The next day, immediately after afternoon prep, I was at the registration stand to sign up for the next set of 800 meters juniorboys’ race tryouts. I was to represent Peace House. Each house had two (2) representatives. That is eight (8) athletes in all. Ilooked at members of my house from my lane on the race lines- both boys and girls that had begun to assemble, including members of other houses. A smile crossed my face, I knew in just a short while; they’d all know and be screaming my name in excitement and admiration; falling over each other as to who would buy me biscuit and ice cream for my fantastic performance! The official called us to order: ‘On your marks!’ Something inside was trying to get my attention to pull out of therace that I was about to make a big mistake but it was too late. ‘Get set…Go!’We all sprang into it and got running.
Some errors we make in life take a while to
get obvious. The one I made that day wasn’t one of those. It was the kind
wherein the foolishness of the action is manifested almost immediately.
We were to run round the pitch for about four (4) laps, I had just gone a little beyond half of the FIRST lap when I got a revelation- it dawned on me that the Creator, when he was making me, never intended for me to run competitively. Ever! I was out ofbreath, my head was spinning and it felt like I was seconds away from collapsing. Just for the cheering of the girls, I wanted to push on a little more but my head, torso and legs were beginning to have a mind of their own. I thought of stopping abruptly and just walking off the pitch. But that would make my life a living hell in school- members of my house would hate me for it. Members of other houses would jeer at me till the sun went down and my classmates would make mocking me the consistent theme for all discussions for at least one week after which they would occasionally bring it up till we graduated I felt trapped; I had cooperated with the devil to rubbish the already mediocre existence I had!
We were to run round the pitch for about four (4) laps, I had just gone a little beyond half of the FIRST lap when I got a revelation- it dawned on me that the Creator, when he was making me, never intended for me to run competitively. Ever! I was out ofbreath, my head was spinning and it felt like I was seconds away from collapsing. Just for the cheering of the girls, I wanted to push on a little more but my head, torso and legs were beginning to have a mind of their own. I thought of stopping abruptly and just walking off the pitch. But that would make my life a living hell in school- members of my house would hate me for it. Members of other houses would jeer at me till the sun went down and my classmates would make mocking me the consistent theme for all discussions for at least one week after which they would occasionally bring it up till we graduated I felt trapped; I had cooperated with the devil to rubbish the already mediocre existence I had!
God, so gracious; God, most merciful- a
thought came to me on how to quit the race without attracting all the hate and
scorn that was certain to come. I had to act quickly; my stamina was fast dissipating.
I saw one of the iron rods used to mark the pitch that hadn’t been removed; it
was about an adult elbow’s length from the ground into which it was pinned. My
plan was risky but it was the only way. As I approached it, I faked an
accident- Hollywood style! I ‘kicked’ the iron rod with ‘great force.’ My
calculated somersault and accompanying tumbling were no less dramatic! I must
have rolled over five (5) times like a canon ball. If there’s any justice in
the world, I should have won an Oscar for Best Male Actor in Reality series
category! I mean, I’m certain everyone watching was convinced that a real contender
in the race had just been unfortunately taken out by ‘unforeseen
circumstances.’ How touching!
I made sure I rolled way off the race tracks
and into the middle of the field. I lay there rolling in ‘excruciating pains’,
my both palms clutching my 'affected' leg. Soon members of my house's
First aid team ran into the pitch to help me.
I didn’t even make any attempt to stand and ‘limp’- I didn’t want any aspiring motivational
speaker amongst the First Aid team to try to talk me back into the death race.
I just lay there and let the young men carry a fallen hero to safety! Only God
and I knew that my legs felt no hurt whatsoever but I had learned a valuable
lesson - while there’s nothing wrong with trying other areas of life- every
area may not be the one for you, it’s great when you stick to your area of
gracing or ability, follow instructions and refuse to be led by wrong motives.
Yes, no one screamed my name in admiration. No
one bought me anything, I didn’t even get a school mother that day, or the day
after until…no wait! Actually, I never got any at all! But the
First aid team gave me two (2) copious spoons
of glucose to lick. For a JSS 2 boy, two spoons of glucose were good enough. I walked
away fulfilled!
Written by David Nwajiuba
Written by David Nwajiuba
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Osayuwamen Favour Nosakhare
Osayuwamen Favour Nosakhare
Lol! You did efficiently set yourself up for a fall but good thing you learned from it and hopefully others will upon reading this narration *still laughing though*.
ReplyDeleteI read both the first and second part.. tho it was funny but its good he learnt his leason..all we need as humans is to be ourselves.
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