The Sweater And The Stand
883 Words
Third term.
Tension was high.
And Ether was carrying too much on his head.
Ether had one sweater.
Old. Big. Turtle neck. Bigger than him.
It looked weird on him. Made him look smaller and older at the same time.
But he wore it almost every cold morning.
Because his grandma gave it to him.
"Wear this when the world gets too cold, my son," she had said 3 years ago before he left for Ogunmakin.
His grandparents were still alive. Far away in the village.
But the sweater reminded him of her advice.
"Be good, even when nobody is watching. Be strong, even when you’re bleeding."
Students laughed at it.
"Guy, that sweater don dey since 1990."
Teachers didn’t like it. "It’s not part of the uniform."
Ether didn’t care.
It was his armor.
People thought Ether was just bold and brilliant.
They didn’t know the other part.
The part that was born in Ogunmakin.
The part that had fought real street battles.
There was a time his football team went for a match in a nearby town.
On their way back, thugs stopped the bus.
Cutlasses. Axes. Sticks.
Ether called one person.
His cousin. Rugged.
10 minutes later, his cousin came with 4 guys.
What happened after was not a fight. It was survival.
Some boys were cut.
Ether? He came home with bruises and a torn shirt.
He treated it himself. Always.
No hospital. No complaints.
"Don’t let them see you weak," his grandma’s voice in his head.
That was the dark side he kept locked.
Until he had to use it.
One Monday morning, Ether wasn’t feeling too well.
Cold was in his body. Headache.
But he still came to assembly.
And he wore the sweater.
Mrs. Odetola, the disciplined Fishery teacher, had warned him the day before.
"Ether, remove that sweater tomorrow."
"I’m feeling cold, ma," he had said.
She didn’t care.
Now on assembly, she was walking around the lines.
"Tuck in! Remove cardigan! Remove sweater!"
She got to SSS2 Art line.
Stopped in front of Ether.
"Off that sweater," she said sharply.
Ether took a deep breath.
His nerves were already bad.
"I can’t take it off, ma," he said firmly.
"I’m sick."
The whole assembly went quiet.
Students turned.
Because Ether had never challenged a teacher like this. Openly.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Odetola’s voice rose.
"I said I can’t take it off, ma. I’m not feeling well."
His voice was calm. But firm.
Teachers started moving.
"Is that how you talk to a teacher?"
"Remove it now!"
"Disrespectful boy!"
Even the Principal came down from the stage.
But Ether stood his ground.
Still didn’t remove it.
His hands were shaking inside the sweater. Not from fear. From anger. From being tired.
When he saw the accusations were getting out of hand and he was about to lose his temper,
he exhaled.
"Okay, ma."
They told him to kneel at the back of the assembly ground.
He did.
Head down. Sweater still on.
The assembly scattered.
No more speeches. No more announcements.
Students were sent to class confused.
Mrs. Odetola asked for a parent’s number.
Ether didn’t give the number of the house he was living in.
He gave his Aunty’s number.
2 hours later, his Aunty walked into the Principal’s office.
Tall woman. Sharp eyes. Mouth that didn’t waste words.
She listened to everything.
Then she looked at all the teachers and said:
"My nephew is sick. And he told you.
Instead of sending him to the sick bay, you’re embarrassing him in the sun.
Don’t ever mess with him again. If he’s wrong, call me.
But don’t bully him."
She didn’t shout.
She didn’t beg.
She just warned them.
And walked out with Ether.
From that day, teachers feared Ether more.
Because if the boy was this fearless...
his people were worse.
And the strangest part?
Ether wasn’t punished.
No suspension. No manual labor.
If it was any other student, it would have been 2 weeks suspension.
Students were shocked.
"Guy, how?"
Ether just shrugged.
Respect went up.
Hate also went up.
Teachers who liked him, liked him more.
Teachers who hated him, hated him more.
Students in SSS2 Art said, "He thinks he’s the principal."
Juniors greeted him from far.
Seniors stopped looking him in the eye.
But school dramas didn’t stop.
Memunat became more clingy after that day.
"You should have told me you were sick."
Fanny brought him ginger and honey the next day.
"For your cold."
Victoria called. "Bro, don’t fight again o."
And Aminat?
She sent him a text from home.
"I heard. Take care of yourself, Ether. Don’t let them break you."
He didn’t reply for 2 days.
His love life was still a mess.
Too close to Memunat.
Too respectful with Fanny.
Too far from Aminat.
Too calm with Sekinat.
And at home? Same.
That night, Ether sat in his corner.
The big sweater on his lap.
He touched the wool.
He could almost hear his grandma.
"Stand for what is right, even if you’re standing alone."
He smiled a little.
School thought they had seen the worst of him.
They hadn’t.
But they also hadn’t seen the best.
Because under all the boldness, the fights, the fear...
Ether was just a 19-year-old boy trying to survive.
- Writer
