One Lazy Sunday Afternoon
High school can be a drag; especially if you are a boarder. It’s like doing time. The strict code of conduct to instill discipline into young minds sometimes drives me crazy. The chief disciplinarian is the Principal, an American missionary who haunts every dark path and escape route into town. The only time we are allowed to go out of the gates is on Sunday afternoon, once a month. Dressed in neatly pressed uniform, we troop out for three hours to paint the town white. It is one such late Sunday afternoon in the late 1980’s that six of us are walking on a road heading back to the school. A squirrel suddenly springs from the undergrowth. We scramble for rocks and are hot on its heels as it zigzags across the road. Two cars suddenly appear behind us and we stop to allow them pass before resuming the chase. They don’t. The lead car, a VW Combi stops right next to us. The window on the front passenger’s side rolls down. It’s not the Principal thank God! He doesn’t drive a combi anyway. It’s …er… No! … it can’t be…. my rocks drop… the ones I’d picked up from the road when the squirrel appeared you mug!...followed quickly by my jaw.
TV’s and newspapers do great justice for it is through them that we get to recognize faces. I had been used to black and white images but I would have recognized this face in any colour. Before us, in 3D, is the President of the Republic of Kenya; Daniel arap Moi. “Habari ya vijana?” (How are you boys?), “Mzuri” (Fine) “Your Excellency Sir!” the response is uncoordinated and certainly not from me. I am dumbstruck. “Shule gani?” (Which school?) again, the response. Someone is really bailing most of us out. “Na kwa nini hapana weka shati ndani?” (and why haven’t you tucked in your shirts?). There is a quick flurry of activity and a man emerged from the vehicle behind, a Land Rover 110. He is tall and slender, with steely eyes. He has an aerial sticking out of his jacket pocket. He gives us a once over thinks better of it and jumps back in. The President is educating us on the virtues of studying hard and we are nodding as if our lives depend on it. He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a packet of Orbit chewing gum. Someone steps forward and receives it. He wishes us well and drives off to a farm he has in the neighbourhood.
Five minutes later, and we haven’t moved. Someone points at me and laughs. I had tucked my shirt inside the underwear. With squirrel forgotten, we scramble for the Orbits. I get three pieces. Even though they are banned from school, I chew and recycle them openly for a month. I walk around with a warm glow for the rest of the school term and the gum wrappers become my bookmarks for the whole year.
TV’s and newspapers do great justice for it is through them that we get to recognize faces. I had been used to black and white images but I would have recognized this face in any colour. Before us, in 3D, is the President of the Republic of Kenya; Daniel arap Moi. “Habari ya vijana?” (How are you boys?), “Mzuri” (Fine) “Your Excellency Sir!” the response is uncoordinated and certainly not from me. I am dumbstruck. “Shule gani?” (Which school?) again, the response. Someone is really bailing most of us out. “Na kwa nini hapana weka shati ndani?” (and why haven’t you tucked in your shirts?). There is a quick flurry of activity and a man emerged from the vehicle behind, a Land Rover 110. He is tall and slender, with steely eyes. He has an aerial sticking out of his jacket pocket. He gives us a once over thinks better of it and jumps back in. The President is educating us on the virtues of studying hard and we are nodding as if our lives depend on it. He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a packet of Orbit chewing gum. Someone steps forward and receives it. He wishes us well and drives off to a farm he has in the neighbourhood.
Five minutes later, and we haven’t moved. Someone points at me and laughs. I had tucked my shirt inside the underwear. With squirrel forgotten, we scramble for the Orbits. I get three pieces. Even though they are banned from school, I chew and recycle them openly for a month. I walk around with a warm glow for the rest of the school term and the gum wrappers become my bookmarks for the whole year.
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