“For those of you who are new here, my name is Madam Marie Yevutsey. In this school we value discipline and hard work. We do not tolerate lateness, tomfoolery or stupidity.” Madam Yevutsey continued speaking for about forty-five minutes and the auditorium remained as quiet as a cemetery. She went through all the rules in the rule book from the first page to the last so that no one could claim ignorance of the rules.

The ones that applied to me as a day student were:

1. Students were not allowed to alter their uniforms in any way (I had already broken that rule and so had everyone else).

2. Students, especially female students, were not allowed to apply chemicals to their hair. Males were not supposed to cut their hair so low that the scalp showed.

3. Nails were to be cut short and were not allowed to be painted. No lip shine, gloss or make-up of any form, or jewellery apart from stud earrings and wristwatches were allowed.

4. Students were supposed to stand, smile and look at the faces of teachers before greeting them.

5. Fighting was not tolerated on or off the school campus.

6. Morning assembly was compulsory for all students.

7. Day students were not allowed on the school campus during non-teaching hours.

8. Students were to conduct themselves in an orderly manner, both within the campus and elsewhere.

9. Lateness to any school function was inexcusable.

10. Students were only allowed to call teachers by their surnames, never by nicknames or first names.

11. Speaking Ewe, pidgin English or any other vernacular was prohibited on the school compound.

12. Students were not to make unnecessary noise on the school compound.

13. Students were not to possess or use mobile phones, cameras or any music playing devices.

14. Students were to do punishments given to them by prefects and teachers before they complained.

15. Students were expected to exercise common sense at all times. A breach of common sense was a breach of school rules for which the student would be liable to punishment. Students were to bear in mind that ignorance of the law was not an excuse.

“A word to the wise is . . .” Madam Yevutsey said.

“Enough,” the student body chorused.

I could see why they called her “Mari Jata”, she was to be feared. She hadn’t even smiled once since she entered the auditorium. A few teachers spoke after Mari Jata took her seat. The new students were asked to wait behind and the rest of the school was dismissed. The boarders were sent to their respective houses to meet with their house masters and house mistresses. The day students were sent to the administration block where we presented our admission letters and receipts of fee payments to the school administrator. She produced a timetable for my class and had one of the prefects take me to the form two science block. Class had already started when I entered. The prefect spoke to the teacher who asked me take a seat. I could feel all eyes on me. There were two vacant seats—one right in front, th other way at the back. The whispering began as I walked to the back of the class. I heard someone whisper ‘Dr Blight’, someone else snickered. My face grew hot as I remembered Dr Blight from the Captain Planet cartoon. She had worn her hair over one side of her face to hide a horrible scar also on the left side of her face.

The teacher whose name I didn’t get said, “This is Yayra Amenyo. She’ll be joining us for the rest of the year.” It was a maths class and he was teaching quadratic equations, something I could do with my eyes closed. Whenever the teacher turned his back, people turned and stared openly at me. You’d have thought I was some kind of freak on display.

“What happened to her face?” someone whispered.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” the person he was talking to whispered back.

I pretended that I hadn’t heard and kept my head up though I felt tears pricking the back of my eyes. After the class, one boy yelled, “Hey new girl, what happened to your face?” It wasn’t as easy to pretend I hadn’t heard.

“Car accident,” I said.

“Shoulda worn your seatbelt,” he said and turned back to his book.

The second lesson was chemistry. I tried to pay attention but soon gave up. At break time, a group of girls walked out together. One of them turned and looked at me. She said something to the other two who both turned and giggled.

“Dr Blight, no break for you?” I ignored them. In high school hierarchy, they are the popular girls, the girls who come from rich families and look down on anyone who isn’t like them. Usually that included people who didn’t go to a particular group of junior high school; or who don’t live in a particular area; or who don’t attend a particular kind of church or mosque; or shop or hang out at all the popular places. They are the Nana Ama Attakyia’s of the world. There’s at least one of them in each school. Now I had three of them in my class. They were still giggling when a boy walked past them.

“Hey, Vampire! How were your holidays?” the girl in the middle called out.

A second girl asked, “Did you drink lots of human blood?” The boy glared at them and walked out. The three girls left the classroom giggling. I remained on my seat while people left in twos and threes.

When the classroom was totally empty I took out my phone. I knew it was against the rules but I had known there would be no way I’d get through my first day without seeing my father’s face. There was no way I’d survive the day without hearing his voice, without hearing him laugh. I played one of the videos I ha taken of him at home dancing and singing along to Kojo Antwi’s Tom and Jerry Awareɛ. My Dad was a fantastic dancer. He could twist and turn in any which way—we used to dance together all the time. He just had to hear a tune and he‘’d be on his feet.

“Happily married,” I had called out from behind the camera.

“What?”

“An oxymoron—happily married.”

He had slowed down his steps as he continued dancing but he considered it for a minute and said, “Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because most people are happily married.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you happily married?”

He had stopped dancing and turned to look at me. I had zoomed in to capture his face. He had suddenly looked very serious.

“Of course I’m happily married. What makes you ask that?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Did your mother say anything to you?”

“About what?” I had asked beginning to feel uncomfortable. Had they been fighting?

“I love you and your mother very much, okay? Don’t ever forget that.”

“Are you like dying or something? Do you like have cancer or some incurable disease?”

“Hey, can’t I tell my own daughter that I love her? When did that become a crime?”

“I didn’t mean . . .”

“Never mind. Come and join me,” he had said offering his hand to me. The video showed a portion of the ceiling as I put the phone down and danced with him.

After about thirty seconds of showing the ceiling the screen went blank. I switched off the phone when I heard students coming into the classroom. They were speaking Pidgin English. I sighed in relief as DJ Samsizzle and another boy entered. Both of them wore their shorts lying low on their buttocks. DJ was in one of the sneakers that had been in the transparent polythene bags. His companion wore a similar brand of sneakers.

“I couldn’t find you at the snack square. Aren’t you hungry?” DJ asked.

I shook my head.

“My cuson dat,” he told the boy reverting to Pidgin English.

“Be like I know am somwhere,” the boy said staring at me.

“Shun fool. If you mess with am, I go make you know,” DJ said and smacked the boy’s head.

“No for real. I see am before for somplace,” the boy insisted.

“Padiman, you for dey g,” DJ warned.

“I no dey lie. I see am before.”

DJ snorted, “Apuu! The chick plus im Momee land on Saturday. Yesterdee dem come ma dere. Where you meet am for?”

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Was he also going to say I reminded him of Dr Blight?

“Maybe you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“No, I never forget a face . . . I’m sure it will come to me.

Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. My name is Mawuko Kosidem but everyone calls me -”

“Gbagladza,” he and DJ said together and gave each other high fives.

I knew what gbagbladza meant. Daddy had been terrified of cockroaches. He used to shout “gbagbladza, gbagbladza” anytime he saw a cockroach and jumped on a chair or table until Mama and I came and killed it. I had no idea why a grown man would be afraid or cockroaches. I also had no idea why anyone would name himself after a cockroach.

“I’m Yayra Amenyo,” I said and offered my hand.

“Blessing. That’s a pretty name.”

For the first time since I’d entered the school compound I felt better. For the first time in my life no one had made any wisecracks about my name. For the first tim in my life I felt proud of my name and felt like I belonged.

“What‘’s your nickname?” Gbagbladza asked.

“I don’t have one,” I said.

“Nickname no be force. Make we go chop, I dey hung,” DJ said.

I followed them to the snack square and bought a bag of plantain chips. When school closed that day, DJ and Gbagladza walked with me to the roundabout. They were both day students like me. They waited for me to board the hospital bus before they left. I had survived the first day. I had fifty-nine more days to go.

*****

“So how was school?” Mama asked when she came home later that night.

“Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did you make friends?”

I thought of all those who had stared at my face. I thought of the girl who had called me Dr Blight and of the other girls who had laughed at me. I thought of how alone I had felt until DJ showed up with his crazy friend, Gbagbladza. “Yes, one.”

“That’s great,” Mama said and I could see she was relieved.

“Just give it time, it will all be fine.”

I shook my head, surprised that she didn’t have a clue that it would NEVER be fine. “Don’t tell me ‘it will all be fine’, ‘cause it won’t. I will NEVER be a normal person, not with this face, not when I shit through my stomach!” I went to my room and slammed the door. She didn’t come after me.

Later that night both Sofi and Dede called me. We had a conference call.

“How did it go?” Dede asked.

I told them everything including all the bits I had edited out of Mama’s version.

“Ignore them,” Sofi said and I could feel the anger in her voice. “I’m sure they have inferiority complex issues.”

I didn’t agree with Sofi but I didn’t say anything. How could those girls be feeling inferior? They had everything! They were beautiful, rich, smart and were among the most popular girls in the school.

“Someone will show them one of these days, just you wait and see. What goes around does come around,” Dede said.

I immediately felt better. They told me about my old school and old friends but neither of them mentioned Bobby and I didn’t ask.

“So are there any cute guys?” Sofi asked.

“Sofi!” Dede shouted.

“What?” Sofi shouted back. “I have nothing against long distance relationships.”

“I don’t care about your relationships. It was her first day. Do you seriously think she was checking boys out?”

I smiled as Sofi and Dede continued their bantering. It was just like old times. I missed them so much.