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.


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