Short Story Friends – MY FORTITUDE
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“Hey class, I could hear the noise from the other class. The fact that there isn’t any teacher in your class doesn’t give you the audacity to make unnecessary noise. Henceforth, class prefect, write down the names of all the `talkatives`. I will be back after my lesson with the form three class”.
Mr. Ackom, who was the English teacher, wore a yellowish-brown corduroy trousers with a v-neck striped blue t-shirt. He topped it with a pair of buckled brown shoes. Because he was seething with anger, he stomped out of the form two class. The class became dead mute for a while. The noise resurfaced after five minutes with an unmatched crescendo.
The year was 1996. My first day as a sophomore in the A .T &P J.S.S .It amazed me how the students spoke English with systematic fluency. The class prefect was Sammy. He was a stout, towering, intelligent and not -to-be-ignored spick-and-span dressed student.My desk was at the front row in the first line. The class prefect`s was the last in that line. I was contemplating the word “talkative“.What at all could that mean?
My last school was less privileged. Because, we had only two teachers for the whole school- Sir Abass and the head teacher, Mr. Klango. Other learning and teaching facilities such as text books ,blackboard, desks were also not available.This made the pupils to prattle and rattle vernacular with unimaginable, unabashed and inordinate relish. This plight made it difficult for me to understand certain simple English words. I got up from my desk and walked to Sammy`s desk to ingratiate myself with him to write down my name.I thought those whose names were written down were the well-behaved ones. Sammy looked at me with disdain and condescension. I returned to my seat with heavy head.
Mr. Ackom, whom we nick-named `king Kong` because of the punishing gimmick he devised, came back to our class after twenty-five minutes. He had in his hand a sizeable cane. With guttural voice demanded the list of `talkatives`. Sammy handed him the list. I instantly became nauseated upon seeing the cane.The names were mentioned: Veronica, Cynthia, Akrofi, Richard, Asantewa, Abanga, Kwamena, Eugene…. All `awardees` were `blessed` with `compensatory reward` of six lashes apiece. After Veronica received her `reward’,
I murmured about how foolish I had been to tell Sammy to write down my name. I became jittery, turned my head towards Sammy to see his reaction. He smirked and turned away. I heaved a sigh of relief when my name did not pop up among the `talkatives`. I realized instinctively that `talkative` was not a good word. A word which nearly exposed my learning foibles.I was very grateful to Sammy for that kind gesture. Nevertheless, Sammy and I became good friends. My mum was a bread baker.Sammy loved eating bread no matter the size. By giving him bread week after week, it strengthened our friendship.
But, another ordeal happened the following week. I was supposed to submit a social studies assignment on one Friday. I was late for the class. The time was about 9:15am. Madam Marilyn asked me why I was late.
I answered,” Madam, I sleep fine fine”.
The whole class of about 40 by now focused their attention on me. She wasn`t much bothered about my answer. She demanded the assignment.
I muffled,”P-lea-se madam, I-I didn`t did it”.
The whole class was thrown into frenzy. Some hooted. Others booed, danced all the way to my desk and even pulled my attire, all to my ungrammatical sentence. I was dazed. I couldn`t recall what transpired afterwards. The following Monday, I felt reluctant to come to school. When I did, I was very careful to speak. I resorted to using gestures and nodding to answer all questions. During the second break, Sammy approached and besought me to accompany him to the library. He advised me to read a lot to improve upon my English. He showed me how. The book I read first was by a South African writer Peter Abrahams titled “Tell Freedom“.I became enthused. The story had some similarity with my life.
From that day on I realized that I had mastered some new phrases and words and giggled along side. Occasionally, I used the dictionary. I wasn`t surprised at all when Sammy was unanimously appointed as the school`s boys` prefect when we got to form three. The school was set up by African Timber and Plywood company ltd., a timber producing company. It was by then government-owned. It was later diversified into the hands of expatriate company Samartex. The company is situated in Samreboi about 390 kilometres from Takoradi.
This unprecedented event of divestiture made hundreds of workers to be laid off. Sammy`s father and mine were victims of the redundancy. Shortly after this, Sammy lost his mother through road accident. She was returning from funeral ceremony at Asankragwa, a town about 19 kilometres from Samreboi.It was alleged that the driver who was commuting the funeral attendees was tipsy.Five souls were lost including the driver of the urvan bus. Dozen more were severely injured.Sammy`s mother was interred after two weeks.The funeral rite was performed there after.Hardly did Sammy broach the subject of his mother`s death. The week that followed made Sammy to fall into a state of forlorn.
The mantle of caring for a family of four partly fell on Sammy. He was the oldest of his two siblings.His father had invested in transport business. Two of his 33-seater Benz buses plied the route of Samreboi and Takoradi as commercial cars. One of them needed massive overhauling, but funds were not forthcoming and had to be sold at below-the-market price. Revenue from the remaining one was not sufficient for the upkeep of the family. In my case, both parents were alive. Needless to say, they divorced shortly after the downsizing. I and my two siblings had to live with our mother. My father got married to a new woman. He secured a job in Accra leaving us behind.
The economic hardship was unbearable. Sammy was good at fishing. His family owned two fishing nets. He taught me how to swim, hook and unhook nets. Our points of call were the Samre and Tano rivers.These rivers disgorged from the eastern and western corridors of the town respectively. At times our catch was nothing to write home about-fingerlings.In periods when we harvested bountifully, we had one dependable customer-Maame Ataa.She usually bought whatever stock we presented . She owned one of the biggest cold stores within the `Burma Camp` vicinity. The revenue was shared on pro rata basis. Never did I begrudge Sammy because he helped me-academically, emotionally, and economically.
After our Basic Education Certificate Examination (B.E.C.E), we had more time to transact our fishing business. Most often, we rowed our canoe to the middle of the river before dropping the nets. Sammy was 18 years. He was two years older than me. He fell in love with Tracy, our class mate, a daughter of one of the senior managers of Samartex. She was a beautiful girl by all standard. Sammy used to take her to prom at a pub called Samedi Soir.
After meeting the girl, Sammy told me the following morning how it was good to be in relationship. He seemed to be in ecstatic realm, highly elated. He reprimanded me for been reticent. He talked about some titillating things that made the “living organism between the thighs do an act of obeisance“.The girl`s father found Sammy and the daughter at their usual tryst one evening. He threatened to cast Sammy to cell. He insulted Sammy and labeled him a riffraff and nondescript. He alleged that Sammy wanted to take advantage of his daughter financially. He cautioned Sammy vehemently not to come near his daughter again.
The days that followed saw Sammy in an emotional anguish. I talked him out to be focused since much was ahead of us if we really wanted to attain secondary and tertiary education. At first, he was adamant. He grimaced, gibberished, and looked into my eyes sternly and said,“ Eddie, you haven`t loved and be loved before so you don`t understand a thing. So you better shut up!“.
I was hurt at his outburst. Later, I did a soul-searching and realized he was not far from the truth. I hardly spoke to ladies, especially beautiful ones. By nature I was not gregarious. Did that make one a gnasher? It was very had for Sammy to keep his distance from Tracy. But he `managed`.
These unwarranted events nearly marred our friendship. But it was salvaged through constant conversation and raillery we had as we worked together as “fishermen“.Usually,the nets were cast in the evening and the next morning, we checked them out to see our catch. At times we encountered snakes slithering and sliding in the water. They looked fearsome. We never had any problem with these reptiles.
An unfortunate incident happened on 7th September 1997 when we were in the middle of the Samre River casting the nets.I was caught by a gushing current. I was dislodged, lost my breath and was tumbled by the water which meandered me towards a higher current. I nearly drowned. Sammy was a real McCoy of a swimmer. He plunged with adept swiftness towards me. He caught my slippery hands and strapped me onto his back. He swam to the shore. He then waded through the water where it was shallow and squelched through the mud till we reached the shoreline. I gasped. He resuscitated me on the ground. The amount of water I had gulped came out through my orifice. I felt groggy. When I came to, he escorted me to the house leaving the nets at their usual hideout. I became passive and apprehensive after this incident in working in the rivers.
After some few months, our B.E.C.E result came.We both passed to the senior secondary school.Sammy secured admission in Asankragwa Senior Secondary School. I had my admission in Saint John`s Grammar School, Accra. Today, we both have the university education we yearned for. Considering the tentacles and hurdles we surmounted, at times flashback makes tears well up in my eyes. It`s been long time since I saw Sammy who is at abroad now; but we do communicate via phone and e-mail. The next time I see Sammy I will tell him “hey Charlie, don`t be talkative“.
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