Rain


It could be a disaster begging the question.
‘I have explained to you Professor I. K. that I should grant you permission to my home.’
‘Of whose funding?’
‘A text message will suffice, professor.’
The ageing man ignored the boy and wrecked the newspaper towards him.
‘Jeremiah Kenneth calls out the Vice Chancellor, page 5, The Tide.’ The boy announced, arms, outspread.
‘I will not warn you again.’ The man barked and reversed.
‘Who let the worm into my home? Bullion! Bullion!’
Bullion was having some quiet time in the convenience, he didn’t hear his young master. However, by evening, while he jogged gallantly around the school, young master’s anger quelled.
The state university, 58 years old stood insurmountably at the heart of the state’s capital, a former college of science, born of excellence and glory. It had three main gates, black, white and blue colours making its structures aesthetical. Old columnar trees like pines and oaks guarded its main paths. Jeremiah liked the view of students walking through the trees, this was like the America they needed him to go. In his heart, all universities were same, with the colonial standard, they almost looked alike. He bluffed, ‘what a colonial lag.’ The school had the best structures and had ranked 12th in the Universities Commission list. Jeremiah bluffed again. There were still outstanding buildings, apparently faculties yet to be completed. The new Students Union Government had passed a proposal of building covered walk ways between buildings to connect the faculties and to shield the students from rain or scorching sun while navigating their lectures. That looked excellently impossible, most of the faculties were not well connected and worst, they were merged. Management science is same faculty as social science. Jeremiah had the loopholes of the prestigious university off hand yet his blood bubbled in it. A major kegite leader, a falcon, and an ardent runner, he cursed that his place as son caused him many more things he needed to do. His family had threatened to disown him if he continued to be a kegite. He told them, not yet. He couldn’t be cut off fund anyway, the drilling companies in his community had him foremost on their pay list. He had stood up many times, explaining to his people why the companies initiated any policy, he was a diplomatic taut child and had turned 19 a month ago. Jeremiah’s political idol was Ford, Gerald Ford, the 38th President of the United States of America. Ford was the only American Citizen who served as a Vice President and President without being elected. The Ford who ranked highest for moral authority and equity especially after granting the former president, Nixon Richard, pardon, people can mention Ford’s fall yet Jeremiah is pinned on the breeze of charming good luck that blows him into high positions. No president has ever been termed ‘perfect’ so Jeremiah took the inference. People cannot be pleased, do you! His family cannot be pleased, Jeremiah was doing himself.
The next morning unfolded the fangs of cruelty, a charred body has been found at one of the school gates, Jeremiah was always alerted forehand by his allies. Raymond’s breathe went up and down on phone, ‘Young master, young master, this must stop. This has to stop, it’s a body, oh God!’ Jeremiah jumped out of his apartment in the government residential area and drove south. He tapped his phone, it was 6:36 am. He drove through Abacha road and took the less-used gate in. he could have alighted and walked from the gate, to observe but the news was a flash that needed attention. When he got there, students were already weeping around. Jeremiah despised sentiments and self pity so he walked seriously like a detective at work. He stared intently at the black buns and refused to be betrayed by his stomach, the vomit fought hard to come but Jeremiah looked away sharply and walked to a side. Raymond who has been aside watching what he would do, walked to him. Jeremiah pulled out his phone for an ambulance.
‘People too like pity, why are they crying now? Instead of getting help and vacate this wicked act, they cry.’
Raymond merely watched him, he was a 200 level student and was elated to find Jeremiah a worthy mentor when the latter walked into his class in his first year to give them the fresher’s milk, a sound educational advice. The ambulance did not arrive for over an hour, Jeremiah had called the police in between his waiting, they arrived before the medics. There were speculations that the victim could be a cultist.
‘You do not have much to say, do you? Officer?’ Jeremiah yelled at the police man. The man was aghast at the strength of the boy’s voice.
‘What did you just say?’
‘I presume tactfully that you should go and do your job, investigation, investigate than making assumptions or worst conclusions, shallow police officers.’ Young master finished neatly and matched away.
‘He is the VC’s son.’ Raymond whispered to the police man, shaking. He ran after his master, it was always he and him riding on campus. Raymond was like a trusted side-kick, very loyal and patient to his unsteady master.
Jeremiah drove carelessly out of school, tooting tirelessly at the ..... https://egbechopublishers..com/2020/08/the-lions-and-hyenas-part-1.html


From your very own celebrities story plug-