A story from Chebarbar Primary School

Disclaimer: True story, but a bit long.
A friend just told me a story from his form one days. He studied in a mixed school. To be brief, he says he was a very behaved boy, dressing smartly and always sort the attention of the teachers and especially the deputy principal because he wanted to be chosen as one of the school prefects. Having come from a remote area, he still had the hangovers of village primary schools where teachers handpicked the prefects. But here was a secondary school entrenching juvenile democracy. He says the school had established a tradition of choosing prefects through election by the students themselves.
My friend says he would leak intelligence about the 'bad guys' to the deputy and always acted so close to the administration as to appear the defacto ideal prefect. He says he would actually work around bossing and harassing his colleagues, a habit which the girls loathed so much. He says the deputy used his information to punish the 'bad guys', suspended them from school and even painted them negatively before the other students. My friend would smile at such situations knowing he was inching closer to being a prefect. He says he would at times request the deputy principal to give them the school music system and some free time to watch Nollywood as a way of enticing fellow students. The problem with this guy is that he was always last in class. So dump that he never opened his mouth in class except when yawning. And sadly, the crooks were the school's creme de la creme.
When the time to choose new prefects came, except for a few fellows whom the other students had branded as 'moles of the administration', all the students surprisingly chose many of the 'bad guys' and left my friend. So ungrateful were they that 67 out of the 71 girls in his class actually scoffed at him on that day and told him to his face, "wewe snob, utakula na macho". My friend says this was so frustrating that he even contemplated quitting altogether.
Now these 'bad guys' being the student's favourite had to be boxed in by the administration lest they made running the school difficult. The administration forgot about the antics of my friend and even went ahead to orient the new guys as prefects to take up their duties. A few days later as the crooks were crowned at the assembly podium, my friend was with the other students watching and clapping. The school deputy used to whip the boys at the assembly grounds using thorns. So painful was it that the students nicknamed the ground Kapkatet. He says when the naughty boys(now prefects) were each given a chance to say a word during their coronation at the assembly, the feeling was so severe he almost puked.

I simply told him to take heart. Such is the irony of life.
What am I saying?