Self Manipulation

They sat in that same rectangular table they had sat on six months ago while hatching the plot. Mr. Minister of education Adewale Osinba, The head of West African Examination Council in Nigeria(WAEC) Mrs. Nkala, and her Nigerian deputy Mr. Mohamed Isiaku. They think that even though secret that more than two are aware of is no longer secret, their composition, mission, and what is there for all assured them of its secrecy. For the seventh year running now, the best secondary school Western Examination council (WAEC) results have all come from the same region of the country and some people are worried about the future of their children. They believed that the same region producing these brilliant students has grudges against their regions. The future isn't their friend if the trend isn't arrested now they had concluded six months ago. Psychological boat works wonders.

  “ I am glad to see you two again. It’s as if we are prophets and prophetess their prophecy came true months later. It has been easy to be a prophet in this one area in this country for eight years now. “It has happened again” The gloomy manner the Minister delivered that opening statement passed the depth of his sorrow across to the other two. The two haven seen the result from their office and were sure of what he was hinting at, What was surprising to Mrs. Nkala was the pain the minister was passing through and how he was shifting the WAEC result sheet in front of him away from him as he spoke as if it’s content might jump out and bite him. To think that his deputy Mohammed Isiaku had been in mourning since yesterday the results were forwarded back to the country from the nation that marked them, spoke volumes. Her office in Nigeria had been receiving what she considered first-class treatment from the Nigerian government since last year she assumed leadership of the office in Nigeria. She was to know the why behind the treatment and invitations at any gathering being hosted by the government since she came and at times the monetary aspect of the whole thing after some speaking engagements she was invited to, which is the most unbalanced payment she has seen in person. Simply, what was said wasn’t worth the money she was being paid. Six months ago she was summoned to this very office in the wee hours of the morning to clear her confusions.

  “ Mr. Minister Sir, there’s almost nothing anyone can do in this type of situation. Had the papers been marked at home here, it would have been easier to tamper with it but as the papers were shifted to other countries and theirs back to here as with tradition, how are you going to know who will come top and who will not?- simply difficult to do something about it. Each country saves the duplicate of each paper for four years before doing away with them. Liberia marked Nigerian papers this year and the man heading the office there is the one person I know nothing about. Bringing this kind of request to him is too dangerous in all ramifications. I can't just commit this suicide” The minister was eyeing her like hawk eyes a chicken that believes its mother wasn't paying attention but past experiences in the hands of some mother hens have taught it to always respect itself. It's as if they have eyes at the back of their heads too. “ Madam, what we are saying is to just try. Everyone and everything has prices in this world, what we need to find out is just that asking price. Netizens nearly commented on us out of office last year. Their stand is so pronounced that we understand their fears. Just try” her Deputy Mohammed Isiaku equipped.

 “Let me hear your suggestion that lean on our side. All you have said is leaning away from us. Say something that tips towards Nigerian interest”

The woman sighed before realizing that she was heard. “Maybe, you should forge result and forwards it to her and boycott the Liberia office. If that is so important to you two. How would she know?”

“She?- she is a girl? Is this Name a girl's name? Ha!, this is bigger problem. They don’t like marrying outside their tribe and their reasons like their male counterparts. How will it not backfire I don’t trust those people to not find out. They are good at this kind of snooping”

“ Sir, there are other problems besides this girl. The two others following behind her were all from that region too”

“ What!? Ha! These people, what Is happening there really? How are exams being conducted in that region Mohammed? Are you sure they are not cheating the hell out of us there?”

“ The other two finished from our regions. One from yours and the other from the north”

They were still at it for hours talking to themselves as it seems to Mrs. Nkala observing them. She was listening to them and toiling with buttons in her phone she placed in her front. What they were vomiting from their mouth is not printable that she was having problem holding her system in order.

Days later after the result was released to the public. The three front runners fall behind to seventh, eighth, and ninth places behind others from the western and northern languages. The boy from western region who finished fourth became first and was being marketed all over the place. Internet, TV, and Newspapers. 

Meanwhile, in their WAEC head office in Abuja, they overlooked the fact that middle-aged cleaner. Mrs. Ngozi Okeke cleaning staff tables and offices is an Igbo woman. She had overheard staff vibrating for four days and insinuating in voices rinsed in envy and jealousy that Igbos cheat in exams. “How is it possible that they have been finishing first each year for almost a decade now?” one had shouted. She recorded and filed the information away while smiling to herself. Mrs. Ngozi was surprised when a young western region boy was being paraded about in the papers, TV, and internet and was being showered with millions by different organizations, and federal government and promised all manners of scholarships abroad. 

 The weather was cloudy as if they were part of the conspiracy against her people. Back at home that day, her husband who always saw her jovial noticed that something was amiss that day. She greeted him and passed straight to her room. After showering, she came out without glancing at the meal set on what passed as a dining table and lay down on the sofa they had scrapped together from Antic Market. Almost the same age as the lady laying down on it. The husband and her daughter decided to give her few minutes before asking her what the matter was.

WAEC results were not her main source of her downbeat. She was wondering if something like WAEC would be a government problem to the extent of tampering with it, What of more serious issues like elections, court judgements, appointments, and allocations? 

She eyed her husband and daughter, eyed the TV and the drama they were watching

“ We are not counted. Now I believe that we don’t belong truly here" they were eyeing her knowing that she is a someone who doesn’t talk anyhow. What she saw must be extra important to touch her the way it did. “Five days ago, I overheard some staffs from our offices talking in anger and voice laden with jealousy on how Igbos cheat in exams, that they have done it again. I know without seeing the results that an Igbo kid has came top again this year. Our office was as if a colleague died. How come it is Yoruba boy they were parading around after five days and Igbos coming distance seven to nine? if government will be paying attention to something like common WAEC, how about other important policies?- shit, our people are suffering”

After listening to her and asking her a few questions to established certain facts, her husband picked up his phone and went into his room to talk to people they didn't know and after about thirty minutes, he came out started watching the drama again without talking to anyone.

   The next day The Igbo socio cultural group Chirman was all over the media talking about fake results and the complicity of the WAEC Nigerian office and their Nigerian instigators behind the fake results. The statement alone ignited rounds of national hatred smoldering for long. The socio cultural group announced they would be sending their members to pay a visit to the WAEC head office in Abuja and talk to their leader Mrs. Nkala from there to Liberia before finishing their visit with one at the government house in Accra Ghana. The planned visits were splashed all over the media. Fake results and culpability became the headline of every major outfit. Netizens were busy firing themselves on the Net.

   Mrs. Nkala sent message to the minister of education after a lengthy secret talk with his Nigerian deputy. Whom was doing everything possible to calm her down? “I am from Ghana, not here. Our hard-earned reputation since independence need taking caring of. We value it seriously more than any kind of gift and quest, especially the one as immature as this am witnessing here.

 The minister ushered them into the same rectangular table room from where both saw another version of Mrs. Nkala they knew not. The woman started talking animaltedly from the door and did not wait for any formalities. “ You must invoke magic to stop those people from talking to my government, and you must go out and tell your nation as it is, You must start a story that doesn't include me or my office as the source of that result and all those marketing the boy that came distance fourth how you do it isn't my concern. Just do it”

“How I do it? Who do you think i am? I am just an ordinary minister, not the damn president”

“ I am not anything, don't care how ordinary you suddenly became. I told you from day one that you people in this nation always believe that everything stands and ends with money. You wasnt to Liberia and they waved you on and yet you still do it and were stupid enough to be marketing that boy all over the place. Don't you know by now they would have gone through their record and are ready to send the real result free of charge to anyone that required it? Are you this empty in the head?”

The minister flared up. “Hey, watch your words. I give you access to this office and pay you for any thirty minutes of stupid speech you made. Never allow that to send wrong signal to you? That I called myself ordinary minister must the not send wrong signal to you. You supposed to reciprocate what is wanted from you. If you insult me again, a little accident might happen to you. Do I make myself clear?”  

“ Fuck you and fuck your office. I know from day one that you are psychologically disturbed in this country. Talking every day with this thing here in our office assured me of that fact. I take precautions when dealing with mad people, psychos the like the two of you. So, never threaten me with anything or I will surprise you both”

She stormed out of the office throwing the door ajar, leaving both of the mopping at her receding back. After staring at the open door and eyeing the overhead clock on the wall there, with time around 1:45am., both know It will be sleepless night and day. They sat down to talk and when they reached a consensus that sounded wise, the minister picked up his phone and dialed a numberr that ring somewhere in Igbo land. The owner picked up the call, after thirty minutes of speaking, which seemed to be a one directional like train movement, he drop the phone and his head on the table and waved for scotch to be poured for him. 

The minister realizing that the game was over asked the deputy WAEC chief to upload the real result onto the portal. People woke up to another fresh set of results that triggered demonstrations in the western and the northern parts of the country. The minister resigned, laying the blame on what he called technology fart, and promised the federal government will do something about it.

 Mrs. Nkala went to the national network news to confirm the real results and assured the nation that it was a technological malfunction and that everything had been taken care of. The Netizens wanted to know if it is the real, real result or if they were to expect another real after. Is this one the final, final? She assured them that she had personally reviewed the results and all were correct. She was shown giving the girl that came first her slip in the TV, hugging and promising personal donations to her and her school.