Alayonmbere - The Gecko

Chapter 2

The moment we step into the Technical Drawing lab, which is on the third floor of the building opposite ours, some of our classmates unchain their rabid tongues.

"Late-comers," one lousy boy yells at us as we step into the class. "Always together."

"Siamese twins," says another, evoking grins and muffled laughter on the faces of many.

Provocative jibes fly around in scores, but these loud-mouths won't force me into needless verbal exchanges. Clearly, they lack the necessary skills to gauge someone's emotions. I rebuff their taunts, casual and otherwise.

Ladun taking the lead, we glide through the long workbenches which always reminds me of an overstretched dining table. The TD lab itself is like a large dining hall, only that the drawing boards serve as the plates and bowls while the cutleries are our compass sets, rulers and set-squares.

Our mates are seated on wooden stools opposite one another, some already neck-deep into their old drawings, even before Mrs. Joseph, the TD teacher, walks in.

Ladun and I take our seats at the tail end of the third workbench after which my right hand lodges under my chin, an act which draws a gasp from her. She brings out her drawing tools, place them on the table and does the same for me.

"We're here to study," Ladun pokes her right index finger into the drawing book as if she's my aunt, whereas there's only eleven months' gap between us, she being older. "Cheer up, girl." She touches my cheeks, flashing an encouraging smile.

Maybe it's time to let her know why I'm unhappy. Yes, we can discuss it before the teacher walks in. "Are you surprised that I'm so quiet?" I ask without looking at her.

"Yes. It's unusual of you on a school day." Ladun's hands flail.

"Well, It's this same issue with my name," I puff out my problem, glancing around the lab.

Ladun's shoulders deflate as she turns a bewildered face at me. "You're still on this name matter?" she whispers. "But for how long will you worry yourself? Why don't you just accept things for what they are and move on with your life?" she says, gnashing her teeth.

"You don't understand." I wave my right hand across my face.

Ladun shakes her head and then leans over the drawing paper, unwilling to dig into a persuasion drive that'll lead nowhere. Her stance is clear: I shouldn't start with that issue this morning. I turn down the urge to bore her with my endless whining, but inwardly, the desire burns to know why I feel so different.

Casting studied glances on the faces of my mates, I ponder over their names – the basis of my daily gripe which has since become a huge burden. Just look at them all with meaningful and lovely names – appellations which carry some significance and history. These guys walk around with names friendly to the ears.

For a start, Ladun to my left is the shortened form of Omoladun – a child is a joy. Who won't be happy to be called joy? The other girl over there bears Aduke – the one we should strive to protect. Oh Lord, what a name that is!

On my right, the beefy boy answers AbdulRahman – servant of The Gracious, as he once told me. Even opposite me the tall guy is called Ndubuisi – life is the head of everything.

Just look around me. You'll find Antoinette – highly praiseworthy; Lerato – love; Zama – striving; Akande – the one whose turn it is to arrive. How sweet these names sound to the bearers?

The teacher we're expecting is Mrs. Joseph, a name we know from the scripture. Our principal goes by the name Mrs. Durojaiyeola – wait and enjoy a life of wealth.