How My Lecturer Reacted To A Love Letter I Sent

So last Monday, around 8-9pm, our class rep dropped on our class WhatsApp chat group an assignment sent to her for us by a lecturer, also at that odd time of the day.Mind you, this lecturer had lectured that same day, exhausted her two-hour lecture duration, and even took some extra minutes to tell us about her unsolicited success story, from being an ordinary roadside earpiece seller to now being able to board AirPace flights to travel across the world. How she went from squatting in one of her town's men's quarters to now housing about a quarter of the young boys from her village.All those moments she used to give those self-exalting, pride-reeked talks, laced with spices of motivational speeches in order to conceal her actual pride, could have been enough to imagine, formulate, and give out any form of assignment, but no, it was by 8:53 p.m. that it occurred to her.8:53? When the lecturer send the assignment? The motivational talks in class? Nah! That's preliminary. That's what English people would call "furthermore," or maybe "looking back," because the actual thing that enraged me was the time the lecturer asked us to submit the assignment unfailingly. 6 AM the next morning. Who does that? [In the late Jnr. Pope's voice]Assignment given by 8:53, asked to be submitted by 6:AM unfailingly? This literally means anyone with plans of beating the deadline will have to be up at the latest by 4:30, take his or her bath, eat, and get prepared all in less than 30 minutes.Then be sure to put on easy-to-navigate footwear, preferably bathroom slippers, to enable a smooth and super-fast trekking experience, because, of course, except in the case where one is lucky to find a cab driver chased out of his unhappy home by a nagging wife, there is no chance of getting any bike, cab, or taxi by 5 a.m. So how exactly do we submit assignments by 6 a.m.?With boiling rage, I immediately put across to my class rep and almost wanted to tear her apart on the phone, as if she were the lecturer responsible for my vent. But she's the class rep, for goodness' sake, and a class rep shouldn't just be Dora Ka Dorathy and allow a lecturer to run the class like Sani Abacha's administration.She should have talked to, countered, and influenced that lecturer into knowing that 6 AM is too early for even the Bornu bororo breed of cattle to go on grazing. A class rep shouldn't just take toxic instruction from a lecturer and pass it on to the people she's representing. That's why I would have preferred a male, active, and outspoken class rep instead.I ranted, ranted, and ranted over the phone while my class rep, Calmly, listened until I was done, then she softly asked, "Ebuka, are you done?Oh! That softens my heart!N.B.: My course rep's temperament is one in a million! Her type of person can successfully train a lion for 35 years with the notice of members of the neighborhood.I'm so convinced that even if that girl unfortunately falls into the hands of an alcoholic, physically violent, chain-smoking, lazy, irresponsible man by union of marriage, social media won't hear a bit of her struggles.Rather than seeking divorce like some of these 'biscuit bone Gen-Zs, under the same condition would, her kind of person would hold down her marriage with midnight prayers, believing that one day the Lord would finally get her once abusive husband, Christain Basil, pricked in the heart, and make him decide to join her in worshipping at Christ Embassy.Now that's the kind of temperament the course rep we were blessed with has.After my long rant, my course rep Calmly asked, "Ebuka, did you read the entire instruction I sent in the chat group? Did you read to the end?And then it dawned on me that I really hadn't read everything. It was immediately after I read that line, "To be submitted by 6 a.m.," that I went haywire; the screws in my brain loosened, so I didn't bother reading further.Heyyy! Embarrassment cloaked my voice and my entire being!With all sense of "Be like say I done Bleep up,"I hung up the call and rushed to WhatsApp, to our class chat group, and after really going through the whole thing, the lecturer, through our class rep, sent, Oh!. I felt stupid!Yes, the assignment was supposed to be submitted by or before 6 a.m., but not physically; it was to be sent to the lecturer's email address. That was the part I didn't read. A typical instance of one being faster than his shadows, which LinkedIn experts would describe as "not paying keen attention to details,".My course rep would have definitely been laughing her ass out after that call!More embarrassing was that some of the "derogatory words" I used while ranting revealed the concealed hatred I had towards her being a course rep in a male-dominated department.Heyyy! This was so humongously embarrassing that I almost felt like slicing myself up.But if only I knew it was just a prelude and an appetizer.If only I knew that this was just John the Baptistic embarrassment preparing the way for a bigger one.If only I knew that this assignment that started with "Come One" [the embarrassing situation with my course rep] would graduate to "Come All" [the public shame that followed], I would not do it.What's the worst that could have happened? I get dashed for not doing the assignment, failing the incourse, or, worst of all, failing the course and graciously rewriting it next year. That would have been better!But people of God, despite the warning signals I got deep down in my soul to just forget the assignment—in fact, turn off my phone and sleep off the one I've gone through—I still forced myself. I wrote the assignment and submitted it to the lecturer's email that night.Brethren, Yesterday, the lecturer was in our class again, did her two hours, and was about to leave when this oversabi-sabi girl of global repute and standard, who, if God has permitted, should be sharing the same kindred with Phyna BBN, asked about the assignment. How well did we perform on the assignment? How impressive we were!The lecturer should have just ignored that question coming from that girl suffering from pokenogossiphil (an internal infection caused by excessive pokenose and uncontrolled gossip), but as expected since it was coming from a woman, the lecturer answered."Yes, you guys did well. The majority of you did well. But there was one abnormal person in this class who sent me a love letter. I don't know whether it was a deliberate act or if he or she mistakenly sent the love letter for the assignment. But whichever it is, I cover my thirteen-year-old marriage with the blood of Jesus.".Who ma? Who sent a love letter? Who? Please, who, ma? Please read out the letter, ma?The whole class, including me at this point, was curious to know the content and the messenger of the love letter.If only I knew, brothers...Continue reading.......https://www.arealproblemkid.com/2024/05/embarrassing-moments-ep-3-i-mistakenly.html