Chapter 3: Voting Palava and Betrayal

Questionnaire give 60 minutes to answer. Once you finish, e go lock.

Class quiet at first, then people start dey talk.

Everybody dey do as if dem dey write essay for exam. Pen dey roll for table, some dey sweat, some dey whisper.

E be like say class prefect still dey run things.

The guy clear throat again, stand for middle: "Abeg, make una listen, na sense I dey talk."

"I check—everybody first question na the same. If you no answer, dem go punish you, but we no sabi wetin go happen if you answer. My advice, make everybody vote for themselves. Even if questionnaire wan kill, e no fit kill all of us at once. My way no go harm anybody and everybody go get points."

Bullet comments just dey fly:

Bullet comment flash again:

[I feel say this class prefect na real saint. E sharp, but make we see how long e go last. This na survival game—the more people wey survive, the more wicked e go be.]

[Sigh, I remember in the beginning, everybody dey try form good. Nobody dey show real colour yet.]

[Just wait. This na survival game. Dem never start fight because their interest never clash.]

For Naija, dem dey talk say, "Problem nor dey finish, na who quick tire dey lose." As the comments dey fly, tension dey rise.

No be everybody agree with prefect.

Some people dey roll eye, others dey tap table. The clique of boys for window just dey eye am like say, "You go see."

Questionnaire just talk make you pick who you hate pass. E no talk say if dem vote you, you go disappear. Compared to voting yourself, some people reason say e better to push risk go another person.

For a while, everywhere quiet. People dey struggle whether to pick who dem really hate.

Na so I notice Emeka dey scratch head like say mosquito bite am. He dey always fight with Anita, and dem two dey side-eye each other. Drama nor dey ever finish for this class.

Now, the rich boy reason say wahala dey. If anybody dey hate, na him go get highest vote. E stand up, face dark:

The way e chest rise, I dey fear say e go call im father come arrest all of us.

"I dey warn una, anybody wey vote me, I go drag you down before I kpai. Anybody wey no vote me, I go dash you one thousand—no, five thousand!"

For Naija, money dey talk. Some people wey dey find food for break just begin whisper, others dey form hard guy but dey calculate for mind.

Some people wey money dey worry, gather near am.

"Class prefect talk true. The safest na to vote yourself. That way, everybody tie, questionnaire no fit touch us all."

Class divide into three: class prefect and the good students; rich boy and him clique dey buy people; last group still dey reason.

Some dey form alliance for back. I hear one girl tell her friend, "If I kpai, abeg, help me carry my sandals go house—my mama go ask." For Naija, your bestie nor go forget you, even for last moment.

Time dey go—the class bell no ring. Nobody fit leave class. As long as you never choose, all of us for SS3B dey trapped.

Sweat dey drip for my eyebrow, and the sound of biro tapping for table dey loud pass generator. That time, my quiet deskmate Jide just look up, talk with him cold voice:

"For now, class prefect method good, but una miss one thing: person don already answer before all of us, and e don collect title from questionnaire."

E talk am as if e nor care who vex. The whole class turn look Seyi, necks stretch like say we dey watch Super Story for free.

I look Jide, shock. Everybody face Seyi, wey collect title.

True—Seyi be first to vote. Who e pick? If e pick another person, and that person vote himself, na two votes. Now, to avoid wahala, everybody go wan make am talk who e vote. Once e talk, e and that person go turn enemy, and that person go vote am back.

The thing get as e be—Naija nor dey forget beef, especially when wahala dey ground.

I sharply grab the sense—Jide move wicked.

Class begin press Seyi to talk who e pick.

Everybody just dey eye am, tension thick like eba wey soak water. Some dey tap desk, some dey shout, "Talk true!"

I just hide for back, dey form cool—because compared to Seyi, my own move wicked pass. I vote for everybody, so everybody get at least two votes.

For my mind, I dey pray, "God abeg, no let my name enter wahala today."

Bullet comment flash again:

[Haha, see as big boss dey move. I no know why, but e be like say e no like male lead—set am up to chop hate from day one.]

[Tsk tsk, Seyi dey play safe, of course e pick the rich boy wey everybody hate.]

[That beef don set. Rich boy and him boys go face am soon.]

[Now na Seyi move: e go talk true or e go lie?]

Yes, questionnaire no talk say you no fit lie. Result go show after everybody choose.

Soon, Seyi answer with straight face:

The boy be actor—voice cool, no shake. "I pick myself. I no hate anybody for this class. So all of us fit vote ourselves. No wahala."

Everybody relax—except me, because I sabi say Seyi dey lie.

For my heart, I dey shake head. Seyi nor dey ever tell true when e get chance.

Bullet comment flash again:

[Seyi sharp—e just dey lie. E pick rich boy but no wan talk.]

[I talk am say rich boy na scapegoat. Even with money, e no fit dodge.]

[You think say rich boy dull like that? Just wait, twist dey.]

After that, Jide no talk again. Me too, I just dey hide. Everybody dey busy dey vote.

For my seat, I just dey tap foot—one eye for screen, one eye for Jide. For Naija, you dey always get backup plan.

"Ding dong, voting time finish. Result go show soon, points dey calculate."

Everybody just freeze, like NEPA don off light.

Bullet comment flash again:

[One more thing: student wey get highest votes go enter overtime.]

System voice come again.

"Next, everybody go see their voting result. Five students tie, dem go enter overtime question."

Omo, wahala dey. Some people begin murmur prayer, others dey curse under breath.

Soon, I hear people dey shout.

"Wetin be this? I get two votes—one na my own, but who add the other one?"

One boy just vex, face dark.

"Chai, me too! Two votes!"

"Same here! Who do this? Wait make I catch you!"

More people dey find two votes, dem gather together.

People dey look around with suspicion. In this part of the world, na so witch-hunt dey start.

I open my own screen—only one vote. Nobody vote me.

Thank God, I dodge the bullet comments talk?

Because you no fit see another person screen unless dem show you, more people dey find two votes, dem begin gather.

Class prefect force himself calm, talk again.

"Me too, I get two votes. Apart from my own, another person vote me. Even if some people no follow my plan and vote others, e no fit reach this number. Only one reason: person for class don use loophole vote everybody."

Class prefect sharp—e quickly notice.

But some people face just change.

The heat nor dey only for body now—na for spirit. Eye dey red, mouth dey twist. For Naija, when trouble start, e nor dey wear shoe.

"But me... I get three votes."

For Naija, if people start dey count who vote who, wahala nor dey far. My heart dey beat, I dey count my own luck.

Everybody just turn. Who go explain this one? E be like say wahala just dey begin. And for my mind, I dey pray make tomorrow no worse pass today.