UDE, Chiedozie Orji.
I find it difficult to write fiction and this explains why my little forays into storytelling revolves around a past experience in my life. Today is not an exception because I want to tell you all a story. A story that has no regard for morals. A story of the absurd, by the absurd and for the absurd. A story about a plethora of phalluses, little ones. Do read carefully.
The time I spent in Junior Secondary School was a feisty period of my life. It was a time when I was beginning to come of age; a time of puberty. It was a time when I learnt that one’s penis was not meant to serve only as a pissing tool.
I was in JS2 and I was one confused preteenager. I could not explain why the little man decided to stretch out its limbs when I saw or heard the slightest erotic thing. However, this problem became explicable during Integrated Science class. I never really loved anything science based but the topic of the day was one that would fill my holy head with a lot of images; pictures about copulation. I was not much interested in boobs because all the girls in my age grade were yet to develop them, but the topic of the day drew my attention to everything worth paying attention to. The topic was reproduction.
Mr. Paul, our handsome tall teacher who was rumoured to be in an illicit affair with a girl in JS3, seemed to be enjoying himself. He graphically explained to us the concept of an erection, how the penis uncurled itself and stood gallantly, like a proud soldier hoisting the flag of his country, as it sought its way into a woman’s vagina. He revelled in the discomfort our small and innocent faces must have emanated, for we were all trying to look saintly; after all, we were all good children.
Mr Paul ended the class rather abruptly, for he did not completely tell us what an ejaculation was. I was curious, what did an ejaculation feel like? How would one know when one was about to ejaculate? Nonso speculated that the feeling must be similar to what one felt after one was able to urinate after holding up the urine for hours in one’s bladder, and we could not help but to agree with his masterful logic for Nonso was known for his intellectual dexterity.
Having satisfied our curiosity on what ejaculation felt like, we moved to the ejaculator itself. Comparing penis sizes became our next sport. Funnily enough, this new game was to spread like wild fire because many a boy decided to dangle his phallus like it was some award-winning object, maybe it was. It was a time of separating the wheat from tares; a time of “MACHOrity”.
So, showcasing our lower region to fellow boys became a habit. We would occupy a part of the class that was devoid of girls to practice our newly-found proclivity. We had no homosexual tendencies; we were just kids who were revelling in our latest invention — penis exhibition. In terms of size, none of us had much back then. In fact, the only person to have pubic hairs was a boy named Jerry. Jerry was older than most of us, and his age showed. He was the only one whose phallus filled his palms. The rest of us could simply use two fingers to pick ours. Because Jerry was the biggest amongst us, he had the envy of all the boys, he basked in his moments of stardom for it was the only time he had ever come first in anything.
Of course, there is always a comeuppance for stupid acts and the phallus danglers were about to be sold out. It happened on the last day of the term, that fateful sunny day. Jerry was becoming too big for his boots, behaving as if he was the only endowed teenager in the world (the posturing peacock of a boy). To say the truth, he was getting on my nerves, and I still know till this day that my anger was not based on the fact that he was bigger, even though he thought so (the bloody idiot!). Jerry was to make that costly mistake that would destroy the phallus danglers.
That day, I decided to stay away from the clique and that was the day Jerry showed his lice-infested stuff for a last time. He probably wanted to make a lasting impression on everyone before the holidays. Unfortunately, Taiwo, a tell-tale of a boy, saw him and reported to the authorities. This was the beginning of a long and rigorous process of fishing out other participants. Jerry was not going down alone, the bloody coward.
Names were mentioned and boys were implicated. Yours truly was among the names that were released. Gently, yours truly picked up his bag and gently walked out in the confusion, for there was an uproar and students were everywhere. When I got outside the gates, I ran faster than I had ever done before; in fact, it will be an understatement to say that I ran faster than the speed of light.
Up till today, I still take pride in the fact that I escaped a beating despite being among the pioneers who invented the sport of dangling phalluses. In addition, whenever you see boys clustered in a particular place, you may want to believe that they are comparing penis sizes. Also, it is important for me to point out here that I still do not know what an ejaculation feels like, really?