SERIAL MURRDERANCES. Episode 3

 Hay, wonderful people, We are really sorry for the lack of consistency in updating the series.....
     This is a continuation to the series. My friend (the writer), has decided to make us see the story as being not only about the main character but also about others.... Enjoy!!!

Serial Murderrances :  'THE TERRORIST(CLASSROOM DRAMA)'pt1


     When Dr. Mohammed,the constitutional law lecturer walked into class that monday, fourteenth of May, we were not surprised at his fitted, expensive and neatly pressed suit. That was usual. We were rather surprised at the military manner in which he marched into the classroom and the series of orders he barked to the class rep:"class rep, close d door, close the window and turn on the light". The class rep promptly did as he was ordered.
Judging by his previous antics,most of us considered the doctor to be on the other side of sanity but nothing could have prepared us for today's show.
        I was sitting at the back row of the class with the 'bad boys' whom I found more real than the hypocrite geeks who always jostle for the front seats.
When Dr. Mohammed looked through the length of the class and our eyes met just for a second I thought I saw a shadow of something like fear behind his spectacles but I couldn't be sure.
When he spoke his voice was surprisingly calm. "ladies and gentlemen, I do not think that I remind you that this may well be the worst period in our nation's history". His grammar-perfect English, spiced wit a small hint of Hausa Accent, was music. "our country is currently in the midst of a crisis which can disintegrate it. A crisis which if not contained can contain Nigeria itself inside a container and bury it under".
He unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie. His voice was rising with every word. ''A crisis which has left many innocent lives dead. A crisis caused by d parochial mind sets of uncivilized beings and festered by the greedy ambitions of the unconscionable few. A crisis pampered by the failure of leadership while the perpetrators of the crisis rewrite Nigeria's history in blood, burnt and scattered body parts''.
        The doctor now fully animated dramatically dropped his voice from d home-theatre-top-vol­ume-level to a low whisper, "a crisis which reveals the embarrassing fact that 50 years after independence, Nigeria cannot tame the monsters in her backyard''.
'I knew it! the boko boys!' whispered Tade excitedly into my ears in the voice of a scientist who had successfully bred a dinosaur in his backyard. He thought he had whispered but in the almost tangible silence that greeted Dr Mohammed speech, his voice carried and all the class heard him including the doctor.
       Tade was a very unserious fellow who doesn't quite understand the meaning of the word 'quiet'. Nobody wants anything to do wit him, except me and sometimes I bail on him.
So when I saw Dr Mohammed coming purposefully towards him, I shifted my seat ever-so-slightly away from him in order not to share in his dressing down. ''Young man" said Dr Mohammed, now in front of Tade. ''What did you just say?"
'I said the boko boys' replied Tade, the hint of a smile on the edges of his mouth. "And what is d meaning of that?" 'It is the urban slang for Boko Haram'
Tade was now pleased with himself and was finding it hard to keep a straight face, what with the smile threatening to break into a grin. "Ah, u find this amusing, don't you? I bet u would not have found it amusing if one of your relatives had been a bombing victim and you had to go gather the burnt and scattered remains". The words were a bombshell and it created a deafening silence inside the class Tade was stunned and the smile disappeared off his face, leaving in its wake a blank stare. I couldn't guess what the rest of the class was thinking but I for one thought that the words were too much, even more so, coming from the mouth of a lecturer. But whether or not the words were too much nobody dared speak.
      The silence, deepened by d closed windows continued. The only sound were the tick-tock of the wall clock, suddenly loud and the click-clack of the doctor's shoes as he walked back to d front. "WHERE IS BABALOLA?", the doctor thundered. He seemed to have been angered by that lil episode wit Tade. If he was raging fire before, he was now an inferno.
        Laide Babalola is a drop-dead gorgeous chick whose shapely bosom and rounded derriere the guys cannot seem to get enough look at. Aside from the Samsung Galaxies, the Iphones, the Blackberries and the angry birds inside them, Laide Babalola was the number one distraction in class. Guys waste lectures craning their necks from wherever inside the class just to get a good look at her.
The most surprising thing, however, is that she is probably more intelligent than any member of d class. Her intelligence had guys calculating just what are the odds of a person combining the sexy looks of Munachi Abi with the brains of Hillary Clinton.
She was Dr Mohammed's favorite. He call her Babalola. We call her Barbie.
Barbie stood up and said in that bed-side whisper, 'I'm here'. "Tell me", the doctor addressed her from the front. "what are d constitutional ramifications of this Boko- Haram menace?
'Sir' answered Barbie 'the problem is more sociological and political rather than constitutional and I doubt if there is a constitutional solution to it.....

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