Boarding School  

 

Boarding school was the scent of green bar soap, spotted with garri, cabin biscuits, granulated sugar, cornflakes, and something else you could never place. It wasn’t a stench, this unexplainable whiff, but it was a flavour wrapped in a lingering feeling that made you almost sad in a happy kind of way. It was memories of simple moments; the sounds of iron buckets, squeaking hostel bunks, puerile rivalries, love letters, twilight before sunrise, obnoxious teachers, the smell of charcoal irons on checkered uniforms, film shows after dinner, and bursts of evolving knowledge … in the classrooms, in the dorms, at the sports field, and beyond. Boarding school was the aroma of growing up.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s