Dormitory Drama 3 -The Devil in Green House
The first bell for morning assembly had barely died down when i decided, against better judgment, to skip it. The plan wasn’t mine, of course; it was Senior Tayo’s idea. He was one of those confident seniors who made rebellion look like style. “Sola, let’s gist joor,” what are you going to the assembly for?” We both lay sprawled on our bunks, each on separate double-deckers, whispering and laughing in that lazy, defiant way only boarding house boys know. The air smelled of urine, disinfectant and damp uniforms. The dormitory was unusually quiet, except for the hum of ceiling fans and our muffled chats about teachers, crushes and the mystery stew from last night’s dinner.
Then bam! the door burst open.
It was Mr Ojo, the intro tech teacher and one of the housemasters. In his hand, a long brown cane glistened like something from a soldier’s arsenal. “Everybody out! Now!” he thundered. Panic exploded. Students who had been pretending to fix their ties suddenly remembered salvation was outside. The sound of slippers flapping, lockers banging and bodies colliding filled the air.
In that chaos, I turned to whisper something to Tayo but his bed was empty. Vanished. I froze.
A second later, a faint creak came from under his bed. I bent down and there he was, Senior Tayo dangling under the iron spring like a bat, gripping the coils with the desperation of a man whose future depended on it.
Without thinking, i copied him. I slid under my bunk and clung to the springs, my face pressed against cold metal. The cane whistled past as Mr Ojo chased a boy out the door. My arms shook, every muscle screaming. My breath came in short gasps. Then, silence. Slowly, the sound of feet faded toward the assembly ground.
We waited. One minute. Two. Then, we crawled out. Tayo adjusted his shirt, dusted his trousers and whap! he slapped me. “Idiot! Why didn’t you go to assembly?”
I stood there, mouth open, speechless. My face burned with a mix of anger and disbelief. The same Tayo who had dragged me into rebellion had just blamed me for it. I clenched my fists. Revenge, I decided, would come quietly.
It came the following Saturday, inspection day. The dormitories had to shine like hospitals. Every bed tucked tight, every locker spotless. Seniors barked orders; juniors scurried like ants. As usual, I had to arrange Senior Tayo’s bed since it was next to mine.
That morning, I took a detour to the back of the hostel, the dreaded school farm, where bushes grew thick and wild. I searched carefully and found what i needed: the dry pods of werepe, devil beans. Every boarding student knew its power. Invisible to the eye, but once they touch your skin, especially when mixed with sweat, you would scratch till you begged for palm oil relief.
I gathered the pods, split them open and used a piece of paper to scatter the fine brownish hairs across Tayo’s bedsheet. Not too much, just enough to make mischief. I laid the bed perfectly. Smooth, neat and innocent.
Inspection came and went. The teachers praised our dorm; Green House came second overall. Tayo strutted about proudly, believing his neatly laid bed had contributed. I smiled to myself and went off to the football field.
It was halfway through the second half when I saw a small crowd forming near the staff quarters. In the middle, Senior Tayo was screaming, jumping and scratching like a man possessed. His friends were dragging him toward the clinic; their faces twisted in confusion. I didn’t need a prophet to explain what was happening.
When I returned to the hostel that evening, Tayo was asleep on a new bedsheet, the old one soaked in palm oil, the official antidote for devil beans. His face looked peaceful. Mine held a small, silent victory. The room was quiet except for his soft snoring. I sat on my bunk, lacing my shoes and smiled faintly.
No suspicions. No consequences.
I was not caught.
Do you have a boarding house story of your own?
The dormitory raised all of us in its own peculiar way. If you ever survived inspection day, dodged a cane, or plotted a quiet comeback, your story deserves daylight. Share it in the comments or send it in. This series is far from over.
