"Tammy! Wake up!"
The voice was firm, punctuated by a familiar tap on his shoulder.
"Oya, go and shower! I need to leave for work soon. Your oats are on the table, quick now!"
It was the dawn of a new era: the first day of JSS3.
Tammy shuffled to the bathroom, as the cool tiles against his feet jolted him even further awake. The morning played out in a blur, almost montage-like, a quick shower, ironing his uniform, buttoning it up with half-focused precision. By the time he sat at the table, a bowl of oats was steaming in front of him.
As he spooned the slop absentmindedly, his mother walked back into the room, holding something out.
"You dropped this on the chair," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Keep it where it's meant to be."
It was the plaque from yesterday.
"Mm." She gestured to the cabinet in the corner. "Where else do you think it should go?"
Reluctantly, Tammy scurried to the cabinet. He pulled open the glass doors, and a cloud of dust hit him square in the face. He recoiled, coughing and waving a hand to clear the air.
"When you won't clean it," his mother muttered, shaking her head.
Once the dust settled, the inside of the cabinet came into view. Shelves stacked with trophies, medals, and certificates gleamed faintly beneath a thin film of grime. Golds, Golds and more golds, reminders of nearly thirty victories, none as significant as any.
With little care, he plopped the plaque in the center of the cabinet, and without a glance back, he slammed the doors shut.
"Oya, let's go," his mother called from the doorway.
Making space, he dropped the plaque smack in the center without giving a second thought. He was off.
Shining Sun is what one would describe as a standard secondary school in Lagos. It had a good number of students, enough to fill up the small multi-purpose hall that acted as the cafeteria and assembly venue. Enough to warrant both A and B classes. Just large enough to avoid the feeling of claustrophobia. And yet, it still felt small enough to be known as a close-knit community. At least, that's what they put on the posters. Even classrooms were standard. All kitted with barely functioning projectors and old Air Conditioning Units.
The school was, in many ways, unremarkable. It was the kind of school parents chose for its affordability rather than its reputation. The walls were painted a fading cream, the kind of colour that looked perpetually dull no matter how much sun it absorbed. The courtyard was a patchwork of cracked concrete and patches of grass that stubbornly refused to grow. And the field was a patchwork of grass with a few patches of sand.
Still, it had its charm. The students would bring it to life like they would in any school, filling its spaces with chatter, arguments, and even more chatter. But since he got here, Tammy had never been the type to stand out in this sea of noise.
I mean, that much was obvious, right?
Today, though, he stood out.
"Good morning, students!"
The principal's voice boomed through the speakers. A rather stout man with a round face, he was as standard as they get. He stood at the center of the "assembly hall", microphone in hand.
"Good morning, Mr. Matthews," the students chorused.
"Morning. I'm very, extremely glad to see all of you here again." He adjusted his tie with one hand and waved with the other. "Last year was a good year for us all, and we're looking to push things even further now. Yes, yes, very nice."
Tammy's eyes were glued to his feet, his fingers fiddling with the loose hem of his blazer. The chatter around him felt muted, and the polished tiles beneath his shoes seemed like the safest place to focus his attention.
A warm pat landed on his back, snapping him out of his spiral.
"He already told you when you're being recognized, right?" Destiny's voice murmured beside him.
Tammy nodded but kept his gaze low.
"Nothing to be worried about," Destiny added, leaning slightly closer.
He shook his head, as if to say that he wasn't.
"Right. Of course you aren't."
Before Tammy could respond, the principal's voice cut through the room again.
"And, luckily for us, Tamuno-Ibi Davidson secured yet another accolade for the school at the recent, uh, Environmental Conference." Mr. Matthews beamed. "Davidson, come up on stage."
Destiny nudged him. "That's your cue!"
The familiar sound of applause filled the hall. Tammy forced himself out of his seat, as flexible as a metal pipe.
Each step felt heavier than the last. The weight of countless eyes pressed down on him, making his wristwatch seem far more interesting to look at.
By the time he reached the stage, his entire demeanour had changed. He accepted the handshake, posed for the obligatory picture, and then gallantly walked offstage the moment the applause began to fade.
"And with that," Mr Matthews continued, "Let us strive to bring even more excellence to our school this year." He handed the microphone to the assembly prefect, Chisom.
Chisom straightened her tie before speaking. "Please rise for the national anthem."
The moment the assembly ended, the students of the school all piled out with haste, from the multi-purpose hall, all falling into various groups once again.
But Tammy moved alone.
He walked with his neck slightly tilted downwards, shoulders squared, with his hands holding the straps of his school bag. Not a towering boy by any means, but a seemingly composed one, keeping a consistent and fast pace.
In reality, he moved like a freight train. A rather agile one, which had the ability to dodge through any obstacles in his way.
He was accustomed to the whispers and the feeling glances that trailed him. I mean, what a weirdo, right? But what you can't handle is something you avoid.
"Hey!"
That was an example of another trying to converse with a travelling Tammy.
The sound would cut through the din, clear and pointed, but he would not falter, nor would he turn. One could not tell if he was selectively or genuinely deaf. By the time the voice's owner might consider pursuit, he had already breached the threshold of his classroom, slipping through the door like a thief. The first one is as always.
Soon after, Destiny would make his way to his seat, the one right in front of him.
"Guy. Where are you always running to?"
Tammy looked at him, with a questioning eyebrow.
"Always first and always speeding, without a care for the environment around him."
He grimaced, lowering his chin in sorrow.
"No need to apologise." He chuckled. "I wasn't accusing you, Drama Queen"
Immediately afterwards though, he'd revert back to his former stature. "Apas, we got a new student."
He shrugged, already resting his chin on top of his hands, retiring to the table.
"ALRIGHT 3A. OYA OYA OYA. SIT DOWN JOR."
Being good boys and girls, they did as they were told as Mr Ayomide walked into the class. The only teacher seemingly confident enough to wear a durag and still keep his job. The joys of a generational bridge.
"Alright, as you know class-" he quickly paused. "Oga, Brandon. New year means change o. Shut up. I'm talking."
Laughter was elicited. He was doing something right.
"As you know, or maybe have already heard, we have a new student this session. And I think this first period is a good time for you guys to meet up before I start the lesson. So uh…"
He gestured for the student to come in. And she did indeed. She stood as attentive as a soldier, upright and deliberate.
"Can you please introduce yourself?"
"Yes. Of course. Mandy Cherry."
…
"Are you going to say…anything else?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Am I supposed to?"
By this point, Tammy had already tuned the chatter out. He let his gaze drift toward the window, watching the tree branches sway lazily in the morning breeze.
"She looks rather familiar, doesn't she?"
Destiny had removed him from his trance. He cocked his head to the side.
"You don't think so?"
Tammy nodded.
"Either way, she's not my type."
Tammy rolled his eyes.