I remember it was one of those clear, sunny days. You know—those days that will give you absolutely no clue that something bad was going to happen. Everything was going as planned, I had an exam that day and my confidence was shooting through the roofs; the neighbourhood parent who always took me to school came early, so I wasn’t late too; one of my long time crushes even waved to me!
“It doesn’t get any better than this.” I wondered. I had no clue—absolutely none…
The Junior WAEC. We’d all been told the stories: if you didn’t pass, then there was no senior school for you. Anyways, before I entered the hall, I had this all-too-familiar tug in my body, and my brain seemed to say,
“Testimony, you need to use the loo, now.”
The invigilator was already calling us in, and I’d hate to be on any teacher’s bad side, with the amount of slippery French lexicon I had crammed, flying around in my brain. Consequently, I dismissed the thought; after all, what’s one or two hours of holding it in—or so I thought.
And so, I went into the exam hall, all “confident-boy”, and all that, got my seat, got my papers, and settled in to write the objective part. Mehnn, that paper was so sweet; I couldn’t stop smiling throughout. Submitted that, and then…started waiting for the second one.
Now here’s where it begins to get interesting. After about an hour and thirty minutes into the exam, the strict (note the word “strict”) invigilator notified us that we were not going to be receiving the second part anytime soon—as there was a delay from the Ministry of Education.
It was then that I remembered that I was supposed to go to the loo earlier. After waiting for a few minutes, I decided to raise my hand and inform the invigilator that I had to “ease myself”. The first bombshell: No, I was not allowed.
I damned the consequences and asked “Why sir?”
He crinkled his brows and announced, “For the first two hours, no one is allowed to go out of the exam hall!”
Reluctantly, I sat down, hoping that either the urge would have to calm down, or the second paper would have to be brought really soon.
Neither happened. In fact, thirty minutes later, word came that we would all be waiting another two hours for the next paper!
“Two Hours!” I almost screamed aloud. I was done for.
Damning the consequences yet again, I decided to raise my hand to ask permission to “take a leak”, as we called it then. Hoping that my improved sense of grammar would at least humour him and he’d agree. He didn’t o—claiming that he knew how students operated and could sense our “not-so-smart” tactics a mile away.
“Jesus! This man actually thinks I want to cheat,” I thought.
By this time, I was almost running out of my mind, sweating and frantic with panic. I kept shaking my laps, hoping that the movement would cause it to go away. It seemed like I was about to be taught a lesson.
But thank God for God—and fantastic ideas. Suddenly, a “bright” idea came to my mind. Believe me, if you were in my position, you would have thought the idea was bright too.
Therefore, it went like this: I would rest my head on the locker, wait until the “perfect” moment, and then ease it all away. Hoping that others would think someone poured water or something. I thought it over repeatedly, and resolved it to be the best course of action.
And so I rested my head, waited and then… the flood came running down. Ah! Such sweet relief—it was as if the angels in heaven were simultaneously playing a melodious hymn. To be sincere, at first, I only wanted to ease myself a little; you know, to take the edge off. Then, the relief was so pleasurable—I didn’t even know when I had finished.
You see, in my brilliant plan of action. I had forgotten a most crucial point—the smell! As I was still in the position of lying face down, it hit me like an avalanche.
“Jesus, what did I eat this morning again”, I wondered.
Then the worst happened, the folks around my table began picking at the smell.
“God please let them forget about it. Lord please, let them forget about it,” I prayed.
Unfortunately for my poor soul, nothing of the sort happened. I guess it was a miracle the whole hall didn’t perceive it or anything—but the damage was done.
Repeatedly, I kept hearing snickering remarks from those around my table, thinking I was sleeping. (Oh! The horror). And there was even a fine girl among them too! (Testimony, see your life).
It was when the next paper arrived (about five hours into the exam) that Mr Teacher thought it wise to let everyone go ease themselves. I couldn’t stop shaking my head for myself—in my head of course (#facepalms)—I was still keeping the “carefully crafted” façade of me sleeping on my desk.
Subsequently, it was even the fine girl that “woke” me (#sniffles); I wrote my paper and vamoosed from the hall as fast as I could. I think I still got a C in the French sef. So much for international languages, uh?
So, that’s my story. I sincerely hope you found this—at least a little bit—funny. Next time you enter an exam hall, please and please make sure you are not feeling any urge to ease yourself. Better still; ease yourself by force.
To those concerned (#coughs), I didn’t urinate on my body that day o—at least not literally, anyways (#smirk)
After writing this particularly embarrassing story, if I find out that you read and didn’t comment, or rate—Hmm…God no go shame us o.
I rest my golden pen.