By Comedic Storyteller Onicia Muller

“Boy, I don't even know the last time I was in a container.”

As the salesman closed the door behind us, I got flashbacks to 1995. Picture it: A young Onicia crammed in a metal box with about 19 dutty heads. Our desks arranged in two, two-row columns with a large cabinet in the back and our teacher’s desk and chalkboard pinned to the front.

“Did we really fit that many second graders into such a narrow space?” I wondered aloud. Rebecca and the salesman had no idea what I was going on about. Doesn’t matter because I was caught up in the flashback and sharing the memory with them.

So, after Hurricane Luis destroyed my island, we had to share a campus with another school. My class ended up in one of these containers. It wasn’t all bad – also, the container had AC! Because school started in the afternoons, I spent the mornings at my mom’s job eating snacks and playing.

Anywhores, one day we were in class and Mrs. Rachel suddenly stopped the lesson. Homegyal went from nice-nice to “Stop it right now!”

Who was she talking to? What was she talking about? I didn’t know. Honestly, I was always kinda slow so I never knew anything.

She went back to teaching and then… “Look, I’m being nice by putting the AC on. If y’all don’t behave, I’m taking it off! So stop it and apologize.”

The class was stunned. A nearby dutty head announced that someone was farting and the room was stink.

Was the room stink? I don’t know! *Cries in tebbe* Every time I relive this memory, I honestly don’t remember smelling anything. People started covering their noses. The room became rowdy. There was so much happening and then… “That’s it! I’m going outside. Everyone is going to remain in this room until one of you apologizes.”

Yoooo, (struggling not to laugh) you ever get so mad you decide to mass murder people dem pickney? PAHAHAHAHAH. Ooooh, chile. Mrs. Rachel was bout dat torture life. She straight up left us in that container classroom. 

With the AC off?!


Alls I know is that homegyal was not bluffing. She peaced out and didn’t return until the school day was over. I don’t know how much time she had left on the clock, but we were all shook. We heard the bell. We heard the other students running for the bus. No one had the balls to test her gangsta. So we just sat there. Waiting.

The pressure was so tense I blacked. Next thing I knew the door cracked open and Mrs. Rachel stood in the doorway. “You may leave. See you tomorrow.”

The next day, I learned that one of my classmates shat their pants. They were too embarrassed to ask to go to the bathroom. Mrs. Rachel started flipping out made them even shyer. What a cosa! We were only eight or nine years old.

Shout out to all my incontinent humans. So what you got to sit in a little doo doo. We still love you.

Created on St. Maarten; based in Chicago, Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) is an award-winning comedic storyteller. She writes and says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. “Just Being Funny” is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life. Visit