My best excuse...that led to a life or death situation.
The weekend is here again with episode of WEEKEND ENGAGEMENTS. I haven't been very active on hive so this is my first participation in this weekly prompt. I hope the weekend's been lovely for you guys, mine? Not so good. I am disappointed that I cannot use either of these laptops for my programming courses, my teacher says they'd crash...there goes my plans for the holidays🗑️.
I am not one to give excuses often for the reason that I hate doing something. Even I'm situations where I have aversion for a thing, I suck it up and do it not for me, but for others.
However, one thing I hate with passion is sweeping with a broom—not a tiled floor, not a cemented floor, but a sandy, dusty, greasy, dirty, littered floor! This was the condition of most of the walking areas back in my secondary school days.
I attended a boarding school so it is strictly expected of us to be on the labour ground as early as 7:00am on weekends. The chores distributed by the prefects include sweeping the aforementioned category of floors, fetching water for teachers, washing lavatories and cutting grass(in rainy season). All students from all classes/grades are included in this exercise except JSS1, since they are still newcomers and SS3, because they are the highest class.
One Saturday morning, the sound from loud whistles pierce the cold air of dawn, students coming down from their bunk beds in fear, not of loud whistles, but of what accompanies them—the hissing sound of two-tailed whips...
Hundreds of students all gathered at the labour ground in no time, and, as a fresh JSS2 student, I sorrowfully mourned the loss of the special treatment I used to receive in JSS1. The perfect came with their whips, mercilessly flogged the latecomers and the sluggish ones, injuring some in the process. Portions where allocated to each class and unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, JSS2 was given a large field—a sandy, dusty, greasy, dirty, littered field!
Disgust struggled to make its appearance on my face obvious but fear of prefects overpowered it. I stood there, frozen.
"I don't sweep, I have asthma", I lied firmly.
"What?" A perfect asked with an angry, provoked, and threatening voice.
I repeated myself and lied to him about how, even at home, I don't sweep and how I almost died because of dust when I did try to do it. He didn't in the least look convinced and demanded for proof which I don't have. Somehow with the interference of another prefect, he let me go.
In that same week, JSS2 was permanently given the sweeping portion so that meant no more labour day for me. Mehn....was I happy! I used labour time to eat, sleep, an read novels!
However, in subsequent weeks, the attitude of some of my classmates started changing towards me, they don't talk to me, they frown when they turn in my direction, and they don't even reply my Salaam. This was obviously because they get to sweep their asses off at the same time get their asses whipped with canes when they do an unsatisfactory job, which was usually the case, while me on the other hand, get to do whatever I wanted simply because I told a good lie! This made me feel guilty and yes, it was truly an injustice to them, so I decided that in the following weekend, I would meet the labour prefect to let me fetch water for teachers in exchange. There was no way I was sweeping dirty floors no matter how they felt!
Sadly, before weekend came, some jealous, gossiping ass classmates had already met the labour prefects and told him that I was pretending, that I had no asthma. They busted my lie!
The labour prefect sent for me. That dude was one of the most wicked, most vile prefects there were. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep on my back by the time he's done with me. I was literally finished. After 15 appalling, horrendous strokes of the infamous two-tailed whip on the back, I swear I screamed for my mum and dad who were miles away! This dude didn't even give me time to console my ruined back before tossing a broom in my direction and showed me the bane of my life—a sandy, dusty, greasy, dirty, littered field! It was so dirty that I thought he littered it on purpose as punishment before I arrival. I didn't budge. There was no way I was gonna sweep that. An additional 6 hard strokes of the cane made me sweep about a quarter of the field in no time without even knowing, there's indeed nothing that the "magic strokes" cannot do...
I swept all of that field shedding tears, with dust filling my eyes and nose. By the time I was done, I looked like someone dug from a sand dune.
He called me and started admonishing me, but I wasn't paying attention. I was more conscious of my breathing which was becoming more laborious with each exhale. In no time, I was seriously struggling to get air into my lungs. I was groping for objects near me to help me remain calm, but couldn't stay calm, my eyes closed slowly....I blacked out.
I woke up in a hospital with the hostel admin and head boy on one side of my bed, my mom on the opposite side with a worried look on her face. I asked what happened and she said "just get better dear..".
Fast forward to me convalescing at home, I was told that the pneumonia illness I usually have during cold seasons since when I was a kid had become asthma. She said that the asthma attack I had was so severe that I could have died..... I didn't bother to hear what saved me, I was already in tears. My thought at that time was that God has punished me for lying.But then I had it all along without knowing, so it wasn't technically lying....or was it?
At least I now have a solid reason not to sweep sandy, dusty, greasy, dirty, littered floors without having to face a moral dilemma🙂.
Thanks for reading guys!
Have a lovely weekend!❤️❤️❤️
