Why Do Murderers Set WAEC's Mathematics Questions?

I remember the day I sat for my WASSCE's Maths exam some years back. I was prepared, a little bit skeptical, unusually calm, and not hungry. It was the first of the papers I wrote that I didn't feel intense hunger before the exams. I usually binge on food before entering the exam hall in a bid to calm myself and put my anxiety under control. 

When the invigilator came, he wore a mean, sadistic, and terrorizing face. Not that I care about his expressions but I know how difficult it is to pass Maths and English examinations in WASSCE, so I do not want someone who will destabilise me to the core.

He was in company of six others who I believed were teachers in that particular school that served as my exam venue. I remember I wore a small blue shirt and baggy trousers, my mathematical set contained all I needed for the exam, the bridge of my nose held my glasses and I tried to remember as many as possible formulas.

My only problem was my seat partner. Elizabeth is a disturbance. A prototype of pests in human form. 

Eliza can call your name a hundred time in 30 minutes, she's naturally a dull head - I won't say she's dumb because she's actually smart in other ways, but when it comes to sitting for exams and writing from your head, Eliza won't even make it to the bottom of the list. Eliza, my fine, yellow Anambra pawpaw in Lagos sitting for this WAEC the fourth time. 

I knew Maths is a bit of a problem for me. From secondary school I've always struggled with it, I don't like how annoying and frustrating those calculations are, I practically removed further mathematics from the list of courses I'll offer right from my first day in science class. Not that I'm lazy, or struggling, I just don't find complex calculations interesting. So I already knew my problem and I developed a way to tackle it. 

One hour gone into my maths exam, I sweated and swore for those who set the questions, I cried silently as we were told to submit the Objectives — not because I did not do it well, but because I imagined how hard the theory would be if objectives could be this nerve wreaking. 

My palms were sweaty and my beautiful handwriting almost head toward doctor's prescription type. 

Yet, as I battle this monster of an exam, I noticed how calm and collected Eliza was that day. She did not really pay attention to my side, she did not fully concentrate on her exam. I was surprised but I did not say a word. Eliza did guess work all through the objectives, yet she was not bothered. Her babaláwo juju must really be potent. 

As soon as the invigilator finished supervising the sharing of the theory parts, he moved to other halls. 

That was when this lanky man came in. He wore a shirt so big that he fold the sleeves, his trousers were above his navel region and still swept the floor, although he kept some beards, they were not really that appealing, and his words came out crooked. Immediately he came in, some students started murmuring. 

This man calmed them down, promised them that they will still score A1 in maths and despite failure to supply them answers for the objective parts, he'd ensure the 'experts' quickly solve the theory questions and be back with photocopied answers in less than 30 minutes. I watched the big smile crawl on Eliza's face. Her already tensed self became calm and nod her head like a female lizard. 

Truly this man came back, distributed the answers to only those that paid the 5k for Maths and English expo. We who did not have a shilling to spare were not even favoured. I was already tensed too, I cannot afford to fail this WAEC else that'll be the end of my academic journey. But trust me, I was quick to make a good impression on Eliza.

Because of how slow Eliza was at writing, she gave me her expo to quickly copy while she took her time to legibly write hers in a slow manner, else she copied nonsense. I was not hesitant, I did not even blink or remember that I was about to cheat which is illegal, I told myself after this exam I'll go to mosque and pray for forgiveness. I quickly collected the sheet and scanned through the prepared answers.

Surprisingly, most of the solved answers were damn wrong. Even if I was in SS1, I won't still believe those answers were right. Out of over 13 solved answers, I could only with enough assurance say just 6 or 7 were correct. Others had mumbled steps, wrong diagram, miscalculated results, and switched formulas. 

I told Eliza but she gave me that mind-your-business stare. Plus the expo wasn't even mine and I still had the temerity to correct the answers.

I quickly dubbed the ones I believed were well solved, plus the ones I've done earlier and those that simple mistakes made them wrong. I was fast, less sweaty and at intervals watched my corners else I got caught and be told to rewrite the exam another year. 

When Eliza started dubbing, she did not care. She wrote everything word for word, almost with the same calligraphy style of the 'experts' who prepared it.

She was smart enough to hide the answers right inside her pant when the invigilator came in. The man came to my side, took my scripts scanned it and compared with Eliza's own, I was afraid, already jittery, and my heart pound right in my mouth, I quickly pretended that I had a mild headache, I swore never to cheat in an exam again, at least not with someone big yet inexperienced like Eliza. 

I watched the man tear more than seven scripts for malpractice. I quickly adjusted my glasses whilst I focused on perfecting all I've written when he gave my booklet back.

I worked on canceling legibly, wrote 'divide both sides by two' properly, even explained my steps just in case it was a sadist or mental degenerate that wants to mark my scripts.

People of the lord when the result came out few months later, WAEC gave me B3. Four days later when I would see Eliza's update on Facebook, she asked about a University in Nigeria where one can  study Medicine and Surgery with E8 in Maths and D7 English, stressing the fact that she had B2 in Biology, Chemistry and A1 in Physics.

© Ololade Edun (Ololade Writes).