Monday is not bad, but it’s still better than Sunday in my opinion. I’m normally reborn every Monday morning at 6 am by my mobile phone alarm. This starts of with a beeb, following by an ascending beeb, beeb, beeb. I always take a bad weekend out on the alarm as soon as it goes off on Monday mornings. I hit the stop button so hard that I feel the key pad sensor weaken for roughly a second before reacting to my command. Unlike when I was back home in Nigeria, there was no alarm clock but one of my step mothers sprinkling water on my face and telling me it’s time for school.
I always have my thinking cap put away after doing my home work every Friday evening but it goes straight back on, on Monday mornings because then the education begins whereas in Nigeria I always need the thinking cap on because it’s a dog eat dog world out there especially without the presence of your mother, loneliness could creep in to one life at any moment with no real strong female role model. In no circumstance in Britain would I have to put in on my thinking cap, because I don’t see the necessity.
My eagerness for Tuesday’s arrival as soon as possible had grown over the last two years. This is due to being a volunteer in youth club called the Voluntary Police Cadets. I know when you see the word police the question that comes to mind is, does she want to become a police officer? To get you out of your misery the answer is no. However I don’t have a specific career in mind, but if I want to choose a profession the Police can be another option since I’m only studying AS Accounts, Business, French and English Language GCSE. The Voluntary Police Cadet (VPC) is a youth club for the age between 14 and 19 where youths come together and learn about police duties. Other than studying the law, we go on trips such as rock climbing, abseiling, etc. For my two years of loyal service I’m rewarded with a week in South Africa to represent the Metropolitan Police, free of charge. Back in Nigeria, there was no youth club for those who do not attend private school, for the less lucky students had to return from school try to did the homework set and find how to occupy the rest of their day. Over the years my luck had changed. I once had few chances but now I have the opportunity.
By 7 am I’m at the bus stop waiting for the bus. It’s crucial I get to college by 9 am because I want my EMA paid to my account as quickly as the DFES can get the transaction completed. This I feel is a good idea because it motivates the students into furthering their education. Personally if it was left up to me, I’ll stroll into college how I want and anytime I please whereas the Nigerian government does not give a damn if half Nigerian teenagers don’t have a primary education. I have three lessons on Wednesday which are Accounts, Business and English. I normally commence my accounts class knowing what is going on but come out of the class completely baffled. Business class is my favourite (at the moment) it may be due to the fact that my table is the noisiest in the class or because I mainly copy from the board and don’t think about what I am doing. English had always been my worst subject in school and it still is in college, maybe it’s because of my predicted grades (who knows). I hardly ever talk in English class at college, which is very unlike me. Probably because I haven’t made any friends yet or I just can’t be bothered.
My hatred for Thursday is much greater than the grudge against Sunday. Once it’s 7 o’clock in the evening I have to retire from what ever I’m doing to the bathroom to do my chores. My chores mainly consists of scrubbing the bath till I can see my reflection on it, (at least that’s what my mum said) the same goes for the sink. At least something doesn’t change. Similarly to Nigeria, I also did chores but it’s sweeping instead. After completing the task I return to my mum to nag her and moan to her different reasons why I shouldn’t have to do any chores.
I pronounce every Friday, the day of celebration, for this day the weekend commences. I finish college at 12 pm, which makes my weekend arrival at home no longer than an hour. I kick back and relax, doing absolutely nothing.
There isn’t much to say about Saturday since there is nothing for me to do, no chores no homework freedom is at my reach on this day. My day mainly consists of waking up then turning to the television for some amusement for at least two hours before pressured to the bathroom by mother. After a bubble bath I return to my bed until round two till it’s time for me to set out to different destinations of African parties.
Since I’m able to breathe and do other things by myself that is something for me to be thankful for. I was not complaining about my well being in Nigeria but comparing how my opportunity (or should I say luck) had widened over the years, I feel I have not lived enough yet to experience all the possibilities for me.
