Freaky Friday

There was this silence on campus. It felt like the walls themselves had gone home for the holidays as well.

My final year first semester had come to a close and while everyone else had packed up and left, I remained in school. My project was a surmounting mountain and it wasn’t going to sort itself out. The hostel felt so abandoned. There was no power and no noise. It was just me, my phone, and a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the reading table.

I was seriously stuck in a TikTok rabbit hole when a notification from WhatsApp jerked me back to reality. It was from my class group chat.

“It’s Freaky Friday guys, would it hurt to have some fun?"

I blinked at the screen. Like twice.

The message came from Amaka.

Amaka?

Amaka, the girl who practically dissolved into the walls during lectures. The same girl who never spoke in class unless she was called upon, and even when she spoke, her voice came out like a whisper wrapped in sore apology.

I stared at the message again.

There was a streak of laughing emojis and shocked GIFs that followed almost instantly. People were hyping her up, calling it her revealing moment. Some said she had finally gotten out of her shell. But there was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. My fingers hovered over my keyboard. I swear, I could’ve said something or even tried to ask a question. But no. Instead, I did what I always did when things just didn’t make sense at all; I pulled back.

I smelled a rat and it was very loud.

And so, I rolled over, plugged in my dying phone, and went to sleep.

The following morning, by 8. a.m. my phone was a battlefield. I was seeing over 400 unread messages.

Curiosity filled my head and I kind of felt half-panicked. I clicked open the class group chat. Apparently, after the initial message, someone had dropped a link to an external anonymous chat platform and that was the spark that set everything off. A place to safely vent all your concerns, emotions and thoughts.
At first, it was very harmless as people just threw light jabs at lecturers, airing petty grievances.

But slowly and slowly everything turned dark so fast.

With every screenshot, I got to understand at what length the class had gotten; accusations of students bribing their way through exams, and students who slept with lecturers for grades. Names were dropped without shame and deeply personal secrets were exposed without restraints. It was as wild as a wild fire. Worse still, people were busy reacting to the anonymous posts; laughing, dropping sarcastic comments and even making sure to encourage more drama.

I quickly rushed to my tight-knit friendship group and broke the news to them. I was so happy they seemed oblivious to the whole thing. I spilled everything. They were so shocked and grateful they had missed the whole fiasco. But the peace didn’t last long.

By that evening, the news had already reached the HOD(Head of Department)

The whole group chat was filled with tension and panic. People started deleting their comments while some left the group entirely. Some even begged the group admins to shut it down. But it was already too late.

Screenshots of the wild game had already been forwarded. Several names were matched with reactions. Anyone who in as much laughed, commented, or even participated was tagged a suspect.

Within 48 hours, the departmental office had released a circular. “All students involved in the anonymous defamation chat are to report to the department for disciplinary review.” My heart dropped.

People I held dear, close friends and even seat mates were suspended. Rumors were flying everywhere. Everyone was speculating here and there. The word “expulsion” was even thrown around carelessly.

The class rep, Daniel, decided to step in. He launched a private investigation. Talking to people, making it look like innocent conversation, comparing timestamps and trying to verify who said what.

And that’s when the truth broke out.

It was Amaka. Why was I not even that surprised?
She had posted the “Freaky Friday” message and also shared the anonymous chat link. She was also the one who compiled the screenshots and reported the entire thing to the HOD.

It turns out, she had been sent on a mission by one of the senior lecturers.

He had tasked her to bait the class. He wanted to see who was bold enough to speak ill of the department. She had been promised favors and even a scholarship, if she delivered.

But unfortunately, the trap caught more than just the intended targets.

Some people had laughed without even understanding the weight of what was going on. Some had commented carelessly. But at that point, all that didn’t matter. They were all caught in the same web.

The final verdict came three weeks later.
Every student who participated in the anonymous chat was suspended for one semester. But those who posted allegations without proof or called out names were given an extra year. A whole year.

It broke most of the class members. I saw it in their eyes. Some wouldn’t even be coming back.

I never spoke to Amaka again. We rarely spoke anyway.

She walked past me once on the faculty stairs, her face blank and so unbothered. As if nothing had happened.

I wish I could say people learned their lesson. But the truth is that university was a game, and some people just played it dirtier.

But I'm thankful that I trusted my gut, and stayed out.

Sometimes, smelling a rat is the only thing that saves you from the trap.

All images are from my phone.
Thanks for stopping by my blog💕