Fashion Night - By Badmus Ibrahim



There was a loud uproar and a cry of joy from us students as the principal announced that the long awaited fashion night had finally been approved by the school management. I beamed with excitement and could see the same joy radiating all over the faces of each student in the school.

Our reactions were wild like that because the issue of the fashion night had been placed to the management for over a session without response. But now, it has been granted. Even ugly students smiled and hoped to look good on the day. Fashion night, fashion night, fashion night..., the school seemed to be saying.

That night, the most handsome boy and the most beautiful girl would be announced. Students who wished to take part in the competition went ahead to register their names with the committee handling the occasion.  As a fashion plate that I am, I glared at other handsome boys in the school and grimaced with contempt. These boys can't beat me to this, I said to myself. This is a competition I've been craving to win all my life. So to make this happen, I told myself I had to engage in chest and abdominal workouts to have huge muscles as well as finely ripped abdominal rectus. I had to look really hot.

All went well until I started having injuries owing to the abnormal routine I set for my workouts. This happening, my parents banned me from doing workouts. Each time I made moves to go to the gymnasium, my mum kept reminding me about the exorbitant bill they were made to pay at the hospital to get me treated. Her yell made me sick and that's the last thing I wanted to hear. I saw that as a barrier to get what I wanted so I developed a plan. Though weird, I was sure it was going to work.

Being under tight surveillance, the only place I could possibly do my workouts was in the bathroom where no one would see me. I got two big pails and a strong pole that served as my barbell. With that and some reps of press ups, squats, knee-highs, and stretches, I was able to get enough exercise to my heart's desire.

On the D-day, I wore a nice suit over a pair of black new Italian shoes. As I walked by the hall, I could see various eyes looking in my direction. I smiled, with the belief that I looked perfectly good. But the smile was wiped out when the time came and the judges chose another boy as the winner.

"I look much better than he does. I can believe this is h...," I was lamenting when the chief judge stood up to apologise for giving a wrong judgement. He said there was a mix up in the collation of results.

After a serious re-look at the results, my name was announced as the winner. I couldn't believe my ears until I was tapped by a friend, that was when I realized it was actually happening.

That day, I earned prestige and pride. And most importantly, I got a girlfriend on that day. No matter how hard I try, I haven't been able to forget that day. It is  a day that keeps ringing in my head.




Badmus Ibrahim loves to write thrillers, crimes and sometimes drama. His educational background in English language and literature gives him a broad base from which to approach many topics in writing. He particularly enjoys writing and when he isn't writing, he's reading.

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