Omooooo!! You just unlocked premium secondary school trauma and vibes at the same time!

Those students that used to jump out through the window? I swear they had PhDs in Disappearing Arts. One moment you’re looking at the board, next thing you hear “Pa!” — window slide open, one leg out, and boom! They vanish like village witches on night shift. And the funny part? They always land like cats. No injury, just vibes.

And the reason? Subject don show. Once the math or agric teacher starts walking down the corridor with that evil look, the class will just enter silent mode — except for the one student already halfway out the window like Spider-Man on a mission.

But me sef, I used to look at them and be like, “Why are you people like this?” Until I entered senior class and life humbled me. Those subjects started looking like Greek. Not even Greek… hieroglyphics.

I didn’t jump window oh (God knows my legs no dey that flexible), but my mind used to jump every time the teacher asked for assignments. My body in class, but my soul chilling at home with noodles and cartoons.

But then — enter Literature. Sweet baby Shakespeare! That subject had me wide-eyed like a hungry goat in a yam barn. I no dey blink during literature class. One blink and you miss the metaphor, and nobody wants to be the one asking, “What’s irony again?” after everyone’s already nodding in deep understanding.

Literature unlocked my inner Shakespeare mixed with small Burna Boy. I started writing songs, planning concerts, and giving motivational speeches during morning assembly like I was running for prefect. First Tuesday of the month? Na me dey organize school hall concert like Head of Entertainment Affairs.

And honestly, imagine this life with no literature. No movies, no music, no books, no comedy skits — just pure raw silence and mathematics from Monday to Sunday. Omo, even the strongest man go cry.

No cap, literature class was my sweet escape. Some were escaping through the window, but me? I was escaping through imagination. Mic drop.