Our school didn’t ban phones. It didn’t ban chatting. It didn’t even ban running in the corridors. It banned candy.

According to the teachers, too much sugar made us “too energetic”. But according to us, candies made break time worth surviving. The announcement was met with gasps dramatic enough to make you think we’d just been told summer holidays were cancelled.

“No more chocolates?”

“What about lollipops?”

“My mum literally packed cookies today!”

So many voices mixed together.

The principal simply smiled and said, “You’ll survive.”

We weren’t so sure.

For the first few days, everyone followed the rule. At break time, students opened their lunch boxes and stared sadly at sandwiches, apples or nuggets. Some of us kept checking our bags as if a chocolate bar might magically appear. We tried to convince ourselves that fruit was just as good as candy. Nobody believed it. It felt like punishment. We craved chocolate treats, but there was nothing in the canteen and we weren’t allowed to bring them to school.

Then something strange started happening. Students who had never spoken to each other before were suddenly having very secretive conversations. People disappeared behind the library during break and returned chewing… something. Pencil cases were being exchanged as if they contained top-secret government files. Rumours spread faster than homework excuses.

“There’s a girl in Eighth,” my best friend whispered one morning. “She can get you anything,” she said.

I laughed. “Anything?”

“Gummy bears. Chocolate bars. Sour strips. Even imported candy.”

“You’re making this up,” I said, unconvinced.

“I wish I had,” she said with a smile.

Still, I didn’t believe her. She held my hand and dragged me to the second-floor corridor. There, she told me to hide behind a pillar. Then I saw three students walk up to the same eighth-grade girl. One by one, they handed her some money. Then came the exchange: chocolates, candies and biscuits. They walked away smiling.

I stared, dumbfounded.

“Did you see that?” my friend said.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” I whispered.

My best friend folded her arms, “Welcome to the sweetest underground business in school.”

I should’ve walked away. Instead, I made the mistake of saying five dangerous words: “So… how does it work?”

Published in Dawn, Young World, October 3rd, 2026