The Sound That Changed Our Lives

 [3 min read]

My sitting partner was a big fan of soliloquy; chanting gibberish under the guise of French verbs while she scribbled invisible words on the table with an inkless pen. It was the ' mass study period', you see- a whole hour dedicated to the ever irksome task of reading- and like most of the other girls in school, I had long given up on the books spread out on my desk. 

The day would have carried on as usual; I would've fallen asleep eventually, only to be awakened by a teacher with a loud slap. The letters and numbers on my math book would've swirled around in my brain until I was dizzy with algebra, and the school bell would have relieved us all with three chimes. 

Nothing could have prepared us for the shrill sound we heard next.

It was an alien to our ears, but somehow, we all knew what the frantic noise was:

 The alarm bell!

Whispered conversations seized as the sound enveloped the school, and eyes darted to and fro the auditorium at the teachers that hastily locked the doors and windows with the stealth of ninjas.

A new type of fear showed its face when I heard the bell; the type that left one too shocked to react appropriately. I'd always thought that it was confined to the dramatic soap operas I detested so bitterly.

'When you hear the alarm bell, stay calm, wherever you are. Don't move or talk until the teachers ask you to do so!' the principal's voice echoed in my head.

I laughed at the time, pointing out that nobody would actually 'stay calm' if Boko Haram attacked the school. Even my father found the principal's words amusing when I relayed them to him later that day.

'What would Boko Haram be looking for in Port Harcourt of all places?!' he exclaimed, barely able to contain his chuckles.

I was snapped out of my reverie by the cacophony of chairs and tables sliding across the floor. Silence:the golden rule of the moment had quickly been forgotten. 

'Find your homeroom teacher and stand behind her!' the principal's voice echoed again in my mind's ears.

My heart banged at my chest as fear took over my body and my eyes wandered about anxiously, searching for the signature low-cut hairstyle of Mrs. Taiwo. I pushed my way through the frenzied crowd that consisted of all the students and teachers in the school, more concerned for myself than the people I trampled with my movements. 

A forceful tug had me out of the pandemonium in no time. 

'We were looking for you! Walk faster!' my sister shouted, her voice barely​ overshadowing the cries of students and teachers as they tried to call out to their class members.

I walked hand in hand with her, completing the chain of 20 Marie Curie students led by Mrs. Taiwo.

 'ID cards!' she commanded simply, as she made her way towards the stage, pushing the curtains aside and placing her card on the wall. It parted and shut promptly when she passed through, leaving us awed and eager to follow suit. 

It seemed like a million years had passed by when we completed the flight of stairs and made it to the bunker. 

Stretched before us was an expanse of darkness that seemed to go on forever. We walked on, still locked in our ever fortunate chain of frightened humans(we would later speak our fears when we were settled, that Mrs. Taiwo was a cultist arranging us for some sort of ritual). Trailing behind us were the students who'd noticed Mrs. Taiwo's little magic trick and said au revoir to whatever protocol the principal had described on Sunday.

We stopped abruptly, and as bodies bumped into bodies, and profanities filled the air, the flick of a switch echoed in the hall and Mrs. Taiwo cleared her throat.

'Ladies!' she whispered, gesturing for us to gather close to her. 'If you remember correctly, the principal talked about this bunker during the impromptu assembly on Sunday night…'

'There's something wrong with this woman,' my sister whispered hastily. 'How can she be so calm in a time like this?'

'If the teacher looks frightened, how are we supposed to feel?' I replied with equal speed, in a bid to dismiss her.

'Whether-' she started, before a loud bang cut her short.

We fell to the ground, instinctively, covering our heads with our hands. The room shook as we did, and I suddenly noticed the cupboards on the walls that rattled and danced at their own rhythm.

We didn't know it yet, but that world-rocking explosion was merely the prelude to a series of  rather horrifying episodes that would go on for almost four months. Some people didn't even make it to the bunker in time.

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