Speech and prize giving ceremony.

It happened in July, 2001. A speech and prize giving day that I will never forget. Whenever I reminisce about the fond memories, I would smile.

My secondary school was a newly established private school. Being the first set of students and the only set as of then, the proprietor organized a speech and prize giving ceremony.

Both of my parents graced the ceremony.

When it comes to being supportive, my parents were the best. They could go to any length to support my siblings and I.

In that ceremony, a drama was performed by a group of students which I was part of. I played the role of a herbalist and I needed to wear agbada (African male regalia). My father proudly gave me one of the most quality agbada in his wardrobe. I could see the reaction of the audience when a 12 years old me entered the stage with the oversized agbada. Looking through the audience, I saw my father smiling where he was seated. His face exuded fulfillment. My mother, from her own seat, led others to clap for me for every role that I played in the drama.

At one point, the audience would come one after the other to spray us money. People were stunned at how my father sprayed me with different denominations of naira. He put in every ounce of energy to celebrate with me.

After the drama and a few cultural displays, it got to the time of the main activity for the day which was giving prizes to the best students in each of the twelve subjects that we offered. The best student in each subject, when called, would go to the podium with his parents or guardian to take photographs and collect the prize.

The first subject to be called was mathematics. My name was called to climb the podium with my parents to collect the prize. We went to the podium with the whole audience applauding us with claps as we stepped into the podium. The best student in the English language followed and I was called out to claim the prize too. For the first six subjects that were called that day, I collected the prizes for the first position in all. In the seventh subject , I clinched the second position.

At the end of the prize giving ceremony, I clinched first position in 9 out of the twelve subjects.

At the peak of the repeated calling of my name, a parent sitting next to my father jokingly asked him if he wasn't tired of going to the podium repeatedly. My father responded that he loved going to the podium a thousand times if necessary. They both laughed over it.

The attention of everyone in the hall was on me till the end of the ceremony.

On our way outside the event's hall, I sighted the father of my classmate beating him outside. My father and other parents went to pacify the man to forgive the boy for whatever wrong he had done. When asked of his son's offense, the man was reprimanding the boy for not coming out as the best in any subject particularly Yoruba language.

"An Ebira boy came all the way from Okene to come and clinch first position in your indigenous language," the man complained bitterly.

My parents hailed from Ebira speaking area of Kogi State but had been in Ekiti state which is Yoruba speaking state for almost two decades. I was born in the town.

My classmate's father was angry that a foreigner came and took first position in their indigenous language. My father and other parents pleaded with him to forgive the boy and encourage him to do better the next term.

The experience is evergreen in my memory.

Years later, I was honored by the university for graduating top of my class. Unfortunately, my father had died four years earlier and the journey from home to my university was too far for my mother to witness.

Whenever I remember the speech and prize giving ceremony, it makes me reflect on the love that my father had for me.