Chapter 5: The Academy

When I alighted at the Last Bus Stop in Kaduna for transits coming from Abuja. I took an Okada (commacial motorbike) to the address in the slip the Judge's assistant handed to me three days ago.

When the bike dropped me, I figured I

had made a mistake. The address didn't seem to match up with the building I faced.

This place didn't look like any school I had ever seen. It's more like a top celebrity mansion.

The way in was concrete driveway. The lower-chest walls also looked like concrete instead of blocks or bricks. It was topped with what seem like electric fence. The gate was a see-through iron gate with two wings that could be drag together to close. But what surprised me the more was that the gate stood ajar.

I checked the address again on the court

document. Right place. Right plot number 0077. With a little doubt and more tension, I stepped through the open gate and walked up the driveway, cautiously looking for any sign that indicates the presence of Canine creature.

You see those creature whose ancestor's name is Bingo, I'm not a fan of them at all. So I was very mindful of my steps.

In front of me stood an old British Three storey building but it look more modern. I guess it's been renovated craftfully by modern engineers. It mirror tinted glass windows were reflecting the sun into my tired eyes. Red tiled roof.

The driveway split into a circle, the building entrance covered by a roof extension, I guessed so that visitors wouldn't get wet stepping in and out of their cars during a downpour. In the middle of the circular driveway stood a fountain and a reflecting pool with some harmless pigeon about a dozen and half of them pitch on the edge of the fountain making their usual noise.

At least that gave me a clue that this isn't a ghost house.

An old brown statue stoop before me. It was a blindfolded woman holding a scale in her hands, with an inscription boldly writing on her forehead 'Justice is blind.'

Did the judge sentence me to a law school?... Who told him I want to be a lawyer?... Damn it! By the time I clear my doubts, and it's positive, I will put on Usain Bolt's sneakers and bolt like a Cat.

In my case, justice was truely blind, deaf,

and infact dumb to me. Samson, you did injustice to me. I flashed back.

I approached a double wooden doors and they swung open. A big black complexion guy with a blue suit, white shirt, and red necktie held it open for me. I stopped. This guy is so black as if he was bathed with charcoal water on the day of his birth.

Hardly anybody wore a blue suit with red tie. Looks awkward to me. This couldn't be the right place.

"You're a student?" the guy asked.

I nodded. Looking at my surrounding.

"First day?" he asked.

"Yes Sir ."

"That's right. Come in."

Cool, air-conditioned air attacked the sweats on my face. After riding in the early morning hot sun, stuffy bus, it felt refreshing to be bombed by a cool air.

I followed the huge black guy to the other side of the lobby. Sitting at a desk behind a counter, another big guy wearing an identical suit and tie, surrounded by TV monitors and a panel with lots of dials and buttons. It looks fanciful like an airplane cockpit. It was furnished with leather chairs, thick carpeting, and dark wood-paneled walls.

The guy monitoring the over a dozen led-monitors looked up from his joystick panel and asked, "anything for the guys?"

Remembering how the doorman warned me to be deferential. Not knowing if he was asking me such question like Police to Taxi drivers, I said, "Yes, sir," and handed the court documents to him.

He read the document and

consulted a computer by typing random jargon unto the display.

After some seconds.

"Your director is Dr. Dogonyaro Guntu," said the desk guy. "You'll need to empty your pockets of everything. I mean everything in or on your body, including your wrist watch. I'll keep your personal

belongings safe for you."

I did as he asked and he pointed me to walk through a scanner.

Desk guy and charcoal guy exchanged glances. That raised my inner antenna as to why? Their glance at each other was like an instant telepathy. And that bothered me. I just kept my cool.

"Follow me," blacky said.

We went to the back of the lobby to a thick,

wooden door with a silver burglary window.

Mr. Blacky punched a series of random numbers on the keypad and the door clicked from within, then he turned the knob .

He led me down a white tiled hallway to a door hanging ajar. He eased it wider as if I'm more plumpy than he, and he cleared his throat.

The man inside the office finger-waved me in. "Thank you, Mr. Porter." he said to the black guy.

Porter bowed his head, took a u-turn and closed the door behind him.

Dr. Dogonyaro and I stood facing each other. He wore a neatly pressed, white shirt with a starched collar, same red necktie as the others. But his suit was grey suit coat,

hung on a hook fastened to the side of a bookshelf behind him. I expected to see something strange, but my eyes couldn't reach that corner. At least, not that I could guess.

From his looks, I presume he should be in his fifties, but he appeared fit and highly staminared . His stomach didn't look like someone taking a late-night meal or the green bottles, and his biceps would

make any troublesome wife proud. In other words, it wouldn't be wise to mess with Dr. Dogonyaro.

He stared right through me with perpetrating brown eyes. "I'm Dr. Dogonyaro Guntu."

He picked up a sheaf of papers attached to a clipboard and eyed the

top page. "You must be Mister........ "

"-Phood," I interrupted having decided to not use my real name. I didn't want to be here and Damn it, I didn't belong here, whatever here was for.

Dr. Dogonyaro flashed me a menacing stare, but it only lasted a second. I guess he wasn't used to being cut off. "If you're more comfortable with a nickname, then so be it. It's a sign of a healthy self-esteem when a person chooses their own nickname."

He pointed to an expensive looking black leather chair beside his desk. "Have a seat."

I did as he asked. Despite looking expensive, the chair was lumpy and uncomfortable. It listed to one side, apparently the spring was loosed. It was like sitting on the back of an unstable Camel.

Dr. Dogonyaro parked himself in a chair behind his desk. He skimmed through the pages on the clipboard and glanced at me again with those boxer eyes of his. "Aggravated assault ko?" this time with slight Hausa Accent.

"Just defending myself," I napped, but Dr. Dogonyaro held up his palm, motioning me to stop talking. His gaze returned to the clipboard, obviously not interested in

what I had to say. Nobody cared what I had to say. Nobody cared what I had to say

about that incident. It seemed the world was against me.

While Dr. Dogonyaro studied the documents on the clipboard more, I checked out his office.

Pluto!.

It didn't fit with the rest of the building.

Nothing hung on the white painted walls, no pictures of family on his desk, no frills at all. Just a desk with a computer terminal, an intercom, two chairs, a filing cabinet, and unidentified book's shelf and something behind the shelf. Not even a clock on the wall.

Even the known Rat hole of our house had more stuff in it than this office.

The office scented of Old wood or faint tobacco.

Dr. Dogonyaro laid the clipboard on his desk and sat up straight, resting his hands on the desk. A long, uncomfortable silence passed between us until he finally spoke.

"You're here, Sing, on a court order. Our job at this academy is to provide you with a quality education. The environment here is highly regimented and disciplined, designed to keep you and your fellow classmates from getting into further troubles. This report tells me that you're a conscientious student. Is that true?"

"Yessss," I answered. Then I hastily added, "ssssir."

"That makes you somewhat unique. Most kids come here with a goat head on their shoulder, not giving a damn about learning anything, just wanting to put in their time for more troubles. We break such kids,

provide them with a strict education whether they like it or not." He smiled, the tips of his teeth protruding between his lips. "I won't have to break you, will I?" he added.

I cleared my throat, not liking the vibes he was vomiting. "No, sir."

"The academy specializes in students with high aptitude" he continued, "and who are orphans or come from broken homes. I'm the director here and understand the needs of young people like you, having been an orphan myself. I graduated from

this academy some time ago. But that's enough about me. The fact that you've been able to earn decent grades in a normal-city school system tells me that you're self-motivated. And that makes me curious."

He leaned forward in his chair, closing

the gap between him and his desk.

It seemed I smelled onions in his breath, the guy probably had a Gurassa (local pancake) for breakfast.

"What motivates you, Phood?"

I thought before I spoke. "I want to do well in life. Make something worth living for myself."

"How will getting good grades help you with that?"

At this point, the conversation started sounding boring to me. But I replied anyway.

"I want to go to health college. I want to become a surgeon."

Dogonyaro rocked back in his seat and waited. He said,

"You haven't answered my question. What

motivates you?"

What else did this man want me to say? I

shrugged."Most of the kids in the neighborhood live day-to-day. They usually do whatever feels good at the moment and don't ever think about tomorrow."

Dogonyaro sat there focusing those eyes on me like a camera in a photo studio.

Something was definitely wrong with this guy. I glanced at the door.

"Go on," he said.

"I already told you sir, I want to go to health college."

"Why?"

"I want to become a surgeon." I said using a frustrating tone.

"T know that. why do you want to become a

surgeon?"

He was getting under my nose repeating his

questions. I feel like punching his eyes. Enough of this frustration. "Look sir, what are you getting at?" I tempered. "I just

want a better life for myself and my mother and my little brother?"

Dogonyaro scoffed. "We all want something better. I'm going to ask you again. What is motivating you to want to become a surgeon?"

My frustration got the better of me. I raised my voice this time. "Because I want to live like a doctor. If I were a doctor I could move my poverty crippled Mom and my emotionally damaged little brother away

from the hell hole that we call home!."

Dr. Dogonyaro's voice remained in conversational level. He didn't react to

my outburst the way I would've expected him to.

"Now we're getting somewhere. What is it about a doctor's life that is different from yours?"

Was this guy a moron? Did I have to spell it out for him? Gripping the chair handles, I blurted,

"They earn lots of money. They're rich and respected and can do just about anything they want to without lack."

He leaned back further in his chair and locked his hands behind his head.

"What you're telling me is that you are motivated by the need for money."

After thinking about it, I calmed down. "Yes, sir. I suppose that's it." I Concord.

"You love your mother and brother and want to get them out of their current predicament right? "

"Yeah," I said. "I mean yes, sir."

"Fascinating ," Dr. Dogonyaro said. He rested his hands on the desk.

"Many kids who come here are selfish

reprobates. Unless you're scamming me, I believe you to be special, Phood."

He drummed the top of his desk

with his fingers.

"You aren't playing me, are you?"

That made me indignant. "No, sir."

"There are easier ways. Why not just deal drugs?"

Anger brewed within me. "Look, Dr. Dogonyaro!. With due respect, you don't know me. That's not who I am!."

"You're absolutely correct. I don't know you. That's why I'm asking these probing questions. Relax, Phood, Im going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Unless you prove otherwise, I'll take you at your

word."

"No reason not to," I muttered, still a bit flared.

"Phood, until you graduate, I'm going to be your counselor, adviser, big brother, father, friend, and disciplinarian all rolled into one. You have the right frame of mind to do well. In fact, you might even consider yourself blessed to be here. Nobody

and nothing will stand in your way of getting a good education under our structured care."

I sighed, suddenly feeling bored again. "What now?" I asked spitefully.

"Every new student is paired with a mentor" he said. I will introduce you to yours. Her name is Ekaiteh . She'll

show you around, get you oriented."

"A girl? There are girls here?" I asked, surprised.

The edges of Dogonyaro's lips quivered as if he was suppressing a smile.

"of course. Girls get into trouble too."

His face tensed into a more serious

look.

"Just so you don't get the wrong idea, we all

treat each other with respect. Do I need to

elaborate on what I mean by that?"

"No, sir, I understand."

"Another thing," Dogonyaro went on. "Never underestimate the fierceness of girls. I've seen them handle boys like you. Tear them to pieces."

He didn't have to explain that either. I knew the type from my life in the street, and I always avoided them like a plague.

"Well then," Dogonyaro said relaxing his posture. "Do you have any questions?"

I did wonder about one thing. "From the outside, this building looks deserted, and there's no sign or name or anything"

"We don't advertise what we are." he answered.

I also wondered. "Do kids ever leak out of here?"

Dogonyaro's facial muscles tightened. "Most new students go through a difficult period of adjustment, but if my judgment about you is accurate, you will adapt well."

"Yeah, but does anybody ever not adapt? If that happens, do they eventually end up going back to jail or escaping back to their normal lives?"

"Some end up going back to jail, some end up worse," Dogonyaro said.

I noted an unusual edge to his voice this time.

"What, then?" I pressed, sincerely curious. "I mean what happens to kids who can't adapt to here?"

He didn't answer. Instead, Dr. Dogonyaro fixed his eyes on mine accompanied with a cold stare. Then the sides of his lips curled up into a grimace, a terrifying face, cold and intimidating and predatory at the same time.

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