Maths
My korner mate Akposu and I have always had a very cordial relationship, though we have misunderstandings once in a while – just like friends do. I like Akposu so much because he comes from a very good Christian home. As a matter of fact, his dad a pastor in one of these conservative church (by their dress we shall know them). So you understand the kind of person I’m talking about. Everything about Akposu portrays a born again Christian. From his dressing, conversation and dealings with people. He is not only spiritually sound but also academically. Armed with this last quality, he decided to organize lessons for remedial and year one students. He pasted notices everywhere as well as meeting people one on one for the classes. Only God knows why people never turned up for the lesson. Only one remedial girl called Chika showed up. They agreed to be having the classes in our Korner. The lesson began in earnest. I personally praised the girl for her zeal to study because of her consistency; I never knew there was more to the class than meets the eye. Over time the tutorial graduated into ‘totorials’ in the sense that the original time of 4pm – 6pm was now 4pm – 10pm and light out periods were introduced – I think that’s when the exercises are being done. Further more; at the end of the classes Akposu (Mr. Lecturer) will walk his student back to her hostel.
One fateful Wednesday like that, I was about leaving for my fellowship. The search for handkerchief made me visit the bottom of my traveling bag after a very long time. That’s where I hide my “raincoats”. I felt some where missing but I wasn’t too sure. I never considered asking Akposu because he cant even behold such an ‘evil thing’ with his eyes not to talk of touching it, besides what will he be looking for in my bag? A knock on the door startled me. Chika was around, it was lecture time. She had Maths today. We exchanged pleasantries, and I left for fellowship.
Midway into service, the deck our dance group was to use was faulty so I had to rush back to carry mine in the korner. Getting to the room, the door was locked from inside. The light was on. Peeping through the window, brother Akposu (Mr. Lecturer) was really teaching his student Math. I watched with awe as he subtracted her clothes, divided her legs, added his pen and was multiplying his jabs. After watching his waist rock back and forth an infinite number of times, I called out from the window, “please differentiate first, I just want to pick something”. Immediately the 1 x 1 matrix was broken up. I walked into the korner; neither the student nor the lecturer was able to look at me in the face. Chika could barely cover herself. Her pant was behind the very deck I came to carry. I used her biro and picked the pant for her. When I was about leaving, I mockingly asked her if she understood or rather enjoyed the Maths! She was speechless.