Autograph page…………………………………………………..Page 4
My Teachers………………………………………..Page 8
My Friends……………………………………..Page 9
Getting to know CIS………………………………………………………….Page 14
Year 1………………………………………………………………Page 15
Year 2…………………………………………………………Page 19
Year 3, 4 and 5……………………………………………………………..Page 24
And finally, Year 6……………………………………………………….Page 32
What I want Year 7 to be like………………………………………..Page 46
My achievements……………………………………….Page 47
Without You………………………………………………………..Page 48
Simply CIS…………………………………………………….Page 49
Ona–Chelsea is an excellent writer and very creative person.
Ife–Chelsea, you are a great writer. Your books are always interesting and really detailed and I realised you love reading, and that will even make you a better writer.
Ugo–You are a nice girl.
Richie (or Richmond)–Chelsea is a very great author and great dancer, sprinter and singer; you are a wonderful and professional Artist.
Veer–You are a fun-loving, hardworking, generous friend who writes amazing stories, and draws like a pro. You have been an amazing leader and I will never forget how kind you have been. I will miss you in Year 7.
Kevwe–Chelsea, you write wonderful stories.
Vincenzo–Chelsea, you are a great story writer and awesome drawer. You and me share many of the same amazing interests!
Joshua–You are every kind of friend I could imagine.
Sopriala–Chelsea is an amazing artist and an amazing friend.
Amal–Chelsea is an inspiration!!!
Chantel–You have a great talent in art; you’re phenominal in art and you have a great personality. Besides being good at art you’re very smart and have a great singing voice.
Unique–You are an amazing drawer who is responsible, caring and respectful; you always do your best to become the best you can be and you have a strong commitment to finishing tasks given to you.
Adebare–You are an excellent storyteller and your creative ideas should be help for any famous author. Your jokes are always the best way to improve mine.
Sion–Chelsea you are the most positive person I have ever met. And your other talents are amazing too: art, writing stories, doing the right things at the right time; e.t.c. I hope you have a good time in senior school.
Khanak–Chelsea you are a great friend who is always ready to face challenges and overcome them. You are also a great writer, artist, singer and a fairly good leader. Just remember “If you can dream it, you can do it.”–Walt Disney.
Chukwuemeka–You are very smart.
Mrs. Dosunmu–Chelsea, you’re an epitome of a kind of to have! You’re responsible, dependable, trustworthy, respectful, valuable and caring. You’re focused, determined an energised! I really have learnt from you and I can only wish you greater years ahead!
Year 1: Ms. Adaramola
Year 2: Mrs. Abor
Year 3: Mrs. Hampton
Year 4: Ms. Ojeiku
Year 5: Ms. Animasaun
Year 6: Mrs. Dosunmu
Ona, Dorian, Adebare, Khanak, Morenike A.K., Morenike A.Y.,
Zara, Sion, Unique, Chantel, Kiki, Kevwe, Joshua,
Odinyaka, Ayomide, Richmond, Azaria, Nowethu,
And so many others!
Hi! My name is Chelsea, and I want to tell you about my life in CIS so far.
We had just relocated to Lagos (from Port Harcourt) and moved into a giant Deluxe house. It reminded me of those lovely Roman villas, so it was good for me.
My parents told me I was going to a new school, so I wouldn’t see my old friends Viano and Zara Ojiako for a while. When my mother walked me up there, I saw pretty posters and busy teachers and fun new friends. Sure, I was a bit… apprehensiv, but I managed to make my classmates happy and make new friends, like Ona and Morenike. And my teacher was fun too: she was Mrs. Abor.
In Year 1, I did feel a little left out because I didn’t know anybody. In fact, I will tell you my exact thoughts at that moment: ‘Will they like me? Will I make them smile? Will they like me as a friend?’ Thinking about this really made me miss my old friends, and I wanted to go home.
The school itself was terrifying, and since it was for the younger stages, it was quite small, as the rest of the school was in a building across the road: it was like a school on stilts as the iron steps held it high in the sky. As you walked upon it, you could hear the creek, creek of the building, and when you got to the top, you would feel as if you were falling–the school and you with it.
But suddenly, someone came up to me, and since it was such a long time ago I couldn’t remember who it was. Despite that, the person said they wanted to play with me, and I knew what exactly was going on: I had made a new friend.
Back then I was a troublesome kid; I followed trouble and it always followed me. I felt like my friends were going to slip away, but I found new ones–and they just happened to be boys! And even though a lot of them were boys, I can only remember one, and that’s Adebare. He was nice, funny, and had a serious case of ADHD, but he was still okay–for a boy. =)
During the second and last term, I was learning a lot in CIS, and I felt comfortable in the school. Most of the time, I forgot
about my old Port Harcourt friends, because I had good ones right here in CIS.
And here’s a quite terrifying but funny story that happened to me when I was in Year 1. We were singing a song in the Assembly Hall, as we always did, when I said I had to go to the bathroom.
Usually, the bathrooms in our lower key stage classes was quite frankly a room separated by a thin wall (for boys and girls), so you couldn’t exactly call it eavesdropping. The stalls, from bird’s eye view, was a rectangle divided into three stalls where we had to go three at a time, and if they were full you had to wait. However, the bathroom in the main school building at that time was small; even smaller than our classes’ restrooms. And so I went there. I believe I must have walked into the first stall. The stall doors where a rich beige colour that I didn’t really like. The handle and the lock looked really old and charred black, as if someone had burnt them. Anyway, after I was done “doing my business”, I tried to open the door, but it was stuck. Trying hard not to panic I pushed and pulled with all my might, trying to get the doors open. That didn’t work. I panicked. I started screaming as loud as I could, in hope that the others would hear me and try to open the door from the outside. I waited. No one came. Looking for another way out, I climbed the toilet seat and gripped onto the side door of the stall. I figured that I could climb up there and jump outside, freeing myself from that prison,
but that was a failure too. Crying to myself, I thought I would be trapped in the bathroom forever; counting the days till my skin faded to nothingness, leaving nothing but my thin bones in the same stall for many years to come. Thinking of another idea, I knelt down and gripped at the bottom of the stall door, and as it creaked open, I bounded with excitement: I was free.
That’s a story in Year 1 I will never forget. And now…for Year 2…
Year 2 was also a breeze. During the third term, people were in a buzz about the new school building. Rumors spread about the old school–including the rickety lower key stage building across the road–as fast as an infection, and the people in my class huddle around together talking about what the new school would be like.
“I heard it was huge!” said one classmate.
“I could see it from here,” squealed another. “It smells bad!”
I, on the other hand, sat quietly, drawing, as I always did. Even though I didn’t chat as much as my classmates did, I was still listening attentively to their conversation. While they were talking and playing, I sat at my desk, when our teacher burst in. She told us that we were going to see the new school building. I couldn’t wait!
My classmates were right–it was enormous!
Reaching an astounding height, the building nearly scraped the clouds off the sky, and I bet if you stood on the roof (which by the way they had not finished), you could feel the softness of those floating fluffy sheepy looking clouds in the air. I could hear various noises around the building: the click-clack, bang-bang, ring-a-ding, clink-clink, whirring, buzzing, chatting, screaming, and especially hammering; all coincidentally joined to make the music of our new school. I could see the support beams keeping the balance of our school as we walked inside.
Inside, (if there was an inside when they were building it) I saw bleak and barren and empty rooms at my left and right. I saw as construction workers painted the walls thickly with paint–it was a creamy white colour that reminded me of vanilla ice cream, so I liked that, too.
Suddenly, something in the air reeked of cow manure. “What’s that?” I asked, scrunching up my nose. Our Year two teacher, Mrs. Abor explained to us that
the workers used cow dung to help the plants grow. I found that very confusing!
A few months later, we were out of the old school building (goodness knows what’s happened to it…) and in the new one. And that’s when I started Year 3…
It was quite challenging from Year Three upward. I always felt like a stick in the mud; left out and alone. I didn’t mind though. At that time, I said to myself: “Friends aren’t everything. I can do well on my own.” And that’s just what I did. For three years I played alone, ate alone and even read alone. I didn’t even feel sad in the slightest bit.
The teachers, however, I seemed to feel like they didn’t understand me. In Year 3, I was blocking out the noisy class when Mrs. Hampton thought I was not listening. I wanted to explain that I didn’t want to hear my classmates scream and shout, but I’ve always felt like adults don’t listen to children, so I kept my mouth shut. And during third term, Mrs. Ibukun said that since I didn’t do my spellings at home, I couldn’t play at Golden Time in school. Most times I wish that I had magical powers so people could let me do whatever I wanted. But that will never happen. During that time it was Diversity Day, and my vision was all blurry from my tears as I stayed grouchy for the rest of the day.
And during Year 4, I got shouted at for not closing a book I was reading during the lesson. What’s wrong with a little reading? I asked myself, but Ms. Ojeiku had already whisked the book away from my hands. She put it on her desk, and there it stayed until it was the end of the school year! You should know that for two terms, I was abroad at another school.
My teacher in Year 5 was Miss Animasaun. She was always doing her hair pretty every time she walked into the class, and I wondered, “How does someone change their hair every day? Do they stay up all night?” It really confused me!
There were desks now; no more chair bags. I had to put my name on my books and table like I have always done for the past four years. During the first term, we were talking about the body and ancient civilizations. Last year, there was a science experiment, but we didn’t do that in Year 5.
Student Council memberships were coming up, and I wanted to be a part of it. As far as I know, there are two main children Authorities: Student Council (run by kids) and the prefects (run by kids–and also sometimes teachers). I didn’t want to wait a full year before I became a prefect! It had to be Student Council this year! It couldn’t wait!
So that’s how it went: I gave a speech; I voted (for someone besides me), and waited. When the results came in, I nearly fainted with surprise when I discovered that nobody voted for me! I was beyond upset! My friend Michael told me that it didn’t matter, and as much as I wanted to protest, I kept quiet. I guess I did have to wait until next year after all…
I can’t believe time has gone so quickly! I’m already a prefect in Year 6 and I”m already writing about the wonderful experiences I’ve had…
Crazy Hair Day was the best! We dyed our hair, put on wigs, made it go all the way up, and even stuck things into it! And then we had a little fashion line kind of thing. It was like a runway in the middle of screaming children on the ground floor, the first floor and the second.
We also made our socks silly, stuffing them with balls and wearing multiple socks.
Swimming Gala was fun too! Even though I was really scared, I did it! I couldn’t swim without coming up for fresh air, and I’ve always been doing that as long as I have been in the water.
I do not know who won because I left before the Gala finished. I just know that it was a whole lot of fun!!!
Our assembly was about the heart, its four chambers, and blood components. I was a red blood cell, there were white blood cells, plasma, and platelets. We also did Haikus (Japanese poems) on our components. Let me give you an example of a haiku:
The autumn leaves dance;
Falling from the trees up high;
Resting on the ground.
Haikus have to have 17 syllables: five for the first line, seven for the second and five again for the third.
Diversity day in Year 6 was such fun! We all dressed up in traditional costumes, and brought traditional food. It was fun to see everyone show that they care about their religions!
During first terms, we did a lot of science and math experiments. For the math, it was about measuring places around the school. And for science, it was about habitats, like the rain forest.
In Year 7, I want to be part of the choir, and I want to get higher levels in all subjects, like it says on the CAT tests.
I want to be brave enough to reason in math and solve hard equations. I want to do well in my exams and just be the best of myself. That’s what I want Year 7 to be like. 🙂
Would it be the same,
Licking ice-cream alone,
With no one to munch the cone,
Would it be great,
And arguing who’s best,
Would it be nice,
To move up another grade,
And talk about the previous memories we’ve made?
It wasn’t just the building, because we moved buildings. It wasn’t just the facilities because they kept replacing them. It wasn’t just the students because many have come and gone.
It wasn’t just about the care, nurture and patience of Mrs. Adaramola in Year 1, Mrs. Abor in Year 2 and Mrs. Hampton in Year 3. It was certainly more than the desire, diligence and discipline of Ms. Ojeiku in Year 4, Miss Animasaun in Year 5 and Mrs. Dosunmu in Year 6. And no, it wasn’t just about the guidance and fatherly figure of Mr. Mark or the attention or the firmness of Mrs. Isa.
It was the combination of all these, happening in the exact moments they did and working together seamlessly, to give me the beautiful experience that is the story of my CIS primary school life.
So I am thankful to God for giving me life, grateful to my parents for insisting on what is important and I am glad for all the beautiful people that have made my experiences here possible.
And it’s not goodbyes just yet. I am happy to change uniforms and do this all over again, only as a Secondary School pupil.
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