The govern’s son.

At that time, I was called "the ndon-ga" because of my pride, the influence I had, and the lack of emotions in me.My family was very poor at the time, so I didn't have doughnut money like my friends, I didn't have pocket money to afford what every girl should have at a certain age.All I had was my charisma, my pride and my influence that I decided to use to get back at this injustice that life had done me.     At the age of sixteen, I was in high school in Douala with my friends.We went through sixth, fourth, third and then second grade together and we weren't about to part ways.     One day during recess, they went to the canteen to buy food and as I had nothing as usual, I stood in front of the window and an idea came into my head while I was looking at a little girl who seemed to be rich: she had a big pink bag with a new outfit and rasta (braids with locks) on her head, but it was forbidden at school. But hey, corrupt

It had been two weeks since I was whipped with the baton, but I was still in pain and had scars on my body.I had to hide them so my parents wouldn't find out. If they knew what I had done, they would have punished me!Luckily, the governor's son didn't have the sense to knock on the door and tell them.Besides, why had I brought her to my house instead of asking her to park in front of another house? But then, I hadn't thought about it.     Jessy and Patrick went on vacation the next day after the report cards were handed in.I stayed with my parents to help them with everything. I didn't tell my friends anything about what happened except that it was a misunderstanding and that the governor's son had mistaken me for someone else.I was a little ashamed to tell them that I had been beaten up when they knew I was a strong girl.     Sometimes I thought about Ariel, the governor's son. I would think about w