HOLYGOES FIRE!

Rev. Fr. Okpojah sanctimoniously stepped into the class. The noisy class immediately became as silent as a cemetery. 

The Religious and Moral Education teacher walked leisurely in the aisle and asked, “What did we study the last time we met?” The class remained silent, as though no one heard him. We had an idea of the previous lesson which was about something fire but almost all of us had forgotten. 

Kwaku Peter, a pastor’s son, raised his hand. We heaved. Someone had come to our rescue. “Holy…” he began. The priest interrupted “Clap for him!” even before he could finish. 

 

We all chorused “Headmaster!” amidst the resounding applause. Kwaku Peter was so called because of his unusually big head. The cheers soon died out.

“Who can spell Holy ghost fire?” the priest dared. The class was silent again. Headmaster swiftly raised his hand once again, to our greatest pleasure. The reverend father sighed.

“Kwaku Peter, kindly stand up and walk up here” he instructed him. “Look at the serious student” he admired. Headmaster strutted to the front.

“If these we-refuse-to-think colleagues of yours have decided not to use their heads, I would force them to. Go round and show them how to think; a knock each!” he yelled.

Headmaster smiled. “Today you will see!” he whispered to Taiwo and me; the first seat occupants.

Taiwo, a Nigerian who after staying home learning a trade for God knows how long, had come to Ghana to school with us as a class three pupil. Goodness! He was old; as old as Olele.  

It was Headmaster’s payback time. Our sins? Earlier that morning, Taiwo had denied him a morsel of his gargantuan loaf of hard, crunchy tea bread. I, on the other hand, had also denied him the pleasure of playing my tselensa football a day earlier during break time.  

Headmaster paced menacingly towards us. There was no way either of us could feign illness to avoid his vengeance because the teacher had caught both of us arguing briskly earlier.

Headmaster grabbed Taiwo’s head and in a matter of seconds had already sunk two hefty knocks into his brain. Taiwo whined “Chineke. This boy don kill me finish!” 

The surprised priest cautioned “I said just one oo!” Headmaster nodded, grabbed Taiwo’s head and revengefully gave him another knock.

“Ah!” the priest exclaimed. “You said one so I started again!” Headmaster explained. “Ok. Just go on” he was hinted. 

All too soon, he was done knocking all thirty of us; heartlessly. He was panting for breath. “Now show them how to think. Spell it” the teacher demanded.

“H-O-L-Y-G-O-E-S-F-I-R-E” Headmaster screamed exuberantly. 

“Heeeerh!” the priest gaped. “This boy paaa!” he imagined. “Everyone should give him a knock, starting from Taiwo” he added. 

“I don kill this Headmastor boy today!” the infuriated Taiwo swore. Headmaster quickly dashed out of the class; the last that was ever seen of him.