After a few minutes, I received text messages, twitter messages and a phone call from my cousin all telling me that the school was totally destroyed. It was just then that I decided (reluctantly) to have a look for myself.
The high school is inside a small compound which it shares with the elementary school and is adjacent to the church we go to. When I got there, the fire was already under control although there was still thick smoke coming from one portion of the compound. Fire engines and onlookers were in the street.
From the gate, I saw that the structure of the school was still standing but the walls of the rooms on the 2nd floor were blackened and the roof appeared to have partially collapsed.
It was only when I got a closer look that I saw that although you couldn’t say the school was burned to the ground, the fire had almost totally damaged it and it looks as if it has to be torn down instead of being repaired before it can be used again.
What was I supposed to feel in a moment like this? Of course I definitely didn’t feel good, but I wasn’t shocked or uneasy. I had been a student here for 4 years, 10 if you include elementary years. On a positive note, no one was harmed (as far as I know) and finally the long overdue plans to renovate the school structures could start, whether planned or not.
