Fiction Stories: Dairy of a campus episode 17

EPISODE 17

We both gazed at each other, overwhelmed

with the guilt of my roommate’s death. I tried

to figure out who might be knocking but all

effort failed.

“Please who is there?” I politely asked.

“Is Emeka in?” The unknown person asked.

“No, he’s not.” I dismissed the fellow.

I was no longer comfortable with Bayo

hanging out with me. I am still safe since no

one knew about me being present where the

gun was shot, I thought. I decided to take

actions immediately, separating the cord that

glued us together.

“Bayo, I want to take my bath now.” I

graciously said to discharge him out of my

room.

“Ok. Don’t stay too longer.”

“You are funny” I said and asked, ”how does

my bath have to do with you?”

“Nothing. I just want us to be together.” I

replied and grinned.

Giving him a reply would only broaden the

conversation and make my intentions known,

so I ignored him. I undressed leaving only my

pant on. I gazed at Bayo whose neck is tilted

at an angle of depression. I tried to ascertain

what he was lost looking at by matching his

eyeball to the exact direction. I quickly did. I

was shocked to find out that he was staring at

the shape of the object bulging out of my

pant. I swiftly grabbed my towel and wrapped

it around my waist to disrupt his disgusting

view; ‘I am gay’ isn’t written on his forehead. I

decided to pick my clothes, my sneaker, my

bag and forge out of the room.

“Are you going to the bathroom with all

those?” He asked with a bewildered look

pointing to all I was holding.

I looked at all I was holding and replied, “Yes.

Any problem? That’s how I do my thing.”

I left him wondering. I dropped my clothes,

shoe and bag on a bench in front of the

bathroom. I picked up a bucket and strolled

down stairs to fetch water. I arrived to meet

other guys ready to fetch water at the tap.

They lined up their buckets like primary school

pupils on assembly. My bucket was seventh

on the queue and the water was dropping out

of the tap like someone crying; too slow.

I had no choice than to hang around and wait

for my turn to fetch. I decided to join a guy

who sat quietly on a short abandoned tank.

“I am Banji.” I said, stretching forth my hand

for a hand shake.

“Buhari.” He replied, accepting my hand

shake.

“What are those guys arguing about?” I asked,

pointing to some guys gathered chatting.

“Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” I asked.

“That some people were killed at Obasanjo

hall yesterday.” He replied concerned.

“I didn’t o.” I lied and asked, “How did it

happen?”

“I heard it was a guy that shot his roommate.

People heard him shoot twice yesterday

night.”

“I guess he must have been arrested by now,

huh?” I cajoled him for more information.

“No o! The guy ran away.” He sadly replied.

“That guy own don finish because he is

already rusticated even before facing the

police.”

“But we can’t be so sure if he was the one

who shot his roommate.” I tried defending

Bayo.

“Free advice Banji, don’t talk about the case

o, else you will implicate yourself.” Buhari

adviced. “It’s a murder case and the school

won’t take it trivially.”

“Ok. I won’t. Thanks bro for the advice.”

Buhari stood up, we shook and he went to fix

his bucket under the tap, he was next. I kept

brooding over what Buhari said for minutes

before it got to my turn to fetch water. I

fetched and hurried to the bathroom to bath. I

dressed up and prepared myself in the

bathroom. I tiptoed like a thief towards my

room to confirm if Bayo was still present, I

peeped through the window and saw him lying

on my bed. I quickly retreated, spread my

towel on the railing of the corridor and set

out.

I walked towards the school security office to

report the case to them. I wasn’t ready to be

implicated and thereafter rusticated. I

increased my pace every time I remembered

Buhari’s advice. Police vans all over the

place. I got to the security office seeing a lot

of people gathered and scattered in

respectively. I was scared, so scared that I

thought to myself to go back. How can I go

back when am almost an active participant of

the crime action? I asked myself. Letting the

security men aware of the criminal will keep

me on a safe side, I supposed.

I moved closer to the building and walked to a

man dressed in the school security uniform.

“Good morning, Mr Okanlawon.” I greeted.

He surprisingly looked at me and asked, “how

did you know my name?”

“Your name tag Sir.” I replied, pointing to his

chest.

“Ok. Good morning.” He said and questioned,

“what can I do for you?”

“I want to see the Chief Security Officer.” I

calmly said.

“CSO? He is busy, so busy.” He replied.

“Perhaps, students aren’t allowed here by this

time.”

“Please Sir, It is urgent and very important.”

“Ok. What’s you name?”

“Banji.”

“Wait, am coming.”

While I sat under a tree outside the security

office waiting for Mr Okanlawon to return, I

saw Kofo from afar walking along side with a

boy to class. Kofo and the boy were too close

to be just friends. I grabbed my phone in a

jiffy and dialed her number while I fixed my

eyes on her. She answered the call.

“Kofo, where are you?” I bossily asked.

“I am where I am.” She replied me.

“Kofo, I said where are you?” I asked again

with a deeper voice.

She hung up the call and they both giggled. I

guess they were making jest of me. I felt so

bad. Should I go after her or should I wait for

Mr Okanlawon to return?

TO BE CONTINUED