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EXETER FEATURE TO THE TKTKTK CORE ∙ ∙ROOTS FEATURE OF DISCOVERY TKTKTK ∙ FEATURE ∙ AGAINST TKTKTK THE GRIND SEASON SPRING 2026 YEAR

ALWAYS AN EXONIAN

BILL RAWSON RETIRES AFTER EIGHT YEARS AS PRINCIPAL P. 30

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Story Title2026 P. xx SPRING

SPRING 2026 / CONTENTS

FEATURES

Exeter to the Core

As a student, a trustee and — for the last eight years — principal, Bill Rawson has lived and led by the Academy’s fundamental values. Sarah Pruitt ’95

Roots of Discovery

Biologist Toby Kiers ’94 was named a 2025 MacArthur Fellow and awarded the 2026 Tyler Prize for environmental achievement for her work on mycorrhizal fungi. P. 38

“ I don’t want to pathologize the kids just because they grew up with technology. Let’s not shame them for that, but let’s educate them about how to navigate it.”

Against the Grind

From silent classrooms to phone-free Fridays, Exeter is helping students rebuild focus in an age of perpetual digital distraction. Benjamin Cassidy

Szu-Hui Lee, director of Counseling and Psychological Services, p. 44

Cover: Photography by Tom Kates

John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation

Toby Kiers ’94 reveals the hidden fungal networks shaping ecosystems beneath our feet — and perhaps a powerful ally in the fight against climate change. Miles Howard

The Exeter Bulletin

The View From Here

Volume CXXX, Issue no. 3

Principal William K. Rawson ’71; ’65,’70 (Hon.) P’08

Around the Table

Principal’s letter ∙ Heard in Assembly Hall ∙ Conversation with memoirist Madelyn Postman ’90 ∙ At the office with the director of facilities management ∙ The Bennett Fellow writes about love, loss and resistance in Nigeria ∙ Exonians in review ∙ Exoniana ∙ A new initiative designed by Marcus Lopez ’26 gets students and faculty talking

The Academy

Students excel around the globe ∙ Theater, dance and music ∙ Girls swimming crowned New England champions for fourth time ∙ New pole vault record set ∙ Love Gym facility updates ∙ MLK day ∙ English class offers modern take on Jane Austen works ∙ Winter sports highlights

Director of Communications Robin Giampa Editor in Chief Jennifer Wagner P’24

Millie Dunstan ’15 (center) poses with models wearing her sustainable fashion designs. P. 52

Connections

Solar cell engineer Chris Case ’74 ∙ Sustainable fashion designer Millie Dunstan ’15 ∙ Humanitarian Michael Ambler ’82 ∙ Events around the world

Class News and Notes

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Memorial Minute David Kenneth Dimmock

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Finis Origine Pendet

Class Notes Editor Cathy Webber Contributing Editor Patrick Garrity Staff Writers Adam Loyd, Sarah Pruitt ’95 Production Coordinator Ben Harriton Designers Rachel Dlugos, Andrew Hall, Jacqueline Trimmer Photography Editor Christian Harrison Communications Advisory Committee Daniel G. Brown ’82, Robert C. Burtman ’74, Dorinda Elliott ’76, Alison Freeland ’72, Yvonne M. Lopez ’93

TRUSTEES President Kristyn A. McLeod Van Ostern ’96 Vice President Suzi Kwon Cohen ’88 Bradford “Brad” Briner ’95, Samuel “Sam” Brown ’92, Elizabeth A. “Betsy” Fleming ’86, Ira D. Helfand, M.D. ’67, Paulina L. Jerez ’91, Giles “Gil” Kemp ’68, Eric A. Logan ’92, Eugene “Gene” Lynch ’79, Cornelia “Cia” Buckley Marakovits ’83, William K. Rawson ’71, Christine M. Robson Weaver ’99, Genisha Saverimuthu ’02, Michael J. Schmidtberger ’78, Peter M. Scocimara ’82, Leroy Sims, M.D. ’97, Rhoda K. Tamakloe ’01, Belinda A. Tate ’90, Janney Wilson ’83

THE EXETER BULLETIN (ISSN No. 0195-0207) is published four times each year: fall, winter, spring and summer, by Phillips Exeter Academy, 20 Main Street, Exeter, NH 03833-2460 Tel: 603-772-4311 Periodicals postage paid at Exeter, NH, and at additional mailing offices. Printed in the USA by Cummings Printing. The Exeter Bulletin is sent free of charge to alumni, parents, grandparents, friends and educational institutions by Phillips Exeter Academy, Exeter, NH.

pang-dian fan ’86

Sean Ricard ’28 jams during the winter Jazz Concert. P. 22

Postmasters: Send address changes to: Phillips Exeter Academy, Records Office 20 Main Street, Exeter, NH 03833-2460

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

THE VIEW FROM HERE

Lights. Camera. Canvas. It’s mid-morning in the Frederick R. Mayer Art Center and Tara Lewis (pictured left) has no less than three paint brushes in her hands. Lewis, the Alexander W. Clowes ’64 Instructor in Art, is putting the final touches on a few oil paintings, one of which features actor Paul Mescal from the film Hamnet. The piece was commissioned by the 98th Academy Awards artist project for a limitededition book, TheWrapBook Vol. 5: The Art of Cinema. “I created the paintings in my own distinctive style, developing an image that reflects both the actor’s presence and the cultural moment surrounding their performances,” says Lewis, who has been teaching art at the Academy for more than two decades. Working alongside Lewis, Shawna Jiang ’26 (pictured right) watches her teacher’s technique and asks questions as she develops a portrait of her brother during the ART 408: Painting Portraits class block. “I loved painting next to Ms. Lewis this past term!” Jiang says. “I looked up to her as a mentor. Together we would ponder which photograph to paint, dissecting the tiniest differences in the model’s poses. We had many talks and laughs, and it made this class one of the most enjoyable classes I’ve taken at Exeter!” The feeling was mutual. “I love the creative energy, determination and clever concepts my students present in the studio each day!” Lewis says.●

AROUND THE TABLE / CORRESPONDENCE

The Community Exchange Letters to the Editor The description of the preparation and planning demands on the mock trial team participants (“All Rise,” winter 2026) brought back many memories of both my Exeter and law school days. While appellate argument was available in each of my three law school years, in the third year a moot court trial was a mandatory course. Whether appellate or trial, our law school student activities were identical to those that are described in the article. So, for those who may go on to study law, invaluable lessons are being learned by participating in the mock trial team. In my era, we had debating clubs but no moot court. It is so pleasing to hear that moot court is alive and well on the Exeter campus. May it grow and prosper. Clarence V. (Larry) La Bonte ’54

I enjoyed your Memorial Minute about Jackie Thomas in The Exeter Bulletin (winter 2026). Other than Class Notes, this is my favorite section. Todd Hearon and the others who write these do a great job. Bruce Bernstein ’72

While Wick Sloane has “contributed significantly to the welfare of community, country or humanity” (“Educator and Activist,” winter 2026), I would like to acknowledge his contribution to my life. I arrived in Langdell Hall, a boy’s dorm back then, in January of 1971, as part of the first-ever handful of students matriculating in second semester. It was my upper year. Can you imagine? PEA hit me like a brick. The 4

intake process was chaotic, my classes were all wrong, I was homesick, I knew no one, the food was terrible, it was cold and dark — the very embodiment of Dean W. Ernest Gillespie’s assertion, “I don't believe anybody has ever claimed that Exeter is a warm nest.” Fortunately, Wick was a proctor in Langdell. From day one, Wick was welcoming, understanding, supportive and warm — a beacon of kindness. He never tried to cheer me up or put a good face on the situation. He just listened. Were it not for his kindness and good soul, I would not have returned. I will be forever grateful.

Anna Taormina ’26 snaps a selfie.

Raymond Mendez ’72

Feedback from the Quad On March 10, more than 450 hopeful applicants around the globe got the kind of news that is life changing: They’re in! Exeter’s class of 2030 is officially taking shape. So we asked today’s students to finish this sentence: “You should say yes to Exeter because ….” Here’s what they said: “The people here are motivated and supportive” “You’ll access some of the best clubs and extracurriculars in the world” “The Harkness Method”

Q What’s something you believed about yourself before coming to Exeter that has changed since you enrolled?

I believed that I saw the whole picture of the world before Exeter. But at Exeter, I heard stories that made my jaw drop and learned things that I didn’t even think could exist. Exeter showed me that what might seem impossible or what might seem done is never done — there is always more to see, more to learn — and that you can always find the possible in the impossible. Anna Taormina ’26

“The ice cream machine in Elm”

Scan this QR code to watch the video.

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

We want to hear from you! The Exeter Bulletin welcomes story ideas and letters related to articles published in recent issues. Please send your remarks for consideration to bulletin@exeter.edu or Phillips Exeter Academy, The Exeter Bulletin, 20 Main Street, Exeter, NH 03833.

Around the Table In Their Words Hear the adventures of those students, from 1970 to 1986, who took early graduation. P. 16

Hundreds of Exonians availed themselves of the opportunity to graduate early. The practice ended in 1986.

SPRING 2026 THE EXETER BULLETIN

AROUND THE TABLE / PRINCIPAL’S LETTER

A Message of Thanks

hen I arrived as Interim Principal on July 1, 2018, everyone knew I was grieving the recent loss of my wife, Mary. I think few, if any, understood I was worried that without Mary at my side I might not succeed. Then the most remarkable thing happened. Everyone on campus welcomed me — you might even say embraced me — in my new role. The Trustees gave me their full confidence and, importantly, room to do the job. A sense of belonging is just as important to a principal as it is to every student and adult at our school. The acceptance I felt from colleagues, and support I felt from trustees, gave me the belief that I did indeed belong here, and that I could do the job. I was nervous when it came time to deliver my first Opening Assembly address, but it was exhilarating

“Everything we have accomplished during my tenure as principal we have accomplished together.” 6

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to see the students cheer the faculty procession, and I felt encouraged by their warm reception when I introduced myself as “your Interim Principal.” I also remember well the students’ enthusiastic response at the end, when I announced the renaming of the Academy Center in honor of Elizabeth Phillips. That fall, I set about doing my job the same way I have done other jobs: I worked hard and tried to treat people well. I had the advantages every principal at Exeter has: a compelling school mission; strong institutional values; talented and wise faculty; a dedicated workforce; caring and committed trustees; and a shared conviction that our decisions and actions must always be based on the interests and needs of our students. My familiarity with the school and gratitude for how Exeter had changed my life were additional advantages. I recall vividly numerous interactions I had with alumni and parents that first fall, at Exeter Leadership Weekend and Family Weekend and on other occasions. Our alumni care deeply about our school and ask tough questions. So do our parents. I was grateful, and I was encouraged when my responses to hard questions and statements about the mission and values of the school resonated with these audiences. Such moments added to my confidence in saying “yes” when I was asked to serve as the 16th principal of the Academy. Effective leadership requires an inclination to listen and a willingness to decide. Like knowledge and goodness, both are required; one without the other is either weak or dangerous for an institution. I have tried to practice both and have been effective only insofar as I have done both. Everything we have accomplished during my tenure as principal we have accomplished together. In every decision and every action, you can see the influence, hard work and contributions of many others, both on and off campus. Together, we have touched many lives these past eight years, and we have done work that will affect the lives of students for years to come. The work we have done has added purpose and meaning to our lives. We have every reason to be grateful. I certainly am grateful, and I am also mindful each day that my being here was Mary’s last gift to me. I leave my role as principal much the way I left Exeter as a graduating senior many years ago: with profound gratitude for what I have learned and the friendships I have gained, and deep appreciation for how my time at Exeter has once again changed my life. I also leave with the belief that Exeter is and always will be a part of me, and that I will always belong here. —Bill Rawson ’71; ’65, ’70 (Hon.); P’08

QUOTED

Heard in Assembly Hall Sound bites from this winter’s speaker series

“Phones are not evil, but they are engineered to hook you. … This isn’t about deleting your apps, it’s about remembering what’s in control. Your brain is your most valuable currency, so please spend it wisely.” Dr. Lisa Roethling Director of student health and well-being at Savannah Country Day School

The Holocaust “didn’t start with the gas chambers. It took a lot of people to perpetrate this thing and I think, ultimately, I blame the bystanders. It took thousands of people to kill people, but it took millions of people to let it happen, because they were silent.” Kati Preston Holocaust survivor and author

“Art has the power to start movements, to sustain movements, to inspire people and unite people around a common cause. Sometimes the art is intricate and detailed and beautiful … but sometimes it’s as simple as a sentence presented in striking simplicity.” Yamanda Wright Artist and psychologist

“Sport … is a game changer. It allows you opportunities to blend with people and see opportunities that you maybe didn’t see in yourself. When I started to create the business model and we started to build out the collection, I went to [Nike] and said, ‘What if we took the proceeds of this product and donated it back to allow kids to have better access to sport?’” Sam McCracken Founder of Nike’s Native American business initiative, N7; member of Fort Peck Sioux and Assiniboine Tribes

“I think it’s very dangerous for the United States and China to be descending into spirals of mutual mistrust. We need to work together to solve the world’s most pressing challenges. ... I’ve dedicated my professional career to the belief that smart people in both countries need to find ways to connect, to communicate and to work together wherever possible.” Dinda Elliott ’76 Executive director of the Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies and the Harvard China Fund

To watch videos of some of these assemblies, go to exeter.edu/live. SPRING 2026 THE EXETER BULLETIN

AROUND THE TABLE / INSIDE THE WRITING LIFE

Making History Her Story A conversation with memoirist Madelyn Postman ’90

ecades ago, an aunt gifted Madelyn Postman ’90 a family tree detailing an ancestry she knew little about. Intrigued, she began digging into her family’s history, ultimately engaging a professional genealogist. That research evolved into a family memoir, Staring into the Sun: Stories from a Chinese American Family 18952015. Featuring her great-grandfather’s journey from a Chinese village to becoming a self-made millionaire in the U.S., her grandmother’s marriage to a renowned magician, and an intimate glimpse of her mother’s struggle with mental illness, the work deftly captures 20th-century American social and economic structures, immigration, and the building of new communities in California’s Bay Area. Postman, a sustainability consultant, drew on interviews with family members, visits to China and newspaper archives to write this engrossing mélange of memoir and creative nonfiction that is both a sharp-eyed take on her family’s dynamics as well as a deeply moving tribute to her relatives. We caught up with Postman in the run-up to the May publication of Staring into the Sun. You covered some big themes in the book — immigration, identity, social and economic structures. Did those topics come through organically as you were telling your family story? I think you can’t really extricate people from their surroundings and their context. I’m always struck by the world we’re born into, our cultural and our socioeconomic and geographic contexts. Part of the reason for writing this was to learn about history as well: I think if you see history through the eyes of an individual who lived through it, it gives you a much better grasp on what happened at that time. I also really like to show how quotidian life — culture, food, language, the way people dress — reflects bigger themes and ideas.

“I’m always struck by the world we’re born into, our cultural and our socioeconomic and geographic contexts.” 8

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

Madelyn Postman ’90

Part of your family story is a melding, through marriage, of two prominent Chinese American families. When did you realize that your family history was enmeshed in the history of California’s Bay Area? I grew up knowing about my great-grandfather [entrepreneur and philanthropist] Joe Shoong and his [dry-goods store chain] National Dollar Stores. That was always part of my knowledge of the family background. It’s been interesting hearing from the other side of my family, my grandmother’s side, who married into that dynasty — I mean, they were well off, but nothing like the scale of the Shoongs. That’s what Henri’s chapter is all about.

“It’s challenging writing about the people who are alive, not wanting to offend them. ... I’ve hurt some people by being too honest, but it didn’t create any lasting rifts.” I found the sections about your greatgrandfather Henri and your great-grandmother Rose particularly compelling. How did you bring family members to such vivid life, some of whom you never met? My cousin Michael remembers Henri really well, so he captured Henri’s personality for me. Rose died in the ’50s, but my great-aunt Celia, who just turned 100, told me about Rose, how feisty she was. I used Celia’s interview as well as photos of Rose. In those, she looks very unhappy and sort of stiff. That was probably the chapter I had the most fun with because Rose is a really unlikable character. I leaned into that and had fun with it, showing her conflicts. Were there particular challenges that arose as you were researching the book? It’s challenging writing about the people who are alive, not wanting to offend them. But you also don’t want to write about them in a flat way, only putting them in a good light. I’ve hurt some people by being too honest, but it didn’t create any lasting rifts. People have actually been very open with information — I don’t think there have been family secrets that people are trying to hide — but a couple of people wanted to be anonymous. Why did you decide to only tell the stories of your Chinese American relatives in this collection? Finding the voice for this project was tricky. At first, I wrote myself in the third person; after a manuscript assessment, I changed the chapters that I was in into memoir pieces — they became more emotionally powerful. With the narrative nonfiction chapters, I used Save the Cat! Writes a Novel and Story Genius, really helpful books in terms of plotting and structure. Bouncing between memoir and creative nonfiction, I got to the Staring into the Sun chapters, and realized, “This will stand on its own, as one story about half of my family.” For the other half, I’m working on a novel. You published chapters of this book on The Spark, your podcast and Substack newsletter, where you also share interviews with other writers. How much has input from fellow writers motivated and shaped your work? In all spheres of life, I really believe in community, and I’ve become quite active in the writing community. I was pretty isolated and working on my

own until around 2022, and then I started to do some courses on writing a synopsis, writing about conflict and tension, all these different kinds of online courses. On one of the courses, somebody in the chat said, “There’s a podcast called The Shit No One Tells You About Writing,” and that’s been an amazing resource. I listened to every episode. They give so many tips on the publishing world and writing, and they do author interviews, which is a great way to learn about writing craft. You can get so much from a community of writers, and you give back to that as well, being a good literary citizen. How has your background in branding and communications influenced your approach to writing? They’re very different things in terms of writing — different zones, different headspaces. For narrative writing, I really have to have focused time, to get into a flow; I need bigger chunks of time, and it feels like I’m using completely different parts of my brain. It is more time intensive and energy intensive. Did you learn anything new about yourself writing this book? It was quite cathartic and therapeutic to write about the family, and about my mother’s death in particular. And I think my view of myself changed: I wouldn’t have called myself a writer going into this, and I definitely am a writer coming out of it. Finally, what do you carry with you from your time at Exeter? Prep year I got an English award for a story about my brother … and there was another story that was about him and my grandparents. This is exactly the stuff I’m still interested in, and it goes back to Exeter! Having that encouragement to write made a difference: I had Peter Greer and Rex McGuinn, both just incredible teachers. I think learning how to write is indispensable in all areas of life. And something else from Exeter which is really important is the Harkness system, learning to speak up and be in a conversation where you’re building on people’s points, learning that sometimes you need to interrupt them. I’m really aware of how a lot of women don’t speak and don’t interrupt, when sometimes people have to be interrupted because otherwise you can’t get a word in edgewise. That is also something I use every day. — Daneet Steffens ’82, a journalist focused on books, has contributed to The Exeter Bulletin since 2013.

Staring into the Sun, by Madelyn Postman ’90

SPRING 2026 THE EXETER BULLETIN

AROUND THE TABLE / EXETER ANNOTATED

The Master Planner At the office with Director of Facilities Management Mark Leighton

xeter’s campus looks very different than it did 20 years ago, thanks in large part to Director of Facilities Management Mark Leighton. For the past two decades, he has been instrumental in the planning, construction and project management of several new Academy buildings including The David E. and Stacey L. Goel Center 10

for Theater and Dance, the William B. Thompson Field House, New Hall, the Hahn Center and renovations of the Davis Center and the Academy Building. When he’s not thinking about what’s next, Leighton manages a team of more than 100 people who maintain the Academy’s nearly 150 buildings and 1,400 acres, including areas not contiguous to campus. Leighton does all this

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

from his corner office in the single-story brick building on the south end of campus where mementos from past projects adorn his bookshelf. “What’s fun about my job is that it changes every day,” he says. “I’ll be working on a to-do list and something like a frozen pipe will come up. When you work in facilities, you get used to rolling with the punches and problem-solving.” ●

→ “We refer to maps like these when considering how to improve the infrastructure of our electrical system. We are looking at how to convert the campus to electric and eliminate fossil fuels by incorporating our geothermal wells, among other things. We’re always thinking about how best to do all these major projects without digging up the entire campus in the process.”

→ “This flag was a gift recognizing my time managing building projects at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base in the early 2000s. My wife and I were tired of Maine winters, so we moved with our 3-year-old son to Cuba — his brother was born on the base. We’d go to the beach as a family and we’d be next to Humvees with a gunner on top doing their security patrols, and we just got used to that being normal life.”

→ “A couple times a week, if not daily, I’ll switch into my steel-toed boots and get out to a project site. We have a great team that keeps me updated, so sometimes it’s more important for me to stay out of the way. But other times, going out and just asking questions highlights things that maybe need to be thought of or done differently.”

→ “I salvaged this plaque from the Thompson Cage. The design of the Cage was basically a bridge design, so it makes sense that the Boston Bridge Works sign would be there. My kids grew up in the Cage. We’d come over on weekends and play baseball or football, or run around on the elevated track. It was really perfect.”

SPRING 2026 THE EXETER BULLETIN

Bennett Fellow Tega Oghenechovwen

AROUND THE TABLE / FICTION

Writer in Residence

The following is an excerpt from “The Woman Who Brings Home The Ghost of Her Son,” the book Tega Oghenechovwen is working on during his George Bennett Fellowship year at the Academy. The story follows a woman dealing with repeated trauma centered on human loss. It was inspired by a 2020 massacre in which young Nigerians protesting peacefully against police brutality were killed by soldiers in Lagos. 12

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

maka thumbs through the books on Ikemefuna’s reading table — books by Steve Biko, Malcolm X, Frantz Fanon, and many other thinkers and revolutionaries — as if searching for her son in their pages. She selects Fela’s 1976 Zombie vinyl from the stack by the corner, turns on Ikemefuna’s record player — a gift he had bought himself for his

mubanga kalimamukwento

Bennett Fellow Tega Oghenechovwen writes of love, loss and resistance in Nigeria

“Three months after the massacre, Amaka still cannot trust herself to drive. Instead, she haunts inquisition hearings.”

18th birthday — and places the vinyl on the turntable. She sits behind Ikemefuna’s study desk and listens as Fela sings about how Nigerian soldiers are zombies quickened by the government and turned against innocent, ordinary citizens; how they take orders from above without processing the morality or human consequence of those orders. Amaka feels something — the bold beating of her heart. She listens again. This time with Ikemefuna’s ears, with Ikemefuna’s consciousness, strangely coming to the awareness that her quiet will not serve her. ••• Three months after the massacre, Amaka still cannot trust herself to drive. Instead, she haunts inquisition hearings — where once, to her shock, she’d watched men and women who claimed to have lost loved ones at the Lekki toll gate grow suddenly desperate as soon as a group of important-looking officials she was sure were acting on the government’s behalf started writing and distributing cheques. She haunts morgues and temples of justice, searching for the last trace of Ikemefuna. She rides the bright yellow danfo minibuses and walks the remainder, her body grilled by the sun, her skin coated in dust. If she has learned anything during this period, it is that the government is not only skilled at killing and lying but also in the hiding of dead bodies. Today, at the gate of Bonny Garrison — the post from which the soldiers responsible for the massacre were deployed — rainwater hangs in the trenches of Amaka’s clavicles. Pouches of flesh, filled with all the sleep she has missed since Ikemefuna died, hang from her eyes. She stares at the giant pit bulls slamming against the other side of the wrought-iron gate, their loud, ugly barks promising her terror. Amaka stands like the Eiffel Tower, feet planted wide, holding up a laminated placard with an enlarged photo of Ikemefuna’s face. She has come this way a few times — with Kola, with Chinwe and Chuks — and their friends, who showed up in T-shirts reading #JusticeForIkem, and Tolani and her boys, who brought their own boys and made videos and the good type of noise. Most of the time, she stays till dusk and attracts, like everywhere else, the crooked eyes of the press and the temporary solidarity of strangers.

A soldier with thin limbs in crisp camo khaki and shiny black boots clatters out from the garrison, stomping towards her. “You this useless woman!” He stares her down with bloodshot eyes before yanking the placard from her. “Your son pikin for toll gate. And so bloody what?” He grabs her wrist. “Where are you taking me?” “You want to see your pikin. Right? Move it!” The pit bulls leap at Amaka and hang at the end of their leashes — suffocating in idiotic fury — as the soldier pulls her into the garrison. He marches her down the length of a sterile archway, into the vast interior of an office where a man, squat and round like a rice cooker, sits behind a mahogany table, eating a meal of reddish-brown beans and well-done steak. The colonel grunts, motioning the soldier to step out. “You have killed my son.” Amaka clenches her fist and toes. “Why play hide and seek with his body?” The colonel’s bulk does not permit talking, breathing, and eating simultaneously. He takes his time until he is done stomaching his food. “I am truly sorry for your loss, madam.” He winces and, to Amaka’s disgust, releases a bubbling, brown fart that increases the temperature of the room and ferments the saliva in her mouth. “But … you can’t keep on like this. Our enemies at Amnesty International have started running their mouths. Because of people like you.” He lumbers to the tea machine and brews two cups of tea, offering her one. In another world, she would have gladly accepted the cup, having exposed herself to the weather, but in this world of the garrison — now reeking of excrement — all Amaka sees in the cup, when she leans over, is her son’s blood. She shakes her head. “Are you scared of me?” “Scared?” Her voice wavers. “Why should I be scared?” He casts her a viperous gaze, flaring his nostrils. “What of now, madam?” She drills into the gaze, carefully — daringly — without blinking. He flicks his wrist, gesturing for her dismissal. As she turns to the door, he commands, “I don’t want to see you around here again! If not —” Something lurches in her stomach, rising fast through her throat. It bursts past her clenched jaw, SPRING 2026 THE EXETER BULLETIN

“Her heart faltered. She could not tell him; could not warn him that he was eyeing the same tunnel his father had entered.”

loud and jagged, before she can stop it: “Tell me! Was that my son’s corpse you were eating? What more can you do? You beast! You zombie!” She hears herself screaming, blinded by rage. She belts out the opening lines of Fela’s Zombie in a frenzy. She doesn’t notice the colonel hurtle toward her but feels his hard, leathery palm as it crashes on her cheek, shifting her jaw. Paap! “You are stupid!” he yells. Paap! “How dare you call me zombie.” Paap! Amaka doesn’t feel the paaps. What wracks her body isn’t the pain but the memory — the anguish, the shame — of the first time she’d slapped Ikemefuna five years ago. ••• They had been vacationing in Jos. Amaka was behind the wheel of a small, rented car, seated in the tight traffic around Gada Biyu, with Ikemefuna in the front passenger seat. They were on their way to climb Shere Hills where they could wholly capture Jos with all its breathtaking wonders and get lost while touching the twilight sky. She monitored the progress of a black Prado jeep, three cars behind theirs, from the rear mirror as its siren blared rudely and shoved its way between the vehicles in front of it. Soon it got right behind her car and whoever was driving began to honk non-stop at her to pull off the road into an adjoining bush. Amaka refused to budge at first, choosing to crank up the music on the stereo and roll up the windows of the car. The Prado managed to force its way to her side. The front window slowly sank to reveal a man with pencil-thick scars drawn over his paper-thin face. He was impatiently pointing a buckshot gun at her. So, she gave in. She gave in because she was scared for her life; because she was trying to protect Ikemefuna; and because she had a flashback to a moment many, many years earlier when she was pregnant and someone had pointed a gun at his father. Ikemefuna looked at her with fiercely berating eyes, like she had done the unthinkable. “Why did you yield to those brutes?” he said. “You had the right of way. It wasn’t even an emergency.” “Well —” “It was just some politicians, maybe a senator who wanted to —” “But Ikem, you saw —" 14

THE EXETER BULLETIN SPRING 2026

“Just because they have sirens and a stupidlooking security man ...” It had been a ridiculously hot day. Her brain was recoiling from Ikemefuna’s loudening voice. It dawned on her that he was getting beyond reasoning with, beyond the basic sense of self-preservation just like his father had been. And so, she lifted her right hand and struck his face — as if to say, I will not lose you like I lost your father. Ikemefuna squirmed, holding the welt forming on his cheek, his flowing eyes squinting bitterly at the Prado jeep already ahead. Later that night, she went into his hotel room, put her fingers into his hair, and said, “Ọ dị m n'obi. Dike m. My small husband.” And rather than apologizing for hitting him, she said, “You know what? I bought you suya. I told them to cut in all the delicious parts you like. Fix your face. Follow me.” Ikemefuna got up from his bed and followed her out to the yard. There was not only suya but a brand-new PS2 ready to be unboxed. The sky was vast and lit in a way that encouraged truth-telling. Her heart faltered. She could not tell him; could not warn him that he was eyeing the same tunnel his father had entered — a tunnel whose exit had, sadly, led to his father’s demise. She felt that doing so would only fuel his resentment toward the government and its forces and lead to him taking actions that would consume him. So, she told him that he did not always have to question everything, did not always have to fight; that it was never wise to struggle with a mad person, especially when that mad person was holding a gun; that in the country power was everything. And that if he loved and respected her, he would listen to her, especially when she was calling for caution. “Ikem, a na m aghota?” She threw her arms around him and placed his head on her bosom. “Anurum gi, mama.” He nodded. “I understand. Thank you.” — Tega Oghenechovwen is the 56th Bennett Fellow. His work exploring psychological trauma, social justice, displacement and communal grief has appeared in The Caine Prize for African Writing anthology, The Kenyon Review, Joyland, The Rumpus, and elsewhere. Oghenechovwen has an M.F.A. in creative writing (fiction) from the University of Maryland.

About the Fellowship The George Bennett Fellowship is one of the country’s most sought-after postgraduate writing fellowships. It is awarded annually to a promising author who has not yet published a book and includes a stipend for one academic year, as well as housing and meals for the author and their family. In addition to working on personal writing, the fellow is asked to be available to students, including members of English classes and student literary organizations. The fellowship was established by Elias B.M. Kulukundis ’55 in honor of his teacher, George E. Bennett ’23. Bennett taught in the English Department for 37 years.

Listen to Tega Oghenechovwen speak to students during assembly in January.