Krisland, Ikeja.
The school precedes its reputation, one of the most prestigious in Nigeria. And of course, they'd be facing off against this dinky school from Illupeju in this year's state championships.
Well, dinky in comparison. The star debater would say very much otherwise.
Who was their star debater, you might ask? Well, I don't know either. Not many people in the school do, regardless of her academic and extracurricular valour.
And for Chiamaka Layomi, that was a bit much.
Her books hugged to her chest like a shield, as she quietly, deliberately threaded her way through the wide corridors. Her glasses slipped slightly, but she didn't push them back until she reached the door. One of the empty classrooms lies at the far end of the JSS classes.
Class was over for the day. Most students were outside in the halls. Eating. Talking. Living.
She had things to do.
"Thank you, ma," she whispered as her English teacher handed her the spare key earlier that morning.
Now, the room was hers.
She clicked the door shut gently behind her. A kind of hush fell over the empty space instantly.
Crunch time was creeping closer. At least, to her. There were around 7 days left till the Quarter Final against Shining Sun Schools.
She walked over to the third desk in the second row, the one with the sturdiest leg. Then, she opened her laptop. The screen flared to life, illuminating her face: pretty ebony dusted with faded acne scars, thick, practical glasses and lips pressed thin.
She checked her time, then sighed.
"She's late again."
No time to wallow. If he can 2 v 1, so can you. AI: FRIEND OR FOE? Her cursor hovered over "FOE."
Even though she already had four full pages of arguments, her brain refused to rest. There was always something she could refine. Rephrase. Reinforce. Cause it had to be perfect, against the person she was up against.
She plugged in her flash drive and opened a folder titled AI Crossfire - Layomi Drafts, subdivided into Affirmative Points and Opposition Counters.
She'd spent nights crafting this. Weeks. Emeka would have known it backwards. Emeka, with his easy grin and quicker wit. Emeka, who'd known how to soften her sharpest points, how to make the judges lean in, just well enough.
"The best thing I can do is not be overwhelmed."
She clicked on the last one.
"But how can I do that?"
Lines of typed notes greeted her, carefully bullet-pointed and highlighted in lavender and mint. A quote from a Judge of Tammy's semi-final performance last year sat at the top of the document in bold:
"He steals the stage effortlessly."
Her face warmed slightly as she stared at the sentence. Then she shook her head. Focus.
After all, that was against her.
She was halfway through revising her argument for the Regulation of AI when the door slammed open.
In strolled Joy Janet of SS1, AirPods in, chewing gum with the type of confidence only possessed by people who are too cool to carry pencil cases. Loud music blared from her headphones as she sauntered her way towards her, dragging a chair alongside it.
"Oh, we're doing research here?" she said, dropping into a chair like it owed her money.
Chiamaka didn't answer. She saved her progress, minimized her document, and gave a small, polite smile.
"You're late," she said softly.
"Fashionably," Joy grinned.
That just caused an eyebrow raise.
"Relax jare. It's not that deep. The topic is easy. We've got this."
Chiamaka blinked. "You think so?"
"AI is obviously not our friend. Our whole argument just writes itself. GPT bad. AI Art? Bad. Stealing jobs? Boom. Points."
I mean, fair point. But the stare from her compatriot painted a story of apprehension. She wasn't sure if Joy was joking.
"I would... advise against that... Overconfidence."
Joy popped her gum. "Come on. It's a public school. They won't stand a chance."
Chiamaka adjusted her glasses. "They're private."
"But they're not Krisland. Correct?"
"No. You don't understand." She opened a file and turned her screen toward Joy. "We're up against Tamuno-Ibi Davidson."
Joy stared. "Who?"
Chiamaka looked genuinely pained. "How have you never heard of him?"
"Are we in an shonen or something? I don't memorize other secondary school students."
"It's a Shonen. Also, that didn't stop you with Bradley, abi?"
She shook, almost waving away the image of him. "Enough about that."
Ensuring the topic was changed, she continued with the expository questions. "Have you even checked the portal fully?"
"Why bother? Shining Sun is all I needed to see," she readjusted her glasses. "In a two v two, Tamuno-Ibi is usually paired with a rando. Often just good enough to score average."
"That's very weird."
Joy leaned into her own computer. "So this person now, Amanda Cherry, she's a weirdo?"
It was almost as if her glasses cracked on their own.
"Say that again?"
"Stop acting like a weirdo, for God's sake. Jeez. AMANDA CHERRY."
It was almost as if a sinkhole opened up in her chest. The #1 and #2. Just like that. Together???
"How? I thought she went to Standard Bearing?"
"And how do you expect me to know?"
"Oh God. I- I need to-"
She frantically opened up a new document.
"Can you calm down already????"
She was snapped out of the void.
"You sef, eh? Try and act like a normal human being for once. "
A rather unnecessary comment from her supposed partner.
Chiamaka pushed her glasses up. "Let me put it this way. He's ranked number one in the country. Amanda Cherry is number two. She's brilliant... fierce. Insufferable. And ugly. And stupid."
"You might be trailing off here."
"You'd understand if you met her. She's a horrid human being that HAPPENS to be good at debating."
"If you say so."
But him..." Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. "He's... different."
"Different how? Does the boy have 6 heads? Please, abeg."
She clicked into another folder: Opponent Profiles.
Joy leaned in. "You keep these for everyone you face?"
"I'd assume they have an equivalent to this."
"Last year, I went against Amanda. I lost. Three out of three judges. Then I went against Tamuno-Ibi. I lost again. One of the judges clapped during his speech."
Joy frowned. "That doesn't sound fair."
Chiamaka didn't smile. "He's like a storm in a suit. It's not just that he's good. It's that he's..."
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"Built for this," she whispered.
Joy leaned back in her chair, cracking her knuckles. "Well. If he's such a big deal, we should beat him. What's the fun if we're not punching up?"
"You're not listening to me hear."
"No, you're just scared. You think we've already lost."
"That's not it!" Chiamaka's voice rose, too loud, for once. The word echoed in the room and startled both of them. She looked down immediately, embarrassed.
Joy blinked. "I didn't know your voice could get this high."
She crossed her arms. "This matters to me. Debating isn't just a club I show up for when I feel like it. I prepare. I respect the art of it. Tamuno-Ibi... is someone I admire. Someone anyone should admire as a debater. And someone, like anyone, I aspire to beat."
"You're giving me the ick right now."
"What does that mean?"
Joy squinted at her. "Wait. Is it like... you like this guy?"
She flushed. "N-no! Not like that. Just...his skill. And... his voice."
Her grin widened. "Ohhhhhh. Someone has a crush~"
"Please be serious for once. I've barely even talked to him."
She scooted closer, sing-songing. "Aaaaaaaabi"
"Get your elbow out of my ribs."
"Do me, I do you."
"Whatever. Just open up your laptop and work, please."
"Is that how you talk to your senior?"
"Which one again? I already said please."
Joy smiled. Then, she clasped her hands together.
"Alright, with that, will you show me what you've got so far?"
Chiamaka stared precariously
Joy shrugged. "Wicked girl. Do you want my help or not?"
She blinked fast. Then, she turned her laptop back toward herself and clicked open her notes.
"Okay. So. Our central thesis is that AI, ethically and equitably, is a net negative to humanity."
"Ok."
"Google it or something."
They worked quietly after that. Occasionally, Joy would ask for clarification, and Chiamaka answered, her voice growing more confident with each sentence.
When the sun finally dipped, the room turned gold. Shadows stretched across the tired students on the floor.
"I think we should pack up."
"Ah. Finally."
Bags scruffled against the silence.
"You think I'll do better than him?"
"No."
"Fair enough."
This wasn't her ideal setup. It wasn't the singular rhythm that Emeka provided. But now, she had Joy. Whether she will keep it, is another story. (Or in a few chapters)
"This feels like an inevitability."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing."
The last light of day caught her glasses. She shut them, pocketed the key, and let the silence finish her thought.