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Dedicated to They_luv_Liasbooks for the help, this chapter wouldn't have been possible without herπ
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I had thought the outside of the school was breathtaking,and honestly, it was. The energy, the excitement, the red carpet-all of it made me feel like I was in a scene from a movie.
But the moment I stepped into the hall, my definition of beautiful changed completely.
The transformation was magical.
The entire hall looked like something out of a fairytale. Elegant, enchanting, and completely unforgettable. The theme was perfectly coordinated, matching our deep purple graduation gowns with accents of gold that shimmered under the soft, ambient lighting.
Golden drapes flowed from the corners of the stage like liquid sunlight, and delicate string lights twinkled overhead, adding a warm, almost dreamy glow to the space.
The chairs were lined up in neat rows, each one wrapped in pristine white fabric and tied with satin purple bows at the back. It was the kind of detail that made everything feel intentional and luxurious. The floor gleamed as if it had been freshly polished just for us, reflecting the soft purples and golds like a gentle mirror.
Purple and white balloons floated above us, some clustered in grand arrangements, others forming delicate arcs across the ceiling. Even the centerpieces on each table-lavender roses in crystal vases surrounded by golden confetti-sparkled like something out of a wedding catalog. Every corner, every table, every inch of the space was decorated with care. It was clear that no effort had been spared.
They had divided the hall into three distinct sections:
One side reserved for the graduates, marked with golden name tags on each seat; the second side for students who came to celebrate but weren't graduating; and the third section-spacious and elegant-for guests, parents, and family members. Each section had its own charm, yet together, they formed a unified, stunning layout that brought order and grace to the celebration.
For a moment, I just stood there, in awe. This wasn't just a school hall anymore-it was a celebration of our journey, a space transformed to honor the tears, laughter, and resilience that had brought us to this very moment.
"Omo, KIHS really outdid themselves this time," Dexter said out of the blue, eyes wide as he scanned the decorated hall. "We're honestly the luckiest graduating set. The other sets could never! I mean, they even put name tags on our chairs. Name tags, bro!"
Desmond, standing right beside him, nodded in agreement, just as impressed. "This is premium treatment o," he added, looking around like he still couldn't believe it was real.
Honestly, it was a sight to behold-everything about the setup screamed elegance and attention to detail.
From the sparkling centerpieces to the customized seating, it felt like we were being celebrated, not just sent off. You could tell the school really went the extra mile for us.
Then, almost out of nowhere, Desmond turned slightly toward Kelechi, his voice dropping a notch as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Kelechi you look nice."
There was an awkward pause.
Before Kelechi could even respond, Flora whipped her head around and gasped dramatically. "Just nice?? Are you kidding me?" She clutched her purse. "Oya, repeat yourself before I take it personal!"
Desmond blinked, startled. "Oh! Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, clearly flustered. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time with more effort. "You look... stunning, Kelechi. Really beautiful."
Kelechi raised an eyebrow, trying and failing not to smile. "Okay," she said with a playful shrug. "We'll manage that one sha."
Everyone burst into laughter, the tension melting instantly. The vibe was light, happy, and warm-exactly what a graduation day should feel like.
"Attention!" A familiar voice echoed through the speakers, firm and slightly nasal - Mrs. Chinaza.
All heads turned toward the stage.
There she was, standing tall in her deep purple lace wrapper and matching head tie, clutching the microphone like it was part of her body.
"Please, let's all settle down so this event can commence," she said, scanning the crowd like a hawk.
The murmurs slowly faded. Chairs shuffled. Phones were tucked away, or at least tilted sneakily to the side for TikToks.
"Please, let's all settle down so that this event can commence. Let's take the opening prayer, please." She looked down at a tiny paper in her hand. "I call on the counsellor to take this prayer."
Groans erupted. Audible and unapologetic.
Because no one, absolutely no one, fancied that woman.
From the far end of the guest section, the counsellor stood up like she was in a fashion show gone wrong.
She was wearing a black gown that looked like it doubled as curtains, golden slippers that screamed Yaba bend-down select, and a disfigured wig that sat on her head like an abandoned bird's nest.
Don't even get me started on the makeup-the red lipstick was already cracking and crawling down her chin like it was trying to escape. And her contour looked like it was done during an earthquake.
As she walked onto the stage, she blew kisses to the audience.
"I dodge am," someone muttered under their breath.
We all stifled laughter like our lives depended on it.
She reached the mic and smiled dramatically, revealing the bright pale yellow teeth that clashed violently with her lipstick.
"My dearest children," she began in that fake British accent that only surfaced on special occasions. "I can't believe you're now graduates. You're all so grown. I feel like giving you all a kiss right now!"
She pouted dramatically, lips trembling, cracking lipstick on full display.
I leaned over to Flora. "I'm so surprised no one has fainted yet."
"One more pout and I swear I'm going to puke." Kelechi whispered back.
The counsellor clapped her hands together and closed her eyes halfway like she was about to enter a trance.
"Let us pray," she said.
Everyone bowed their heads-well, mostly everyone.
Then, she started.
"Father Lord, King of Kings, Ancient of Days, Alpha and Omega, the Rose of Sharon, the Lily of the Valley, Jehovah Overdo, Jehovah Ebube Dike, our Rock, our Redeemer, our Shepherd..."
Dexter muttered, "Who gave her Heaven's attendance sheet?"
"...we are gathered here today, not by our power, nor by our might, but by Your grace, oh Lord! You saw these children through assignments, through exams, through that wicked Mathematics teacher, through NEPA taking light during WAEC practicals-Lord, You did it!"
"Some of you," the counsellor continued, eyes still closed, hand on her chest, "used to sneak out of school, used to wear short skirts, some even had boyfriends and girlfriends. But today... You made it. God is not a God of condemnation."
I gasped. "Is this woman praying or exposing people?"
"We also pray," she continued, her voice rising dramatically, "against any spirit of clout-chasing in the university. May you not go viral for the wrong reasons! May your hostel never trend on Twitter for midnight rituals or stripper club."
Kelechi was visibly shaking with laughter. "God, I'm weak."
"I also pray that the boys here will become responsible husbands," she added, opening her eyes now and pointing into the crowd like she was marking attendance. "Stop sagging your trousers. Pull it up! Be a man. Wash your boxers!"
"Preach, aunty," someone mumbled sarcastically.
"And to the ladies," she said, turning now in our direction, "please keep yourselves. University is not for romance. It is for books! You cannot carry GP and man at the same time-ask your mothers!"
That was it.
The whole hall broke into muffled laughter.
Mrs. Chinaza was visibly panicking at the side of the stage, whispering to one usher.
Kelechi whispered, "Omo, they want to drag her off."
But the counsellor wasn't done.
"In Jesus name I pray-"
"AMENNNN!!!" The crowd yelled before she could continue, desperate to end it.
She stepped back, beaming and waving like she just delivered a miracle.
"You're welcome, my babies," she said, blowing another kiss.
"Somebody hold me," Flora muttered. "That woman needs help."
"I couldn't agree more." I said.
β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨β¨
As soon as the prayers were said and the string of long-winded, monotonous speeches came to a merciful end, a quiet murmur of anticipation rippled through the crowd. We all knew what was coming, the real event was about to begin.
The graduation ceremony.
The lights dimmed slightly, and from stage right, the MC stepped into the spotlight.
He was sharply dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, his polished shoes reflecting the stage lights, a confident grin plastered across his face. He clutched the microphone like it was an extension of himself, ready to command the crowd.
"Set of 2K25, are you excited?!" he shouted, his voice booming through the speakers with a jolt of energy that cut through the hall's air.
A roar erupted from the audience.
"Yessss!!!" we all screamed in unison, the excitement practically bouncing off the walls.
He paused for dramatic effect, pacing a little, feeding off the crowd's energy like a seasoned performer. Then he leaned forward again, his voice rising to a near roar.
"I said... ARE. YOU. EXCITED?!!!"
This time, the hall exploded.
"YESSSSSSSS!!!" we bellowed, louder and wilder than before. The walls trembled with our voices, the ceiling almost lifting from the impact. You could feel the electricity in the air.
"Omo, e no easy at all! Secondary school finally done and dusted!" the MC shouted into the mic, his voice carrying pride and excitement. He threw his hand up like the hype man he was. "And una no go happy? How? Abeg, all the graduates, make una come to the stage jare! DJ, give them jam, make dem shake body small!"
He pointed dramatically to the DJ, who gave a knowing nod, already scrolling through his playlist with precision, like he'd been waiting for this moment all day.
We didn't need to be told twice.
One by one, we started walking to the stage. Some jogged up with arms raised like champions, others danced their way forward, already in party mode. Gowns swished. Shoes clacked. Some girls kicked off their heels.
We formed a crowd on stage, buzzing with anticipation, eyes flicking toward the DJ booth waiting for the beat to drop.
Then it happened.
The first notes of "March Am" by Rema pulsed through the speakers, smooth and powerful, rolling across the hall like a wave.
And just like that, the entire vibe shifted.
The crowd lost it.
Boys jumped. Girls screamed. Some people threw their hands up and let their heads fall back, dancing like no one was watching.
A few guys did backflips. Someone dropped to the floor and started spinning on his back - nobody knew if it was rehearsed or freestyle, but we still cheered him on.
The MC was hyping us from the corner. "Ayyyy! That's the spirit! Class of 2K25, make una scatter the stage! Na una day!"
Laughter and music filled every inch of the hall. The DJ kept the energy up, tweaking the bass, sliding in shoutouts between beats. People pulled out their phones, recording, snapping, capturing every wild moment. Feet were moving, gowns were shaking, and for once, nobody cared about decorum.
We were free.
That stage became a battlefield of joy. A dancefloor of release. All the stress, sleepless nights, surprise tests, punishment, and morning assemblies, it all melted away in that one moment.
For the first time, it really hit - we were done. We had made it.
When the dancing, shouting, and endless energy finally settled into something resembling order, the MC stepped back to center stage, clearing his throat with mock seriousness.
"Alright, alright. Make una calm down small. It's time for the awards."
The crowd responded with playful groans and exaggerated sighs.
The lights dimmed just a little, and the projector beamed a slideshow on the backdrop, with each award title appearing in bold, dramatic letters.
"Best in Science."
I barely had time to process the name before I heard Zainab hiss loudly beside me.
A round of respectful applause filled the room as the winner's name was announced. The recipient - Victor, our resident genius - practically floated to the stage.
Zainab hissed beside me, clapping stiffly like someone pressing remote.
I stifled a laugh, biting my lip. "Zainab behave," I whispered.
"I'm not doing anything na."
"Best in Sports."
Cheers exploded again. Jude, tall and muscular, jogged to the stage like he was about to start a race. He did a little fist pump and grinned like the school had just handed him an Olympic medal.
"Best in Social Skills goes to Flora."
A few playful whistles broke out from the crowd as Flora strolled confidently toward the stage, throwing a wink at the crowd and blowing kisses. I bet that no one cheered and clapped as I did.
Then came a brief pause. The MC adjusted the mic and smiled.
"And the Most Improved... goes to Florence Williams and Empress Devin!"
I sat up a little straighter.
From the back row, Florence and Empress stood up - hesitant at first, like they couldn't believe it was real.
But the moment the crowd began clapping, they straightened their backs and walked toward the stage, shoulders squared, heads high. The spotlight hit them, and they both flashed a bright, proud smile to the camera.
I let out a small smile too. Not out of politeness, but because they genuinely deserved it.
Compared to the girls I knew some months ago - problematic, unsure, constantly thinking of ways to bring me down. These two had grown. In kindness. In attitude. Even in the way they carried themselves. It was the kind of growth you could feel, not just see.
Applause rippled louder across the room as they accepted their plaques and returned to their seats. A few classmates even stood to clap, and that made me smile even wider.
Recognition like that meant something.
"Best in Art Class goes to... Sonia Ubong!" the MC called out, his voice booming across the hall.
For a moment, I froze.
Wait-me?
I barely had time to process the familiar name before Flora and the others screamed beside me like they just won the lottery. Their voices rang louder than the applause.
Heart racing, I stood up-awkward but smiling-and walked up to the stage. The award felt cool in my hands. I smiled for the camera, unsure if I looked proud or completely stunned.
But in that moment... I couldn't believe it.
I was actually leaving this place with something. Something real.
Something memorable.
Suddenly, I saw my mum rushing up to the stage, her dress swaying with every step.
"Camera man, abeg snap us!" she said with pure joy, grabbing my arm.
He laughed and nodded, snapping away as we posed together.
I could feel her smile-not just see it, feel it.
She was genuinely proud of me.
My number one fan.
My loudest cheerleader.
My mum.
******
A/N
Omo...
I don't know how to feel, my babies are graduating.
Oh well, let me know your thoughts on this chapter.
Also, I mentioned a few times that there's an official WhatsApp GC for this book. Say hi if you want to join.
That's all I have to say...
Buh bye π½
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