COLOUR OF TEARS

In 1971, after writing the Common Entrance Examination to secondary schools in the then Western State, a series of interviews followed as condition for admission. The interviews for two schools remained indelible in my brain because we had to stay for more than one day on the premises of the schools. They were Igbobi College Lagos and Government College Ibadan. For GCI, it was three days and after the interview, I remembered my dad telling my brother Folarin and me that it was GCI or no more schooling for us.
My first admission letter came from Igbobi College, followed by Mayflower School and then Comprehensive High School, Aiyetoro. While I chose Igbobi in my mind, my dad’s statement was always echoing in my brain. Finally, the admission letter from GCI arrived and I felt a great relief.

In the morning of the resumption date in 1972, my dad called to inform me he was going to take me to GCI in his best car then, and it was a rare privilege to ride in that car at that time. His everyday car was a Peugeot 403 with plate number WB 4755, while his “Limousine” that would take me to GCI was a Peugeot 404 with registration number WR 807.

I was dropped off at Swanston House with my box full of brand new pants and singlets and provisions. My first shock as a boarder came after about two weeks of resumption. All my pants and singlets were stolen! I knew it couldn’t be any of my classmates that stole, or “TOOK” them because we all came in with brand new sets. So, it had to be some seniors. But, woe betide you to ask a senior if he saw your pant or singlet by chance, not to talk of accusing a senior of stealing them. The second shock was that the Form 2 guys were so hard on us, just because they had just become seniors, and we were the only class they could punish or send on errands.
I remember a particular evening after having gone to fetch water from the black tank for three seniors, the house grounds was almost empty as most students had gone to the dining hall for supper. On dropping the last bucket of water by the bedside of the senior who had already left for the dining hall, I dashed to my locker to pick my cutlery and cup to head straight for my supper. Lo and behold, I heard my name from the far end of the dormitory, “Olubowale!
I kept quiet.
Then again, “Olubowale!”
And I answered, “Yes please”.
“Go and fetch me a bucket of water”, the senior said.
“Aagh!.. please now, I’m almost late for the dining hall and
They will pass my food away”, I responded. Then he walked slowly to where I was, “ehn!” he retorted.
The next I saw were different colours of stars from the hot slap he gave me.
Wow!
Then I looked around and realized that we were the only two left in the dormitory.
I slapped him back, and ran off to the dining hall. If I had been five seconds late, my food would have been passed away. Knowing fully well the implications of my action, I didn’t return to that dormitory that night. I sneaked to Carr House to go and sleep with Yemi George. But of course, you can only run in GCI, you can’t hide for long, I was caught and regretted the slap I dished him.
1973 came, and a brand new and modern house was added to the existing houses – Powell House was just too inviting. It was like mint notes from the bank. Using certain parameters, the school authorities selected students from each of the four houses to occupy this brand new house. I was fortunate to be one of them. In 1975, I was chosen as the Head of Powell House and the Commanding Officer of the school’s Cadet Unit.
The rest is history.
Let it be known to everybody. I couldn’t have attended any other secondary school, because GCI is the school. To God be the glory.

Culled From: Our story (1972 Set Anniversary book)
Submitted: SEGUN OLUBOWALE (SN 2482, Powell House)