Chapter 14: The Warning Bell
The week after the debate felt quieter. The students at Bosol High were still talking about the battle of words between SS2A and SS2B, and the teachers, particularly Mrs. Ayoade and Mr. Daniel, were pleased with how the event turned out. But while excitement buzzed around the classrooms, something else had begun to unravel.
The morning bell rang, its sharp clanging bouncing across the campus. Assembly was about to start.
As always, students filed out in straight lines, uniforms crisp—green on green, white socks up to the shin, and polished black shoes clicking on the pavement. The Director watched silently from the stage, eyes scanning for violators.
Mrs. Ayoade stood next to him, jotting down names of latecomers and students with untidy uniforms. But something unusual caught her eye.
---
"You—remove that wristband."
It was a boy from SS3, who had slipped a bright red rubber wristband onto his left arm.
"It's just for style, ma," he protested.
Mrs. Ayoade's brows rose.
"And is style part of the Bosol dress code?"
"No, ma…"
"Remove it."
The boy yanked it off, his head lowered. As he shuffled into place, whispers passed through the crowd.
Rules were tightening.
---
After the assembly, Mr. Rasheed took over the SS2 Mathematics class. He came in with a roll of notes in one hand and his usual unshakable frown.
"Open your books," he said. "We are doing simultaneous equations."
He scribbled quickly on the board. The students copied in silence.
But partway through the class, a low rustling broke out at the back. Precious Fadeyi glanced behind—two boys, Jude and Emmanuel, were passing folded papers under the desk.
"Jude," Mr. Rasheed barked. "What is in your hand?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Bring it."
He hesitated. Then, slowly, he handed the paper over.
Mr. Rasheed opened it, his frown deepening.
A drawing of him—nose exaggerated, glasses comically oversized, with the caption: "Mr. Equation Rasheed: Lord of Yawns".
Laughter tried to bubble up from the class. A few students covered their mouths.
But Mr. Rasheed wasn't angry. He placed the drawing on his desk, looked up, and said coldly:
"Ten laps around the school. Now."
The boys froze.
"Now," he repeated.
They stood and began to walk out slowly.
"No. Run."
The sound of their footsteps faded as the rest of the class tried hard not to smile.
---
Later that afternoon, Ayomide and Victory were in the prefects' corner reviewing reports. Ayomide's brows were furrowed.
"Three cases of noise during class, two students caught sneaking food into the science lab, and now prank drawings? This school is starting to slip."
Victory sighed. "We've been focused on big things—the debate, hosting events. Maybe we've let the small things slide."
Ayomide nodded. "We need to remind the students what Bosol stands for. We're not a market square."
"Morning inspection needs to be stricter," Victory added. "We'll talk to the Director."
---
After school, the prefects met with the Director and Directress in the conference room. They sat upright as the Director leaned forward, eyes piercing.
"I've heard the whispers," he began. "Small cracks. Students thinking they can act anyhow."
He turned to Ayomide.
"What do you suggest?"
"A reemphasis on rules, sir. Morning inspection—extra tight. Uniform checks. Locker searches. And maybe even a short lecture on discipline."
The Directress nodded approvingly.
"And make it creative," she added. "Let the students lead it. If they teach the rules, they'll remember them better."
The Director stroked his chin.
"Good. Organize a 'Discipline Awareness Week.' Use skits, posters, even poems. Let them teach themselves."
The prefects exchanged glances. Something new was brewing.
---
The next morning, the announcement was made:
> "Next week shall be Bosol's first-ever Discipline Awareness Week. Each class must present a creative performance on rules and character. The best class will receive a reward. Violators during this period will receive double punishment."
Excitement and nervousness spread.
Even the juniors became alert.
---
Later in the hostel, Victory caught a girl sneaking out with slippers instead of shoes.
"Back inside," she said calmly. "And wear what the rulebook says."
The girl nodded quickly and turned around.
Victory stood tall, shoulders straight. Something inside her shifted. She had always been quiet—but leadership was pulling her out.
Back in the girls' dorm, Bimbo found Teni eating on her bed.
"Not allowed," she said. "To the common room."
Teni groaned but obeyed.
The prefects were no longer just figureheads. They were enforcers now.
---
By Friday, even Mr. Daniel was impressed.
"Something is changing," he said during a staff meeting. "The prefects are growing into real leaders."
Mrs. Adeniji agreed. "They've made the rules their own."
The Director smiled faintly.
"Let them keep going. The best rules are not those enforced with fear—but those followed with understanding."
---
In the evening, Ayomide sat on her bed, writing in her diary:
> "When rules are broken, the school cracks. But when rules are understood, the school thrives. I hope this week fixes the cracks."
She paused and added:
> "And if I truly want to be Head Girl one day—I have to live the rules more than anyone else."
She shut the book, the weight of her words lingering.
Bosol was watching.
And she was ready.