If you haven’t read the first installment of this, you should probably check this first. If you have, then enjoy.
My first year of boarding school still feels a never ending stream of konji.
I was horny all the time, and like that was not literally and figuratively hard enough, I was already failing. The problem wasn’t the school work, that was easy, the problem was that I spent every minute in class hiding boners. The smell of canoe soap (which EVERYONE used to wash their clothes back then) would send me into delirious flashbacks about sneaking quickies with Rachel. The smell dry wood for some reason— gave me instant erections. It was driving me crazy.
I needed a solution and accidentally I stumbled on the perfect one.
I discovered masturbation.
I might have conquered the vajayjay but the concept of pleasuring yourself by yourself was totally foreign to me.
The day I stumbled on it, it was Social Night and everyone was in the assembly hall. Social Night is horrible for everyone but SS3 students so I hid under the bed and waited till everyone else got chased out. The logic was standard Nigerian boarding school survival; empty dorms equals no beggy-beggy vultures or seniors to bully you and steal your provisions.
Two bowls of cornflakes later, I was about to crash when I realised I wasn’t alone. There was someone in the bunk opposite mine, and they had a flash light on. No bueno! Everybody knows if you’re skipping evening functions, you keep your flashlights off. Plus one sick JSS1 boy on Social Night made sense, two sick JSS1 boys no senior would believe.
I tiptoed over to the other bunk, ready to scare the shit out of whoever was there. As I closed in, I heard a second breathy voice come from the under the blanket. I didn’t even bother scaring them anymore, I just yanked the damn thing off their heads. And there they were, Seun from JSS1A and Kamal from JSS1C, hands slick with white lotion, frantically tugging on each other’s dicks.
I knew what I was looking at, and I know I should have screamed or made noise, but instead I just watched them and smirked. Seun and Kamal, they looked like they were about to shit themselves. I kept smirking at them as they disentangled and scrambled for their hostel shorts. They could tell that I knew just how bad I could make things for them if they made any noise. Kamal was the first to talk, he was the smaller of the two and normally super loud.
“Please. Just Please.”
I didn’t respond, just kept smirking at them. The torch on the bed must have lit up my smile and made me look like a devil. A tiny eleven year old devil. Kamal dropped to his knees, dragged Seun with him. That one wouldn’t even make eye contact.
“I beg you with God.”
Seun was obviously more practical because he reached under the bed, pulled out a magazine and put it in my hand. The cover was the picture of a naked woman with her mouth wide-open, eyes rolled into the back of her head, and two fingers buried in her vagina. I felt warmth flood my shorts, but they were still looking at me, so I nodded and went back to my bed. I could hear them scrambling behind me, running to Social Night. Better even, this magazine was something I wanted to enjoy alone.
I found an open window (only a ode would use a flash light) found a bottle of lotion and got very acquainted with the women of 2004’s Maxim September issue.
Masturbation was what got me through that first year of boarding house, and it came in extra handy when my parents announced out of the blue that we’re moving to a new place. I no longer had access to my extensive network of willing house girls but it didn’t matter because I was too busy taking care of myself by myself.
By the time the new term began, I had become an even bigger recluse. Every day felt less and less like I belonged in the world around me so I sat at the back of the room, took many excuses to leave class and never talked to anyone. An English teacher who taught me in a previous year noticed this new version of me and decided I needed an older mentor.
Her name was Linda and all of a sudden I had a school mother. Linda was the Sports Prefect and award-winning mathlete and all around good girl, but Linda was also a teen renegade who had gotten suspended numerous times for breaking school rules.
And one day, after night prep and another round of her trying to get me read (non starter) or talk to her, she finally asked me, straight up.
“Why are you always so quiet and anxious around me?”
I didn’t think, I swear. I barely even breathed. I took her by the wrist with my sweaty palm, and dropped her soft palm on the bulge in my unzipped fly.
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