My boys have in recent weeks been discussing the new students who joined their classes at the start of the term. Some of the newcomers have transferred from other schools while the rest have repeated classes.

From my boys’ discussions, I gather that the newcomers are quite a sensation.

A few days ago, I listened with amusement as Jimmy talked of Daphne, the new girl in his class. He described her as the most eccentric and self-absorbed creature he had ever met.

“That girl doesn’t speak to anyone. She doesn’t say hello, doesn’t contribute in class and walks to school on her own,” he said.

Apparently, Daphne has severed ties with fellow classmates, whom she feels are below her class.

Russell then told of his classmate Shiro, who has characteristics similar to those of Daphne.

Despite being stunningly pretty, boys avoid Shiro because it is clear that she would not date a hustler even if the president ordered it.

She spends much of her free time primping her nails and eyelashes, and she even reports to class late in order to avoid mingling with the peons.

“She only mingles with us during times of emergency, such as the day before a math examination,” Russell remarked with a grin. In the same class is a new girl nicknamed Kimbelembele.

Russell dismissed as a self-worshipping, pompous braggart who pretends to know more than everybody else, yet she performs poorly in examinations.

“She keeps bragging of her family’s wealth, what she did over the weekend or about her awesome uncle in America,” he ranted.

Jimmy then switched to a boy named Simon, whom he termed the teachers’ pet. Simon is the genius in Jimmy’s class, a talented whiz kid whose sheer brainpower puts him above the rest.

He raises his hand at every question, gets top marks and dismisses a ninety per cent score in math as nothing to brag about.

“I wish I had a brain like Simon’s,” he exclaimed, before sensationally adding that Simon’s exam papers bear a striking resemblance to the marking scheme. He then described a few other classmates.

Among them was one nerd, one class clown, an elusive girl whom every boy wants to date, a child who is ever late and an absent-minded fellow who  sleeps through most lessons.

In Russell’s class is one tomboy, one wannabe rapper, a well-known thief, a few slow learners and one loudmouth who loves to talk simply because he loves the sound of his voice.

Listening to this conversation reminded me of my former classmates. Among my favourite classmates were the backbenchers. This was the herd of carefree boys who liked to sit behind everyone else, and who seemed to attract trouble at every turn. They would crack jokes about everyone, mock the prefect and feature in every noisemakers’ list.

Despite their bad boy reputation, and despite the fact that most of them would fail every examination, girls were known to secretly admire them.

Next was the class mole; a sly and manipulative wiseacre who seemed to know everything about everyone, including some of your most guarded secrets.

Moles would craftily snoop into conversations and then leak your gossip to the nearest teacher.

As a result, a mole enjoyed favours from the school’s administration, and were untouchable.

Even the toughest of bullies knew better than to cross a mole’s line.

My class also had a Mama’s boy known as Benjamin.

He was a disciplined soul who never engaged in mischief, although it is important to note that he hardly excelled in sports or other extra-curricular activities.

He maintained his Mama’s boy image throughout our days in school, despite being dismissed as a pansy by the bigger boys.

Anyway, my boys discussed their classmates at length until dinnertime, after which they switched to other topics.

Apparently, there are characters that are present in every class.