THE REST OF MY FOREVER

30: Drusilla Mendez

By the time we entered the hall for assembly on Monday morning, word had already gone round about Ethan Eke leaving the school. His parents had pulled him out of the exam program, and he was not the only one. A clear quarter of our stream was in absentia. This worried me for two reasons. First of all, Ethan was meant to be Victim 8- a spot which I would have to fill with someone equally as vulnerable and virtually invisible. Finding the perfect replacement would be harder this time around, since a fair share of nobodies had fled.

The second problem, which struck me right between the ribs was the absence of Drusilla Mendez, whose curly head of hair I failed to spot in the large room. The idea that she might have changed her mind about carrying on with exams was one I could hardly ponder.

The principal stepped up behind the podium wearily, the student body falling into obedient silence.

"We are devastated," he said, stopping to skim his eyes over us.

"Following the untimely deaths of four of our form four students, the school has dedicated a memorial display to them. Students will be able to drop off flowers, cards and anything else there, which will later be distributed to their families. The school is doing everything it can in collaboration with the police, to get to the bottom of what's going on and ensure your safety. In the meantime, we urge you all to stay focused on your personal studies and remain firm in our faith and prayer."

"Four people are dead. Am I next?" someone yelled from somewhere along the A-Level row.

The principal's gaze shot to the back of the room, narrow and seething.

"Who's next?" a girl's voice contributed.

"Silence, please," the principal ordered.

"Well, who is?" the head boy yelled, several heads swivelling in surprise. It was common knowledge that Masamba Mbano was a bit of a rebel, but not like this; not enough to challenge the principal in front of the entire school.

"Mr Mbano, do you have something you would like to share with the rest of the school?"

The question was possibly rhetorical, but the dauntless senior responded anyway.

"We are children and we are afraid, sir, yet you spare us no more comfort than a makeshift shrine and information that we already have. You really don't tell us anything, and despite what you might think, it is our right to know what's going on. You claim to be taking action, but the police only come here when there's a child to carry away in a body bag. These students died on this premises and I didn't see a single representative at their funerals. I'm sorry, sir, but we can't help but wonder who's next? Which one of us has to die for you to realise this is a real issue?"

I was taken aback by his words, unsure of what to do with this ever-growing realisation of what I had caused. The entire staff glanced between Masamba and the principal, while the latter deliberated on what to say. Before he could speak, however, the rest of us burst into a buzz of discussion. Even I, who was feeling weight upon both shoulders, turned to Caleb Marcaboth who stood close to me.

"Brave," he said, and I nodded in acquiescence.

Several teachers attempted in vain to hush the uproar. Caleb took my lack of verbal contribution as a sign of disinterest and turned his other side for more conversation. Everybody seemed immersed in their own opinions, spewing out their thoughts restlessly, while I attempted to suppress mine. I focused my attention on the steaming man behind the podium, who looked like he was about to burst. He did.

"Nyararai!" the principal exploded, huffing acrimoniously once we had fallen deathly quiet.

"There is no need to be afraid, children. Please do not allow Mr Mbano's falsely-heroic monologues fool you into cowering away from the all-star education of this place. You are students, understood? And for that reason we do not discuss in-depth information with you, but with your parents instead. Now when I tell you that we are collaborating with the police department I mean it! So let us do our job and you do what you came here for: study, learn and pass your remaining exams. That would be all for this morning's assembly. Thank you"