Form Three started fast.
Teachers no longer smiled.
No latecomers were spared.
And the mock exams calendar was already on the board by the second week.
Kingstar sat in class, focused.
No distractions. No back and forth.
He didn't even join the choir again not yet.
But something unexpected started.
One Saturday evening, while solving past questions under the mango tree near the science lab, a shy Form One boy approached.
"Senior King… please, can you help me understand this maths?"
Kingstar nodded. One question turned to three.
Three turned to ten.
The boy came again the next day… and brought a friend.
By the next weekend, four juniors were sitting around him with their own books.
"I'm not a teacher ooo," Kingstar would laugh.
But they listened because he made the hard things sound simple.
Soon, the juniors started bringing him food from dining and even tucked biscuits in his locker.
"Small appreciation, Senior."
Some gave coins.
One gave a pack of pens.
At night, while others played or argued about dorm gossip, Kingstar had earned something bigger:
Respect.
Not just from juniors.
Even seniors began asking:
"Bro, you get the solution for this quadratic?"
One evening, the Head Prefect walked past and saw him under the light, surrounded by juniors.
He paused, smiled, and said:
"Keep it up. The school needs more like you."
It wasn't fame.
It wasn't prefect badge.
But it was influence real influence.
And most importantly, it gave him purpose.
Because the more he taught, the more he understood his own lessons better.
And slowly, without even planning it, he began preparing for WASSCE in a way that mattered.