The morning light crept gently through the mosquito mesh of Dorm B2. Kingstar sat up before the bell rang. He wasn't used to waking up this early, but something about being in a new place, surrounded by strangers, made sleep feel like a luxury he couldn't afford.
By 5:00 a.m., the dawn bell rang. Within minutes, the whole dorm was buzzing. Bath queues. Teeth brushing. Students chanting their memory verses or forming lines to scrub bowls.
The day moved like a marching band: loud, orderly, and inescapable.
After morning devotion and a rushed breakfast of milky tea and hard bread, all Form Ones were marched into the Assembly Hall for orientation. They sat from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., legs stiff, minds full. Senior teachers talked about discipline, prayers, academics, and the school motto: "Fides, Virtus et Scientia" Faith, Virtue, and Knowledge.
By the time orientation ended, Kingstar's back ached, and his mind felt like soaked gari too much, too fast.
But it wasn't over.
After supper, evening prep began from 6:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. in the classrooms. This was mandatory. No noise. No walking around. No sleeping. Everyone had to sit and study.
Kingstar entered the classroom and found a seat near the back. He had barely opened his exercise book when he leaned over to ask a fellow Form One boy:
"Please, which textbook did the senior say we should buy for Maths?"
Before the boy could even answer, a sharp voice cut across the room.
"Hey, you! In the blue checked shirt. Stand up."
Kingstar stood up quickly.
From the other side of the room, a tall, lanky boy with an armband reading PREP PREFECT walked toward him.
"This is not talking time. This is prep. You just got here and already breaking rules?"
Kingstar tried to explain.
"Please I was just asking "
"I don't care. You're here to learn, not to whisper like you're in a market. What's your name?"
"Kingstar… Sir."
The Prep Prefect narrowed his eyes.
"Kingstar? Well, Star or not, this is my kingdom during prep. And next time you talk, I'll make sure you kneel for the full two hours. Now sit down. You've been warned."
Kingstar clenched his jaw but said nothing. He sat, heart pounding. Embarrassed. Angry.
Back home in Anomangye, even the teachers gave you room to talk in class. But this place this was something else. Rules were alive here. They had teeth.
As the bell rang to close prep, Kingstar looked at the words he had written in his book. Only half a page. The rest was just anger and scattered thoughts.
"So this is St. Hubert," he muttered to himself again. "No one here will make it easy for me."
But one thing he knew for sure: he wasn't going to let any senior or prefect intimidate him into failure.