STARS IN SLUM✔[Editing]

1. FAILED AGAIN

Despite the paintings on the wall, the cracks were still visible, the old off-white ceiling looked like it would fall off any moment due to the swell caused by the rain that had permeated through the leaking corrugated iron sheets.

A four-legged black table stood in the middle of the room, two worn-out leather sofas, a 6inches black and white television adjacent to a shabby-looking brown wardrobe, a bed-bug infested tattered foam on the floor by the right-end corner of the room, a fridge with its peeled body, a bamboo mat and of course some vital cooking utensils were all the Olayinkas could boast of.

Seated on one of the sofas, was Awwal, the first child and son, deep in thought due to the result of his mock exam which he failed woefully.

This was his third time and it meant that sooner or later, his younger brother Qoyyum would join him in S.S.S.3 just as how his juniors from S.S.S.2 joined him a few terms ago.

The little respect they accorded him went into thin air since they were already classmates, his small stature didn't help matter as he looked like he was just 16 whereas he was 20 years old.

His parents haven't still agreed that education wasn't his thing, he wanted to learn a skill but his parents declined when he spoke to them just yesterday as if he knew the aftermath of the mock exam.

His father, Dawood laughed maniacally when he said he would learn cobbling if he stopped attending school.

"Can you imagine? You want to be a cobbler, no, shoemaker. You will go to school, study and become the accountant you have always wanted to be," Dawood stormed out of the room.

He looked at the cockroaches roaming on the wall, he would have killed them with a few sprinkles of sniper if he was in the mood but it seemed they came to mock him too.

A rat with stale bread that hung in its tiny mouth ran into a hole in the wall and somehow he just wished he was an animal-no education, no pressure, but freedom.

He hurriedly hid the mock result in his bag when he heard the door creak. He was not ready to show it to his parents.

His younger brother entered, he heaved a sigh of relief and brought his result out back.

"Awwal Awwal, how come you are home this early?" Qoyyum asked as he dropped his bag on the foam and proceeded to remove his uniform.

Unlike his older brother, he had a well-built body at 17 and his face looked mature enough to portray the young man he was becoming.

"We closed early, you know they distributed our Mock results today," Awwal half lied.

They truly closed early but he left before others after having bribed the security man with a local gin.

Qoyyum stopped unbuckling his belt for a moment as he braced himself for the answer he would get if he asked just one question, while Awwal gulped and suddenly became nervous as if he was being interrogated.

"It's still the same thing, I failed," Awwal said as if he knew the question that was on the tip of his brother's tongue.

"I think we should talk to Mum so she would go see Dad's brother, you know Dad has never disobeyed him. He can't keep ignoring the fact, there's nothing wrong in learning a skill," he wrinkled his brows in frustration.

Awwal nodded and truly hoped his dad would listen to him, as he mentally prepared the short but captivating speech he would deliver to his mum if she came back later in the night.

"Are the girls not back yet ?" Qoyyum asked after their sisters.

"They are back but they aren't around. I want to go and pray," Awwal replied as stepped out of the room.