milk, Milo, biscuits, clothes, and crisp naira notes.
Grinning, Odogwu marched towards the hostel, bag in hand.
But as he passed the dorm window, a voice called out:
"You! Fresh boy, bring that bag here."
A senior leaned out, eyes locked on Odogwu's loot. One by one, the senior took everything—food, provisions, even the small change. Odogwu stood frozen, helpless. Other juniors looked away, afraid to speak.
From a distance, Kalu watched. His heart clenched. So this na why people dey fear to enjoy Visiting Day.
He turned back, hiding behind the water tank. I no fit go hostel now.
He waited there for hours, until night fell. Mosquitoes buzzed, his stomach growled, but he stayed hidden. Only when the lights went off and seniors returned to their bunks did Kalu sneak into the dormitory, clutching his remaining food tightly.
That night, he shared his food with Nedu and Fireboy, eating in silence under the faint glow of a torchlight.
"In this place, you must learn sense," Fireboy whispered. "Visiting Day or not."
Kalu nodded. "Next time, I go plan better."
In the shadows, he discovered something else—strength. Not just the strength to survive, but to endure with dignity.
Days later, Kalu missed a school activity—morning sanitation duty. It wasn't intentional, but in Old FGC, missing duty meant punishment.
That evening, as he returned from night prep, sweat clinging to his back, a junior boy met him near the hostel gate.
"Kalu, run o! Senior Ajayi dey find you. He say make you kneel down with bucket."
Kalu froze. "He still dey hostel?"
The boy nodded. "Him dey wait since. Say he no go let you sneak in."
Kalu didn't hesitate. He turned and sprinted, slipping behind the school farm. His eyes darted around. Where to hide?
Then he saw it—a tree, tall with thick branches. Without thinking, Kalu climbed, settling on a sturdy limb. He waited.
The night deepened. Crickets chirped. From afar, the hostel glowed dimly. Kalu's limbs ached, but he stayed still. Eventually, sleep took him.
He woke to the crowing of a cock. Light touched the sky. Quickly, he climbed down, brushed dirt from his clothes, and rushed into the hostel just before the bell for morning food.
As he joined the line, Nedu smirked. "Where you sleep?"
Kalu grinned. "Tree branch. Best sleep ever."
Fireboy laughed. "You dey mad. But you dey wise."
Later that day, during break, Fireboy shared a secret with Kalu and Nedu beneath the mango tree.
"You dey wonder how I get fake belt and keys?" he asked.
Kalu nodded. "Since term start, you never run short."
Fireboy grinned. "Na planning. When school dey resume—either new term or after midterm—I dey come early. Very early. By that time, most seniors never show. Hostel dey empty."
Nedu's eyes widened. "You dey raid hostel?"
"Not raid," Fireboy corrected. "I dey harvest. Anything wey senior forget—belts, keys, sandals, buckets—I gather am. Hide for one corner. E go help me survive."
Kalu laughed. "You na real farmer of FGC."
Fireboy shrugged. "Na survival. When senior collect belt, I give am fake. When dem collect key, na spare key I dey show."
Nedu clapped. "You dey play chess. The rest of us dey play ludo."
They all laughed, their voices rising above the heat of the day.
In Old FGC, wisdom didn't come from books—it came from scars, tricks, and secrets.
To be continued...