It happened on a night that seemed ordinary. The dinner bell rang, and students began streaming toward the dining hall. Kalu, however, took a short detour. He stopped at one of the small school shops and bought himself a grilled fish, a loaf of bread, and a cold bottle of zobo. As he walked, he tore pieces of the bread, stuffing them with fish, sipping zobo between bites. The aroma clung to his fingers, but he didn't care—his hunger was already being satisfied.
By the time he reached the dining hall, the place was already buzzing. Students were seated at long wooden tables, chatting and teasing each other. Just then, a group of seniors swaggered in, their presence enough to silence the room.
"Everybody bend head—prayer time!" one barked. Heads lowered instantly.
In the middle of the prayer, the power suddenly tripped. The hall fell into total darkness. Gasps and nervous laughter rippled through the students. In the dark, Kalu heard plates shifting, spoons clinking, and the faint shuffle of feet—signs that someone was already using the blackout to their advantage.
From Kalu's table, someone whispered jokingly in the dark, "Stop taking that fish." The whole table stifled their laughter, shoulders shaking as they tried not to make a sound.
Unfortunately for them, just as the lights flickered back on, a senior was passing their table and overheard the comment. His eyes narrowed.
"Who took the fish?" he demanded, thinking the remark was serious—especially since that night's menu included jollof rice and fried fish. The room tensed; no one dared to move.
"No, senior, nobody," the boys replied in unison, their voices trembling.
The senior wasn't convinced. He began smelling their hands one by one, his face close enough for them to feel his breath. When he got to Kalu, the rich scent of grilled fish from the shop earlier was still strong. The senior's expression darkened.
"Ehn? You think say you smart?"
Before Kalu could explain, the first lash landed on his back, then another, and another. The sharp sting burned through his thin shirt as other juniors watched in stunned silence. Some felt pity; others were just relieved it wasn't them.
By the time the flogging stopped, Kalu's fish-filled stomach churned with pain. The laughter from earlier had vanished, replaced by the heavy silence of juniors who had just learned yet another Old FGC truth—sometimes, even an innocent fish can drag you straight into trouble, and no explanation will save you once a senior has made up his mind.