MEMOIRS

Glucose... Glucose... I need glucose... 

   Chai.... seeing this picture actually sparks a plug... I was team yellow all the way,thanks to my mum who insisted I must be in yellow house while in secondary school (I guess she believed the colour would instill neatness, well it kind of did).
 Federal Government college idoani is my alma mater. Oh yes,despite the harsh conditions we schooled under, I'm always glad I attended that school because I got to be independent in that village (first day in the boarding school is a story for another day)
 Enough of praising my school,the main gist today is interhouse sports and the fun accompanying it.
    Yellow house in my school was also named Olaniyan house(don't ask me why, I don't know the meaning of the name neither do I know the history behind the name). My school house usually tops other houses during inter house sports (trust Nigerians and over usage of ideas,the colours of the other 3 houses are green,blue and red just like the pic up depicts). We had alot of sports boys and girls who participated in various sporting events like shotput, javelin, longjump and other outdoor sports you can think of.
       This particular year, we were deficient in the track events, we needed some one to run the 3000metres long distance race and that was equivalent to running round a 400 Metre track 8 times. All the long distance runners representing my school house had opted out because they were featuring in the 1500 metre track event and crosscountry race. Trust my naughty self, I volunteered (ewooooo!!!!..no body asked me,I summoned courage to indicate my interest by raising up my hands all because of glucose ).  See tiny me,I was yet to even participate in any track event, not even 400metre dash (Haba...how I wan take do am?) I had my reasons though. Trust the house captain, she was overjoyed at least the house had a participant in that event. That was how I started training for the big day.
    See me practicing on the field trying to be physiologically fit.I loved the training period, that was the only time I could wear mufti in school, I got nicely patterned shorts and crop tops(trying to BELONG no easy). Jogging round the field in that ensemble was exhilarating. Dauummmmmm! I could feel the wind on my face, blowing my scanty hair back while I was busy imagining myself with full hair on a power bike. lmao.. Correct imagination thanks to foreign movies. I wonder now what went through other kids minds while they saw me jogging in a particular red pedalpushers,I'm sure I looked like a worn out plier with those my bandy legs.lol.
   I practiced reasonably hard because being a sports person can automatically exempt me from other boarding house activities like labour and cleaning. I would rather jog and fantasize than clean the toilets we students all shared.
   The day finally arrived. I was decked in yellow, my yellow sports wear.Choi I was  glowing like a flower whose petals just unfolded under the early morning sun.I packed my hair with a yellow ribbon of course I was appropriately dressed by my standards.
   The call was made over the sound system..'runners representing their various houses for the 3000metres race should be at the start line',cheers from my housemates was  resonanting in my ears,hmmm that was something to die for. I got to the start line,looked at my sides,mehn see runners. I wasn't scared o, rather I started jumping on the spot, stretching my legs like I see athletes do during the Olympics..
   On your marks,set...peeeeww..the whistle was blown.. Race don start be that. I ran the first lap nothing do me,7 more to go,before I knew it amidst my tiredness I saw some people had dropped and the ethiopian like athletes were gaining on me. Now,whew, I was struggling to avoid them catching up with me. Finally it was the last lap(hallelujah) , my house mates have all moved to the side lines screaming my name. Encouraging me to complete the race. I felt so cool with my self until I turned back I realized I was the last athlete on the track, the judges were waiting for me to cross the finish line so they can announce the winner. Chimoo! how I wan take carry last? na so I start o..glucose...glucose...glucose. .I started screaming for glucose, mind you that was my main reason for running. That feeling of being attended to,as if the world revolves around you was what I craved for. Barely 20metres to the finish line, I got my glucose and I said 'me I'm dropping out o',that's after collecting another bottle of glucose. in my mind I resolved to rather not have a position than be last... My God, see begging.. Me, I didn't oblige, I just asked for another bottle of glucose and stepped out of the track thereby ending the race.. Quite funny but I was barely 14yrs of age. I wasn't even bothered about the disappointed looks on the faces of the house captain and house mistress.To me I had achieved what I wanted even if I had a can of glucose in my provisions locker.

Lesson learned.
If I had completed that race, I would have boldly being able to mention I had once ran a long distance race. Fastforward, now I don't back away from things for the fear of failure because if I fail at it I know I can give it a try and succeed with God by my side..
No matter how many times you are down rising is what actually matters.