Your expectations of how people should turn out in life, how your colleagues and friends and enemies should turn out, are merely your expectations and may remain so. Those expectations do not extend in any way to truly affect the outcome of people's lives. They may be met but it doesn't mean your expectation was a prophecy – Selorm Dogbey
Affluence, prominence, and glory. These are the topmost words to describe a gathering of old boys of a prestigious, 70-year-old institution. The students looked on in awe as the old boys arrived in the best of cars, the best of gait, and the almost unspoken contest of who showed up best was clearly louder than the school's ageless siren sound. The reeve of heavy engines, the sparkle of flashy watches on well-tendered wrists and other obviously expensive accessories, impeccable outfits, and the waft of rich scents of musk and oud were iterations of the affluence, the prominence, and glory that flooded the gates of the school. Many of the old boys were simply with joy to have seen their friends again after years, especially the 2003-year group who were the hosts of the grand celebration of the day. After about an hour of commiseration, photograph sessions on the velvet carpet, the event commenced.
Gyasi, Lancelot, and Gerald sat together in their former high school's assembly hall that Saturday afternoon. They were also part of the greetings and pleasantries of welcome outside. They were on the third row of the far-left column of the very packed auditorium. It was the 70th anniversary celebration of their most esteemed high school and as some of the prominent alumni to have come out of the school, they had to show up in all glory, representing the school in their beautifully designed shirts made from the 70th anniversary fabric. It was time to sing the school anthem before the keynote speaker came on to speak.
The three stood together, their eyes glistening with a melange of nostalgia, excitement, and pride. They grinned as they bellowed the lyrics of the ever-emotional anthem of Rand's Boys' High School. For a moment, the trio seemed to have forgotten about the contention they came to coronate today at the grand durbar. The contention? They were not giving themselves to believing who the keynote speaker was. For the three of them, they would have accepted anyone else but the kind of surprise this guest was springing up on them was too impossible.
Nurudeen Kakore Kanagbon. They knew the name. That was the name on the programme outline and on the banner as the keynote speaker. They knew the name. But there was contention, although Nurudeen was the fourth friend of the brotherhood. He was the youngest of the brotherhood. He was also the smartest when they were at Rand's. However, there was a contention. They had so many questions because they hadn't heard from Nurudeen or set eyes on him since they left Rand's about 20 years ago.
They also had questions because it was obvious then that there was barely hope for Nurudeen to move beyond where and when they last saw him 20 years ago. He was even on the scholarship of a good Samaritan while they were at Rand's. Without that kindness, Although they had promised to keep in touch, they never heard from him. So, when the announcement came that Nurudeen Kakore Kanagbon was the keynote speaker for this mega celebration, they were too stunned to accept it. While they sang, they scanned around instinctively without plan, looking forward to see Nurudeen. He was not seated with them today, like he would have been some 20 years ago. He was not standing with them to sing the anthem like they did every time at their general assemblies while Rand's Boys was their home. He was the keynote speaker for the day and definitely, he would sit at the high table if he were the keynote speaker. But was he really the keynote speaker? But where was he? Nobody at the high table looked like the Nurudeen they knew.
'I don't seem to see him anywhere on the high table,' Gyasi said in a hushed tone when they had paused for the organist to play the interlude before the last verse of the anthem. 'Or anywhere…'
'Are you people sure it is the same Nurudeen? Because I still cannot believe it would be him,' Lancelot was still in contention.
'Listen, you all come down. When this anthem is done, let's see who mounts the podium,' Gerald said to calm them down. Although he said what he said, he was still not settled within himself about the whole thing. He was not sure about the others but for him, it was their lack of ingenuity and unkindness toward Nurudeen's situation 20 years ago. None of them had even thought of him or imagined what became of him in the last 20 years.
He recalled how Lancelot for one showed some interest and wanted to speak to his parents about Nurudeen. They never reached an outcome. Gerald just kept wondering since the announcement and today, he felt a shade of guilt eclipsing his thoughts. The discomfort was the intense possibility that Nurudeen had become and that becoming was very unexpected for them. How did he make it? How is he this Nurudeen, now? How is he the more prominent one to take the stage? 'I mean no jealousy but this boy had nowhere to go and no hope for tomorrow,' Gerald intoned. 'How has he become this Nurudeen? It was impossible.'
The anthem ended with an uproar that distracted almost everyone from noticing the entourage of security and aides that walked in a file into the auditorium through the nearest entrance. Gerald noticed the entry and tapped the rest to see it too. The last but one man in the file of men, flanked by two men who were clearly security but in plain clothes, was the man they were expecting to see. Although he had grown up physically and matured like them, there was no way they would not recognise Nurudeen. The four of them were literally absent from the uproar that was blowing the roof off the hall.
The three men exchanged looks again and again, while Nurudeen and his cohort of men walked up to the stage. Nurudeen's wide and infectious smile was still his best expression when greeting everyone – and right now, he and the headmaster and the chairman of the school's governing body were in a hearty yet brief conversation. The high table was still welcoming Nurudeen. The three men were simply transfixed in a way that would intrigue anyone that was looking on.
'So, it is really Nurudeen?' Gerald found his voice.
To his surprise, there was a response to his rhetorical question, but not from Lancelot nor Gyasi.
'Yes, that is Nurudeen. I am so excited that they could get him to show up for this anniversary,' Francis Blay, another old boy who was in their year and seated on the right side of Gerald. Gerald was almost infuriated by the response because he was not expecting a response, much less from him. And he continued talking, without Gerald's permission. 'He is a very busy man, and his global impact is one that the current students and even we the alumni need to hear… I mean, you cannot fault the guy… He has defined greatness,' Francis Blay added, with this gaze fixed on Nurudeen.
Gerald looked at the others, puzzled. What was Francis Blay saying? None of them had heard about Nurudeen's exploits. Where were they? Was it that they had forgotten about him so much that they did not care to follow up on him anywhere in these internet prone times? Had they really forgotten so much? Gerald was simply in a dilemma within that short moment. He could not explain how he felt – whether worry, or sorrow, or guilt. He did not know exactly how to feel.
The audience calmed and settled. The headmaster took to the podium to acknowledge the presence of the Minister of Education, the chair of the school board, and other dignitaries. He also introduced the alumni awardees for the year. Gerald, Gyasi, and Lancelot were mentioned.
Nurudeen had barely settled into the seat at the high table when he heard three familiar names – Gyasi Addo-Nkansah, Gerald Brown, Lancelot Asamoah. He perched in his seat, stretching his neck to see if he could notice the three in the crowd. He was not sure where they were seated but their names made him smile. He hadn't heard from them or seen them since they finished Rand's. He wondered how they looked now, with a fresh memory of some of their shenanigans when they were boys. Boys of yesterday but men of today. He snapped out of his nostalgia when he heard the headmaster's introduction. He was being introduced.
'…I can keep going on and on about how this alumnus is a clear global icon, as his impact in lives and nations is matchless. He is part of the 2003 year group, our hosts. Distinguished guests, old boys of Rand's Boys, ladies and gentlemen, students, with a standing ovation…'
Nurudeen heard his name and flashed a smile. He walked up to the podium and he was surprised that the augustness of the audience made him shrug nervously. He never imagined reaching this point of glory – that one day he would be the one to speak at the platinum anniversary of this prestigious school. The applause were still resounding. He was Nurudeen Kakore Kanagbon – the renowned scientist and strategist whose work and research had facilitated groundbreaking projects for the United Nations, the United States, the World Health Organisation, the European Union, making him an icon globally. He held the smile and lifted his hand to drown the applause. He had arrived. The boy of yesterday was a man now, and he felt the surge of emotions that satisfactorily sealed the accomplishment.
With a turn of his gaze to the left side, he saw them – his friends. He smiled at the three and saluted them. They smiled back but Nurudeen saw their surprise. Yes, they did not expect this. Life happens.
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