SOUR SIXTEEN
Sweet sixteen is a term associated with a damsel that is young and budding. Many ladies would readily want to be referred to as Sweet sixteen, for no one really wants to grow old or look old at best. Young men do not have such stigma, in fact they even want to become men as fast as they can. The number sixteen (16) doesn’t really matter to the male folk but in my case and in the story you are about to hear, the number sixteen (16) was a life changing and turning point for me.
I attended a very competitive secondary school many years back. It was a school where you do your singular best and you may still end up wondering why you still mop the floor bottom. We were made to see success as a necessity. We won interschool competitions. We competed for best in cleanliness every Saturday. Every continuous assessment had prizes attached to each arm of each class. It was a live-in daily competition. It wasn’t to see the other fail but to see that you could be the best, given your efforts.
I was not new to competitions and I was glad that the environment made me want to be better but the struggle was more than mental, it became emotional.
This particular term had raced to the end and the pressure of tests and examinations had faded completely. We were at the tail end of the term and it was customary for us to wait on the teachers to compile our results and hand us the judgment sheets before we were officially released to go for the holidays.
We had gathered in the classroom in our house wears and were gisting amongst ourselves. Free from pressure and school activities, we were in relaxed moods but beneath our façade you could make out the little and subtle quivering of our expectant minds. What would the result sheet say? How well would we do? We never voiced our thoughts and really I can’t say what others were thinking but I was definitely on edge.
The form master showed up and we organized ourselves. It was time to be sentenced or honoured! Grave silence fell on the entire class as we listened to the names from the roll. As you are called, you step forward and collect your result sheet. Many never waited to even say goodbye. Everyone was in his own individual mood and nobody wanted to traverse another’s space. We all needed our personal boundaries at a time like this save for those who had wonderful results.
“Onuoha C. Enyinnaya”, I heard my name
“Present sir”, I stifled my attempt to shout
I stepped forward and as the pink sheet was handed to me, I folded it and moved to a space free from all peering eyes. I didn’t bother to go through the individual subjects and scores, I went straight to the top right corner where the position was appended and then I froze! I was the SIXTEENTH in the class.
Unbelievable! Impossible! All the synonyms of the unprecedented failure stirred a mixture in my mind. How could I have come this low? With all my effort? I couldn’t bear this. I slunk away before anyone could notice me and come to ask me annoying questions. I was devastated. I lost my appetite immediately and going home for the holidays was suddenly not something to look forward to.
My parents would skin me alive. My morals would be so dashed compared to what I was feeling right now. I didn’t know what I could do. I just knew that I couldn’t go home with this result and this wasn’t a midterm break, it was a full holiday. I searched my ailing mind for a solution and for the first time I was really unaware of what to do to ameliorate the effect of this horrific failure.
I looked at the result sheet again and a thought crept through my mind. It was not a nice one but I it stayed.
I went hunting for a black biro. The position was written with a black biro and I needed to do some editing. It was handwritten. I took the biro and as carefully as I could, I merged the figure “1” to the figure “6”. The position visually translated from “16th” to “6th”. I didn’t feel good about it but what had to be done had to be done. I felt a bit of relief even though it was slightly noticeable that the figure “6” was looking well feed and a bit fat.
Well, I silently hoped that my parents wouldn’t notice and if they did, I guess the form master should answer their questions not me and thankfully I lived in another state about four (4) drive away from school and mobile phones were not a technology that was affordable at the time.
I was not a Christian then but I knew what I did was wrong. I didn’t know Jesus Christ as my Saviour and Lord yet I knew this wasn’t the right thing to do in any circumstance. I started to reason what I had done but then the image of my parents floated by again. They would kill me if I came home with that result. My dad would be grossly disappointed and my mum who was more practical would do more than just staying disappointed. I did it to save the condition and to appease their feelings and investments in me because I know I did my best in school but my result was saying something different. I did it for ALL of us.
I tried but I couldn’t sustain the thought. I was solely under a worse judgment from my conscience than my result and position posed. I tearfully picked up the black biro again and this time I added the figure “1” to the amended figure “6”. The sixteenth position appeared again but by now it was obvious I had tampered with the result. I was ready to face any repercussion. I didn’t cheat in my exams. I did my best, I expected the best and though I didn’t like the result but if this was what my effort could birth, then it was a reflection of how much work I had more to do. I determined not to add guilt and dishonesty to my already vivid fail grade. It was a very tough call.
I knew I would face two charges now. One for the position and the other for even trying to amend it. I folded my result sheet and expected the worst. I got home for the holiday and guess what? I didn’t die! They didn’t kill me. Not that I was welcomed with open arms or a warm embrace…ok, I actually got both but that was before I showed the result.
I lived to clinch a better position terms later. I got to know that pleasing my parents or myself and displeasing God was not just a temporary offence, it had eternal consequences. I determined never to alter my grades again and never to disappoint my parents. It spurred me to work harder so that I wouldn’t be tempted to falsify facts or attempt to discredit the truth.
That was many years back and that principle has helped me to live better. It has helped me to conquer many worlds and situations. Today my parents are more of friends and not just the bossy father and intolerant mother I felt they were.
Nothing is permanent and the idea of doing wrong today so that we could scale through tough situations tomorrow, is the same idea that would disqualify us when we rank high in our fields of endeavour. An honest man is sought after in any sphere of life. It’s not about being successful but having the character to bear success even in the face of impending failure.
Now I have more than enough grace to face even more trying situations and no matter how hard it becomes, no matter what is at stake I have come to learn that if I can stand true, I wouldn’t have much to worry about before my conscience and before God my father. Life is in phases and I will to live true for each one I encounter…so help me God.
Col 3:9 Don’t lie to one another. You’re done with that old life. It’s like a filthy set of ill-fitting clothes you’ve stripped off and put in the fire. (CEV)
Pro 3:7 Don’t be impressed with your own wisdom. Instead, fear the LORD and turn your back on evil. (NLT)