It's graduation day…
A day that marked the culmination of all his efforts for six years.
Femi was stuck in the back seats of a white van in his ceremonial gown.
The weather was hot and sunny. Parents were using their hands and electric fans to keep cool during the heat.
He was already gone from that seat, even though his body was present.
He had receded deep into his mind, trying to block out all the overstimulation assaulting his senses.
He was mentally dissecting the chord progression of the song he had played yesterday, trying to figure out why the suspended fourth resolved so perfectly.
It was just one of those random bouts of inspiration that reached him.
He mostly sat there thinking of how to create that feeling again.
Up on the podium erected in front of the tent, the headmaster, Mr. Tunde Bolatito, was droning and yammering about topics and nuances like "leaders of tomorrow" and "discipline."
The microphone kept screeching with feedback, making the parents, students at the front, and even him at the back cover their ears.
"When is this nightmare going to end…" he thought to himself, constantly checking his wristwatch.
Twenty minutes.
Just twenty more minutes of invisibility and blending into the crowd, then he'd be free of this bullshit.
"And finally…" the headmaster's words cut through his daydreaming and mind wandering. "We have a special announcement. A historic moment, not just for our school, but for the country!
For the first time in Nigeria's history," the man paused for dramatic effect, "a student of Margrave Secondary School has not only been accepted but offered a full scholarship into one of the best tertiary institutions on the face of the earth: Harvard University!"
The headmaster dropped a bomb that sent the whole crowd into a frenzy.
Harvard? America?
No fucking way!
It was never spoken of in any assembly that they were conducting a scholarship test.
'Who could have even won the scholarship itself…' he thought.
Maybe Chioma the head girl or Samuel.
The rich kid.
"I invite him to the stage, Mr. Adefemi Kehinde!"
Silence.
Absolute vacuum-sealed silence…
Hundreds of humans turned their heads at the same time.
They weren't looking at the head girl or Samuel, he hoped.
That would have made more sense to him.
They were staring at him, the NPC.
Tunde, who was sitting beside him, looked like he had just witnessed a crime and a miracle at the same time.
He elbowed Femi hard in the ribs.
"Guy, are you deaf?! The headmaster is calling you to the stage!!"
He slowly and shakily stood up.
His legs started to feel like lead.
He uncertainly but smartly walked down the aisle, feeling the weight of every stare.
Shock, envy, jealousy, disgust, confusion.
It was all there in the crowd.
'He doesn't talk. Him? How…'
He eventually climbed the stage and took an envelope from the headmaster.
"Say a few words to the crowd!" It was more of an order than a suggestion as the man shoved a mic at his face.
"I want to thank the school authorities and God for this opportunity. Thank you so much." He said and quickly returned the mic to the grinning headmaster. "Well, there you have it. Please give him a round of applause as he returns to his seat!"
He wasn't smiling.
He just wanted to escape whatever clusterfuck this was.
*********************************************************
Thirty minutes later, the ceremony had ended and dissolved into noise and confusion.
Parents taking photos of their children in graduation gowns.
Students running around with markers signing on shirts.
Femi was already plotting his escape route to rendezvous with his parents at a car park outside the field area.
"Hey! Mr. I-too-know."
Femi stopped. He'd probably recognize that voice anywhere. It was Samuel and two of his 'goons.'
They were blocking the exit to the tent.
"Harvard," he spat out the word like it was a curse, "YOU? As how now?...."
"Guy, excuse me. My parents are waiting for me…"
Samuel didn't care about all that and stepped in close, invading his private space. He shoved Femi hard in the chest, making him stumble back a bit, but that was it.
"Don't give me that quiet act. We both know it's bullshit," Sam sneered at him. "How did you do it? Did your father pay someone? Or did your mom use JuJu?"
Time seemed to slow down as Femi began to analyze a potential opponent.
Target: Samuel. Height: 6'1. Weight: Approx 90kg. Stance: Unbalanced. Aggressive. Left leg forward. Analysis: He is emotional. He is leaving his jaw wide open. A pivot and a palm strike to the chin would knock him unconscious. 95% probability of success.
Femi's hand twitched. A well-placed punch could drop this big buffoon.
Consequence Analysis: Violence leads to noise. Noise leads to authority intervention. Scholarship risk. Social escalation.
Inefficient.
His hands relaxed. He shut down the running simulation in his head. He didn't need to go that far. Not here, at the very least.
"Guy, I didn't pay anyone and don't talk about my mom like that. I read my books. Now if you would excuse me…"
He unhurriedly sidestepped the big guy and continued on his way. Sa
m was so confused by this guy's lack of fear that he didn't even say anything.
He just let him pass by.
Completely untouched….