I remember September 9, 1979, the first day I arrived Command Secondary School, iron box, big iron bucket and all. Immediately I was shown my dormitory and where to stash my few belongings, I was attracted to noise coming from one medium sized hall, which I later came to know as the Common Room. There, I saw a group of senior students playing a keen game of table tennis and I stood, watching. Shortly after, I regretted my action. One of the senior students had lost the game and his anger clearly showed on his face. Unluckily for me, his eyes somehow focused on me and before I could look away, he thundered, "Stupid junior student! Are you looking at me like that?! Why are you laughing!? Idiot! Kneel down! Hands up, close your eyes! Open your mouth!" Shocked to my very marrows I struggled to comprehend and obey the staccato flow of insults instructions. Ten minutes later, he ordered me to stand up and go to my hostel, even this in threatening tones. "Run!" he screamed at me. "Didn't you hear me? I said run, idiot!" in tones that suggested he might soon change his mind. I didn't need much persuasion and hightailed it out of there. I later came to know him as Moses Ifarome, a gentle, harmless student two years my senior! That was my baptism of fire; I had been less than one hour in school! It was also my first encounter with the strict disciplinary code operated in Command Secondary School Jos. What a welcome. Still the little child that I was, I went to the hostel, buried myself in the giant blanket on my bed and cried my heart out. It was while I was crying that someone gently tugged at my blanket. I reluctantly and cautiously pulled back the blanket and peeped out at a young boy about my age. "Are you not going to the dining hall to eat?" he asked peevishly, then, noticing that I had been crying, asked alarmingly, "Who beat you?" I opened my mouth to speak, and memories of my unwarranted humiliation rushed back to my mind, and it was tears that came out in torrents. This boy stayed with me and encouraged me to be strong; together we went to the dining hall for supper. I later came to know him as Moses Martins Yuguda, like me a soldier’s son from Adamawa State. He was not only my Independent House mate, but was also in Class 1B like me. Needless to say, we became close friends throughout secondary school and competed keenly in both academics and on the sports fields. He was a great athlete on the tracks while I was more into field events like football, handball, volley ball and long jump. Try as I did, I could never outrun Moses in the 100 meter races in which we competed repeatedly. On his part, he recognized his inadequacies in other games and restricted his foot-balling to the five-aside games we usually played on the quadrangle in our hostel while I was drafted to play for the school team as early as in Form 3. Like I said, secondary school opened up an entirely different world to me. For one, it was the first time I was experiencing total freedom away from family. Secondly, it was the first time I came close to, and really experienced the beauty of television. Due to a combination of our humble background and fate, I had never watched TV before going to Command Jos. The old man couldn't afford one when we were in Port Harcourt, and by the time we got to Yola, no television station had been established there. There was nothing like satellite or cable television then, at least not in the part of the world where we grew up. So I went to Command at almost 14 years without the experience of watching television. In the Common Room where I had my baptism of fire, we had a standing Quintrix colour TV (I even remember the model) with sliding covers which opened or shut the screen. In spite of my bitter experience there, that Common Room became my destination of choice, especially in those first few months in school. On weekends when we were permitted to watch television, you could always catch me sitting on the bare floor squarely before the screen, statue like; (it was unheard of for us juniors to sit on chairs) and keep my eyes glued to the colourful screen, avidly soaking in all and everything being televised; Chariots of Fire and the second coming couldn't drag me away from that place. Only at lights out when we were detailed to be in bed would I reluctantly drag myself off to bed, sometimes teary-eyed with frustration. Sometimes I would be sent away from watching television to perform some errand or other by senior students, and I would leave, bitterly complaining under my breath. Oh, how I hated those seniors! The third lasting impression secondary school had on me was that it made me discover and appreciate my self-worth both in academics and other extracurricular activities. I got into Command with the rather playful, carefree and undisciplined disposition of most barracks children. The freedom that came with being in boarding school in far away Jos merely provided an avenue for the wilder side of me to manifest. All the impulses that I was forced to suppress by the circumstances of my restricted and disciplined family upbringing surged to the fore. Those wild instincts I didn’t possess naturally I picked up from boys from bigger cities like Lagos, Port Harcourt, etc. My recently discovered love of television grew into love for cinema. In groups usually led by senior students we would sneak into Jos town about ten kilometers away to watch films at Kwararafa and New Era Cinemas; other cinema houses like Scala and Rex were also operational, but these were our favourites because of the variety of films they featured. Chinese and Indian films were the vogue then, and we would go to great and absurd lengths, risking suspension and even expulsion, just to watch them. Often times we had to trek the over ten kilometre distance back to school, given the lateness into which the films dragged! Smoking and alcohol consumption were common features of these adventures, and though I didn’t smoke (somehow I never have), I imbibed my fair quantity of the liquid stuff. I remember that my closest pals on these sneaking expeditions were usually my classmates Joseph Dogonyaro, Babatunde Laniyi, two giggly youngsters slightly younger than me, and Pius Ewa, a rascally boy whose birth and sojourn in Lagos had already exposed him to the wilder side of life in big cities. My best pal however was Saleh Magaji Tijani Saleh, popularly called ARGENTINA, another classmate whose weird ways were the talk of the entire school. He was gifted at Fine Arts and would often score ten over ten in most assignments! In school, I would be the last to leave the playing fields, often playing football and other games in my full school uniform. Inevitably, I became one of the dirtiest students in school. I was also very loud, sharp tongued and easily indulged in exchange of insults which we called "yabis". Considering that I was rather frail and too tall for my age, it was very daring of me, but it got me one or two good beatings I can never forget. Going to church was another tradition I completely abandoned, in spite of the strict regime of church activities I had been forced to engage in throughout my stay at home. I used to read a lot, but this was restricted most times to the James Hadley Chase, Nick Carter and other best sellers which Jo had introduced me to after leaving primary school. I was also very famous for my love of country music, especially songs by Don Williams, Kenny Rogers, Dan Seals, Dolly Parton and numerous others which I was always singing. At a point I had a full 80-leaf Exercise Book in which I had dutifully copied almost a hundred Don Williams songs. Sadly, this treasure was stolen by someone; till date I suspect a female classmate who was equally addicted to the late legend’s songs. Those were the years when artists like Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Bob Marley, Jimmy Cliff, Gregory Isaacs, Peter Tosh and several others held the world spellbound with their brands of music! I loved these artists with uncommon passion; their message of the emancipation of the black race from oppression by white supremacists appealed to the romantic side of my nature and firmly held me captive: it still does. Of course, this dedication to extra-curricular activities meant that my academic pursuits were somewhat relegated to the background, and I paid the price for this in my first term in school. Now, Command had a curious and very challenging examination grading system which was based on the total number of students in a particular form. For example, in Form 1, we were 140 students split into classes A - D, and exams would be graded overall. By the time results for the first term exams were released, I came 14th out of 140, which to me was a decent result and did not bother me at all, until we resumed for second term. Through discussions, I discovered that several of my classmates whom I considered less brilliant than me, had passed ahead of me in the exams. Hey! What was going on! I decided that it won't happen again, and promised myself I would take my academic work more seriously. It was in Form 2 that I got considerably cured of my playful and dirty habits. The solution came curiously from a girl who was my classmate. Kate Erigbuem, who was in the C arm (I was in B), was a very pretty girl who hailed from Edo State. She was obviously from an upper crust family of society. Fair skinned and very pretty, Kate was annoyingly tidy; she always looked as if she had just stepped away from a dressing mirror. I never suspected she had been observing me and my dirty habits until she picked on me in the third term of our second year. I still can't hazard a guess as to why she did that. The only thing I know for sure is that it was not for any romantic motives; I was too rough and dirty, even if I say so myself today. Besides we were too young for that kind of a thing in those days of innocence. This paragon of beauty sauntered into my classroom one afternoon, casually moved around exchanging idle banter with some of my classmates, all the while working her way surreptitiously towards my locker where I sat, as usual engrossed in my latest Hadley Chase acquisition. Next thing I knew, she had snatched the book from my hands and bolted for the door. Before I could make it to her class, she had securely locked the novel in her locker, and was waiting for me, a very smug look in her eyes. I was so angry! But not being the fighting kind, I resorted to pleading to get back what was mine. In the end, she decided to give it back, but on one condition, being that I must appear neater than her in school the next day. Or else, bye- bye novel. MY COMMAND EXPERIENCE - 3 Hey! What sort of deal was this? How could I ever hope to achieve such a feat? Frustrated, and since I couldn't force the issue, I slinked back to my class, and to the taunting jeers of my friend Moses and other classmates. That night, I did my best to thoroughly wash and iron my uniform (see what the love of a Hadley Chase novel could accomplish)! It appeared I passed muster because the next day, she came to my classroom and handed my novel to me without a word, even as she looked me all over and nodded approvingly. A few days later, I forgot about this episode and went back to my usual dirty ways. Then one day about two weeks after, she struck again, sauntering into the class again and spending long periods chatting with my classmates. This time I didn't even know she was in the room until my novel went flying out of my hand and out the door. Oh no! Not again, I said resignedly. In the following weeks, I lost quite a few novels to my tormentor in chief in this manner. At last, tired and defeated, I forced myself to learn to keep clean. Like I said earlier, her interest in me was never of a romantic nature and it never came near anything like that, but that young girl made one of the most lasting impressions on me, growing up. By the time we got to Form 4 and were in a position to select our subjects of specialization, I had become more serious and had realized my potential as a reasonably brilliant student and an automatic choice for the Pure Arts class. From my very first year, and knowing my limitations as far as the science subjects were concerned, I harboured no illusions of grandeur about studying Pure Sciences, unlike most of my classmates. It was the fashion for most of my classmates to mouth off subjects they would eventually specialize in - Maths, Add Maths, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Technical Drawing, etc. I particularly remember one of my classmates and very close friend Abdullahi Idris, an immensely gifted athlete who from our first year, had made it known to everyone who cared to listen that he aimed to be a medical doctor, probably the best of his generation, he didn't say. Saturdays in Command Jos were usually tagged “Social Nights” and featured a variety of social events like dance competitions, quizzes, debates and film shows. I remember that one of these Saturdays was to feature an educational film documentary titled "The process of reproduction." Social nights usually started at 8pm, after supper. Trust Abdul, my would-be Doctor friend; by 7.30, he was done with his meal and was already seated in the front pew, directly in front of the gigantic screen set up for the screening of the film. It was just about fifteen minutes into the film when the scene shifted to a scene where a pregnant woman lay, legs spread wide as she was about to commence the delivery process. My friend leaned forward, tensed up and eagerly waiting to see the greatest miracle of God. It was just when the woman in labour gave a massive push and the top of the baby's head emerged that we heard a heavy thud: my friend the would-be medical doctor had fainted clean away and lay in a heap on the bare floor! Since that day, it was bye-bye Pure Sciences; he ended up with me in the Pure Arts class and in fact, always sat behind or in front of me in our last two years in school. My performance steadily improved as we got into Form 5 and prepared for the all important ‘O’ level GCE in 1984. Without a doubt, I would say that my last year in Command was my most enjoyable. For one I had reasonably established myself as a somebody in school, both in academics and in other extra-curricular activities. I was a regular in the school football team as well as its champion in both long- and high jump. I was also a prominent member of the debating and literary society. Socially I was also reasonably admired by the girls. That I didn't explore the numerous opportunities that came my way was due more to timidity, the kind that came out of economic backwardness: how could I afford those niceties that usually attended courtship? So I contented myself with my exploits on the field of play, the thrills of literary activity and the practical pranks we played in class with my equally naughty friends. And they were many! I vividly remember that, with some of my Form 5 classmates - Moses Martins, Charles Uwechia, Bunmi Osunma, Justin Ejezie (Jah Love), now late, and many more - we created much fun making jest of other students, both boys and girls. Sometimes we became the butt of the jokes ourselves, but hey; who cared? It was all done in the spirit of bonhomie! I was catching my fun alright, but, unknown to me, crisis lay in wait as my humble economic background still dogged my every move. By 1982, the civilian administration headed by Alhaji Shehu Shagari had so thoroughly mismanaged the Nigerian economy that ordinary household requirements like milk, sugar, detergent and rice had become so scarce and unavailable that they were labled “essential commodities”. With huge backlog of unpaid salaries, misery and hunger pervaded the land; the ripple effect of the economic mess had spread to all the states in the federation. Of course, my father, on retirement from the Army, was re-engaged in the Benue State civil service, and was affected just like thousands of others. It was this situation that eventually resulted in the military coup of December 31, 1983 which ushered in the military government under Muhammadu Buhari. By 1984 when we commenced writing our GCE, I owed outstanding school fees of N305.00 (Yes! Three Hundred and Five Naira!) Because of this, the Principal, Mr. M.B Ligali ordered that I, alongside other fees defaulters like Douglas Obike, Waidi Olalere and a few others I cannot readily remember, should be prevented from writing the exams. To me, the worst aspect of the entire episode was that it was the day I was writing my favourite subject, English Language, that our names were announced, and we were marched out of the Exam Hall like common criminals. It was an anti climax to me because so many of my teachers had openly said they were waiting to see the grades I would make in the exams. ENDS. By Samuel Adzegeh, soon to be published by One- Stop Media (31782). 0706 665 145, 09122268971. themandatenews@gmail.com Watch out for the public presentation of 'LEGACY' Published by One-Stop Media (31782). NEXT: 'MY COMMAND EXPERIENCE' by Asuquo Martins Odiong. One of CSSJ's very best tells www.themandatenews.com.ng about his life after Command. Now a Tables Tennis coach, Asuquo talks about his strengths, motivations and inspirations, then, and now.

Posted: 2weeks ago

Author: Editor in Chief

Current date: 14 August 2026