In Old FGC, dignity was a luxury. And nowhere was it more obvious than the toilets.
One night, after a long evening prep, Kalu Egbe and Nedu rushed back to the dormitory, stomachs twisting.
"Garri and beans don start war," Nedu groaned.
They raced to the toilet block—only to find the doors locked. A note hung from the latch: "Closed. No access. Seniors only."
Fireboy arrived, clutching his stomach. "Who lock am?"
Kalu scanned the area. "Na Senior Big Mouth. I hear am talk say juniors too dirty."
"Dirty? He no dey see himself?" Nedu snapped.
Desperation grew. Juniors gathered, some pacing, others already sweating. No one dared challenge the lock.
Whispers filled the air. "I go do my own behind the classroom." "I no fit hold am."
Kalu clenched his fists. "This na wickedness."
By midnight, boys squirmed in pain. Someone cried quietly near the water tank. Fireboy cursed under his breath. "I go burst this door."
They tried pushing, pulling, even picking the lock with wire. Nothing worked. One boy ran behind the hostel but returned quickly, shaking his head. "Too dark. Snake fit dey."
Sweat poured from their foreheads. The pressure was unbearable.
Then, footsteps echoed. A matron's voice rang out. "Who dey for toilet block this time?"
Fear froze them. Kalu stepped forward. "Ma, we no fit use toilet. Seniors lock am."
The matron stormed closer, her torchlight blazing.
"Who give them right?" she barked.
Within minutes, she found the key and flung the door open.
"Any boy wey lock toilet again, I go report una straight! And this time, I go carry cane!"
Juniors scrambled in relief, some barely making it inside.
Later, under the mango tree, Fireboy sighed. "For this school, even toilet na war."
Kalu nodded. "But today, we win small."
Nedu grinned. "Tomorrow, I dey bring padlock. Make I lock my food safe too."
They laughed, their voices cutting through the night.
In Old FGC, every victory—no matter how small—was worth celebrating.
To be continued...