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S-xy high school girls Episode 8 & 9

Episode 8
[Millson’s Narration]
Initially, I wanted to stay at Tutukpene for the three-week vacation but something happened that changed my mind. I was going home that day when I saw a group of girls meeting in a secluded building. From the look of things, they had a sinister motive. They didn’t see me but I saw them.
I had a premonition that they were planning something against me. Seven girls wrote love letters to me. Now I saw five girls meeting secretly. Could that be a coincidental?
That night , I had a dream. In my dream, I saw a group of n-ked girls chasing me. Hmmm. plea-se don’t laugh at me. I suddenly woke up. It was then that I realised I couldn’t spend my vacation peacefully in the village.
I left Tutukpene the next day. In any case , if I go back to Accra, It will offer me the chance to see my family. I relished the warm company of my family, my father Peter and my sister Delise. I prefer to call her by her local name Ekuwa.
It had been many hours of travel
ling from that God-forsaken village called Tutukpene to Accra.
In reality, It had not being that long since I left my hometown but life in that village was simply boring.
Thank God I decided to leave that village to Accra to spend the three- week vacation.
I travelled by motorbike because finding a car from that village to the city is almost impossible. From that village to Accra is about 7 hours or 300 kilometers.
It was in the evening when I finally arrived in the city of Accra. Darkness was spre-ading its thick blanket on the city, signalling to the gloomy sun that its time was up. This natural phenomenon depicts the concept of time. To every activity on earth, there was an appointed time, a time for the sun to rise and a time for it to set.
Night was falling. The time was 7.00 p.m.The moon was slowly announcing its pres£nce.
Most of the city’s natural beauty was lost, hidden un-der the thick canvas of darkness. The tall buildings crowded close to both the streets and each other, obscured the sad sunset and plunging the ground below into de-ep dark shadow.
The streetlights which were powered by solar gave enough illumination to the streets, driving away the nocturnal creatures from the route. More darkness emanated from the evening sky.
The streetlight cast sickly yellow pools of artificial light around their immediate area, but somehow never managed to bridge the gap between adjacent lightposts entirely.
They were bright enough, to hide most of the stars from view, leaving the sky above Accra, a dull, undifferentiated gray slowly fading to black. The dorminance of the darkness was soon broken by the countless rays of light. I did not gaze up at the uninspiring sky.
The joy of being in my hometown
made me feel so excited. It was great coming back home.
Home sweet home.
Accra looked more sophisticated to me. Perhaps it was because I was now living in a village so coming back to the city felt new.
When I reached the station, I board a taxi home. The driver drove in the Obscurity, been aided by his headlight. I was almost home, ma-king my way to my father’s home throu-gh the winding, cobbled streets.
When I reached home, my parents were very happy to see me. They gave me a hearty welcome. My mother Naayah hvgged me like a lost son and my younger sister was super excited. We chatted over a lot of things.
It was a lovely reunion. The next day I had a conversation with my father.
My Father: Millson, how’s life?
Me: life’s difficult.
My Father: Hahaha. That’s what make it worth living. If it’s not difficult, then it’s not worth it.
Me: I agree with you?
My Father: How’s your experience in the village so far?
Me: Village life is quite adventurous.
My Father: How?
Me: Life is not automated in the village. It’s more of an active lifestyle. They used physical energy
while we use machines.
My Father: That’s the beauty of village life.
Me: That’s why village people live longer and active than us.
My Father: That’s a nice observation.
Me: Tutukpene s£nior high school is a single S-x school.
My Father: oh, I see. How are you coping there?
Me: Well.By his grace I’m managing.
My Father: How long will you do your internsh!pthere?
Me: One year.
My Father: How many of you are posted there?
Me: Nine.
My Father: I see. You won’t feel lonely, then.
Me: [ silent]
My Father: Why are you quiet.
Me: Dad, the truth is , I felt lonely all the time.
My Father: Why?
Me: My colleagues are not like me.
They chase the school girls.
My Father: Hmmm. Do you remember the advice I gave you?
Me: Yes, you said a teacher must be a lifelong learner because he can’t teach what he doesn’t know.
My Father: That’s good. Do you think it’s helpful?
Me: Yes, a teacher must learn everyday. That’s the only way he will be ahead of the students.
My Father: Ok. What is my second advice.
Me: You said I should be morally discipline and avoid [email protected]!ngthose adolescent girls.
My Father: Why should you avoid them?
Me: They can lead me into big problems
My Father: Good. So let me ask you, have you encountered any problem with teenage student girls
In the school?
Me: Yes, Dad. I encountered some
tempting situations. The truth is, the girls are highly attrac-tive and difficult to resist.
My Father: Have you sle-pt with any of them?
Me : No. I didn’t.
My Father: Good. Maintain your self control. I knew they will tempt you, they will tra-p you and some may even try to [email protected]£ you. They are matured and tempting , with big br£@st and bu-ttocks but look beyond the beauty. Look at your future and your dignity. Don’t let this girls overcome you. Make me proud of you. plea-se , don’t follow your colleagues and chase these girls. It always end with bitter consequences.
In Accra, I was becoming accustomed to home-life again when I realised the holiday was almost up.
It wasn’t long before the holiday ended and I had to return to that village again. Sadly, I said Goodbye to my parents and sibling and set off to Tutukpene.
Another term had begun. It was September and students began trick-ling in, like drops of water. Within two weeks , Tutukpene school was in full section.
I marked their end of term examina
tion papers and was appalled by the high rate of failure and poor performances among the student b©dy.
I wasn’t surprise though. Most of those students were not interested in learning. They love S-x. How can one combine love with education?
It was Dzifa’s performance that amazed me most.
{Dzifa’s Narration}
When I saw my end of term examination, my heart sank. I failed in most of the subjects!!!
When I reached home , I met my mother.She asked me why I was crying.Unable to answer her question, I by-pas-sed her into my be-droom where I sobbe-d.She knocked on my door but it was locked.
“My dear, “she said, “plea-se open the door.I want to talk to you .
” No, mum, I don’t want to talk to anyone, plea-se go, “I replied.
Without saying another world , she left.That evening, I refused to eat. I had a sleepless night . The next day, I bathed and went to school with a heavy heart. On reaching the school, I entered the clas-sroom and sat down, avoiding curious eyes.
Mr.Millson [email protected]£ to the clas-s. He admonished us to learn [email protected]
I gazed s£dûçt!velyinto his eyes .
After closing from school, he called me and enquire from me why I performed badly in his subject.
I was quiet.
The manner in which he spoke to me melted my heart. This Millson teacher,huh huh ! He was just too exceptional. He could adapt and [email protected] roles and he was task -oriented.
He made me so relaxed in his company to the extent that the invisible bridge between us seemed to break . It was not surprising ,therefore,when I said, “Sir, I LOVE YOU.”
Without uttering any word , he left.
It was then that I knew I had to st©p the di-ploma and do something more extreme.
Episode 9
[RECAP: In Episode 8, Millson went home to spend his holiday with his family after he dreamt some girls were planning something bad against him. At home, his father reminded him to keep his integrity amidst S-xual temptation from the students. When he returned to the village after the holiday, Millson advised his students to work [email protected] since most of them failed his exam. Dzifa proposed love to him but he left without a word]
Shocking Home Visitor
●~Weekend, Saturday~●
[ Millson’s Narration]
I was home , feeling too lazy to wash my clothes and sweep my small compound when I heard footsteps getting closer to my compound. Then she materialised onto my compound.
“I brou-ght you some jollof rice and meat, “she said.
I was surprised but remained quiet. She s-en-sed I was quiet and decided to probe further.
“Are you alright,Sir?”
“Yes, Dzifa’s,but I’m surprise to see you here.”
“Why?”She asked.
“I wasn’t expecting you,”I replied.
She gave me a ro-mantic smile and said, “don’t worry sir, you know life is full of surprises. I’m here to as-sist you with your household chores.”
Behind her generosity, I was highly sceptical. Why will my student pay me a visit just to help me when I have not ask of her help?”
Initially , I wanted to reject her offer but later decided to let her to what she wanted to do.
Somehow, I was really t©uçhed by her magnanimity and felt she truly cared for me. The most remarkable thing she did again was, she washed all my dirty clothes, including my T-shi-ts and she swept my room and arranged my stuffs at the right places.
I was moved by her dutifulness and felt impressed by her caring nature.
She stayed with me for a long time and insisted I ate the jollof rice.
I told her I will eat it when I got hungry.
In the evening , I politely asked her to go home. She was hesitant so I took the initiative to see her off.
I got to my room and it looked quite different. Neat and very organized.
I la-id on my neatly made be-d and asked myself, “Is it possible something real can happen between Dzifa and I?”
She was getting too close to me.
I don’t want to break the code of ethics of professional teachers and lost my dignity and respect by becoming emotionally and S-xually involved with female students. Despite my moral high ground, I Knew I was going to be in trouble if I didn’t caution myself.
I decided to immediately erased the thoughts of Dzifa from my mind.
But I wanted to help her pas-s her examination. I knew she could be a good student if she focused on her studies. The problem was, we wanted different things; She wanted to [email protected]£ me but I wanted to help her pas-s her examination.
I knew she had a strong feeling for me , but I was afraid it will lead to trouble and also I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t fulfill.
I have seen ladies cursing men who used and dump them. It was a sordid sight.
It was a tough decision for me, because I had to fight every temptation inside me. Sometimes struggling with the enemies within us is more difficult than the enemies we see outside.
~ The Next Two Weeks~
Dzifa showed a lot of seriousness. I saw her re-ading her books more frequently and avoiding most of the time wasting activities most of her mates usually engaged in.
Somehow, her change of attitude got me admiring her secretly. She got closer and closer to me.
That day, I didn’t see Dzifa in school. I was wondering what might have happened to her. As usual, I spent two good hours marking students’ exercises before deciding to go home.
There were about six other female students in my clas-s that behaved like they hated me.
I think they felt uncomfortable with my pres£nce in their clas-s. Seeing beyond their gestures, I believed they might have been disappointed in something I did.
Going down the memory lane , I didn’t remember doing anything that could have hurt them. Then something occurred to me. If I hurt these girls, it might have been because I rejected their love moves. If I rejected their love moves, then it’s because I didn’t reply their love letters. That’s it. It might have been a conjectureℹ. But I was convinced those were the girls who wrote the anonymous letters to me. What was more, they were six in number and the love letters, excluding Dzifa’s, were also six.
I returned home late that evening only to see my door open. My heart skipped a bit. At first I thought some thieves [email protected]£ and stole my belongings. It reminded me of how I returned from Accra to see my door tampered with. It looked as if someone had broken into my room but somehow managed to replace it. Now , my door is opened.
When I got closer I realised someone was in my room. I entered the room only to see one of the greatest shocks of my life……
Lying on my be-d was Dzifa,
completely n-ked from the crown of her head to the sole of her foot.
“Welcome sir,” she said calmly as if it was normal for her to be there in my room uninvited.
Ignoring her greeting,I immediately asked her, ” what are you doing here and how did you enter my room?”
She looked at me silently.
“Are you not the one I’m talking too?” I thun-dered.
Still,She was lying on my be-d n-ked and quiet.
I [email protected]£ visibly angry and advanced on her to pu-ll her from the be-d.
Just when I was about to pu-ll her from the be-d,she said,” Sir,Sir,
plea-se,let’s not spoil this wonderful moment. If you try to pu-ll me out of your room,I will shout on t©p of my voice and accused you of ra-ping me and you can imagine what the villagers will do to you. They will believe what I said because I’m a female student and you are a male teacher.”
At that moment,I realized I was cornered. I realised that in order to deal with the situation,what I nee-d to use was tact and wisdom.
What happened next?
) A statement or an idea which is unproven, but is thought to be true; a guess.
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