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Two or three of the school masters were dressed in black robes like the village priest. Some of
them also spoke in a different language which I thought was probably English. How marvellous it
would be when I could also speak English! This would be more than anyone else had achieved in
the whole of my village!
Nearly all the boys were using pens to answer the questions. Their pens were all black and beau-
tiful and appeared to be even better than that of my teacher. A thought suddenly crossed my mind
that a pencil might not be acceptable. I gathered up strength and walked towards a man that ap-
peared to be an official, and asked him if it was compulsory to use a pen. No, he said, a pencil
would be fine.
Before I looked at the examination paper, I closed my eyes, prayed for a few seconds asking God
to be on my side during the next few hours, and then crossed myself.
As soon as the final paper finished, we were told that we had to put our pens and pencils down. I
had finished all the answers and I checked everything more than once. We were told to get out of
the examination room and to return to the school grounds for the results at about four o’ clock in
the afternoon.
I walked out into the big playing yard where many boys started exchanging views about the vari-
ous questions. Some showed signs of uneasiness whenever they realised that they answered
wrongly or heaved a sigh of relief when they thought that they got the right answer.
Everybody rushed forward as the teachers appeared at the top of the stairs of the main entrance.
The results were to be announced in numerical order. The name of the boy with the highest marks
would be announced first. The first six names announced would be the lucky ones; those to win a
scholarship.
Never before had I experienced such a feeling. The next few minutes would decide whether I be-
came a clerk or a miner, whether I lived in Nicosia or in my village for the next six years, whether I
would be the same or different from the other people in my village.
There seemed to be minutes between the first and the second names; hours between the second
and the fifth;
I looked up towards God. Please God, please Jesus, please Panayia mou. Help me! I promise any-
thing you want me to promise but help me now. I crossed myself and started praying inside me.
“Our father…”
I looked at the teacher making the announcements. He did not seem to be in a hurry. He was look-
ing intensely at the list in front of him. Was I in any hurry to hear the sixth name? Not if it wasn’t
to be my name.
Like a series of shadows I saw all the events of the previous twelve months, all my efforts to pre-
pare for just this moment, for just this name that would be announced next by this man a few me-
tres away from me.
I nearly fainted! It was not to be! My name was not among the lucky ones! I turned my face away
from the building towards the forest of acacias and the huge, hazy blue mountain range in the
background many miles away. Tears started flowing copiously in my eyes.
"Number seven" he said, and then my name.
What a tragedy! Why did God abandon me? Didn't I go to Church every Sunday and on all the other
Holy days? Didn't I say my prayers at least twice a day? Didn't I ask for his help before the exami-
nations? Where did I go wrong?
I walked away in disgust, in shame, absolutely shattered. How could I face the people in my village
now? How badly I had let my parents down! They had all told me I was not good enough! Nobody
was good enough from our village to enter that world, which was so different. It looked as if the
people in that world deliberately designed it so that they would keep it to themselves. They did not
want any intruders, people that were different to themselves, people from villages like my own.
I cried when I saw the bus driver. All the passengers were seated in their seats, but he wouldn't go
until I got there. "May be it's for the best" some of the passengers said. But how could it be for the
best?
I didn't wake up until late the following afternoon. Having lost so much sleep during the previous
few days, I had to catch up.
I was determined not to face any of the other people in the village for a long time. They knew of
course, and some of them must have already started joking about my misadventure.
My biggest predicament however was how to face my father the following Saturday. He had sup-
ported my decision to try and change my destiny only because he had faith in me and now I had
betrayed that faith.
However some decision had to be made regarding my future. I would have to discuss that with my
father the following Saturday, as such a decision could not be made without consultation with him.
The number of options available to me were limited. The most obvious would be to help my mother
on our vegetable plot until a better opportunity came by.
I couldn't work at the mine as yet. I was only twelve years old; I would have to wait for at least an-
other two years for that.
There were other possibilities of course. Such as becoming an unpaid apprentice with one of our
village craftsmen: the carpenter, the builder, the cobbler, the tailor. My uncle the grocer might even
pay me a few piasters to help him at the grocery shop.
None of these options were really appealing. None of them carried the prestige of a clerk. Clerks
wore clean, beautiful clothes. Everybody went to them for advice and their opinion was always re-
spected. For to be a clerk, you had to be really clever and know about many things. In the old days,
it must have been easier for somebody to become a clerk. The old man who lent me the newspa-
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