Butwaa! 2

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Any mlevi reading this knows that hio mkojo ndio ime hold back kuzima ziii. So Liz takes her to a nearby washroom, and when she comes back, her legs seem to have forgotten their function, you know, like holding the body weight and supporting locomotion. Miguu zake ziko jelly jelly. So she just says,  "ebu mnishikilie kiasi"  That, my friends, was the last time I saw her standing. Her eyes shut, her mouth failed the speaking test, and she just fell into our hands. Visiting hours zimeisha, amevaa uniform, tuko in a location civilian hawafai kukuwa. Trouble was brewing like the water we just drank. We tell Liz juu pia yeye ako na uniform aende akuje na help as we try to make her vomit and pour water on her. Waapi!  Liz alienda na simu yake and the clothes we had brought. Mpaka leo 11 years later hajawai rudi. We are there for 30 mins and catch the radar: civilians on government land. A whistle is blown, and close to 40 officers are on scene in a minute. Zilishuka mpaka nikak...
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Scrummy.

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The dread I was feeling at that very point in time, it was nerve wrecking. I was at a crossroad deciding whether I should knock and go in and face the music or call it quits with education. Fate has a cruel sense of humor, and I think it got tired of me dilly dallying so before I got a chance to make a decision, he saw me and called out.


“Wewe ndio aisking?”

“Ingia.”

“Very good.”

 “Unasema unataka kukua nani ukiwa mkubwa?”


“Neurosurgeon mwalimu.”


“Hio iko na letter ngapi za alphabet?”


Mr Ogolla was our deputy principal, plus doubling up as the discipline master. His famous Mr Green was a plumbing pipe fitter with cement on the bore and a stroke from that came could give the one unfortunate enough to be on its receiving end a stroke. Its on good authority that I heard that he once stopped a school strike from happening due to everyone's fear of being the sacrificial monkey to be hanged. 

Back to neurologist manenos. Hio siku tulikuwa tunapigiana hekaya pale class na my mates, Lewis, luchera, stano, and not forgetting, mukchu. Unfortunately the class prefect, Oluchina, had seen our fun, gotten jealous and out of envy, surrendered our names as peace destroyers aka noisemakers. I was first in the list and so first on the entrance to hell. 

I replied, knowing war was coming to me whether I liked it or not.

“Iko na letter tisa mwalimu.”


“Wewe!”

“kumbe akili imejaaa tu ugali ya dining hall,”

“andika hapa uhesabu.”


“Wan tuu thirii fo faiv...”

“Twelofu.”

“Nî twelofu mwalimu.”


“Hayaa enda chini.”


I knew resisting was futile at this point and would in turn result in the number of canes to be increased tremendously so I did as I was told as I waited for what was to come as the condemned waits upon their dreaded fate. 

Thwack! 

Thwack! 

Thwack! 

Thwack!

His instrument of punishment, the famous Mr Green, rained down mercilessly over my sitting apparatus over and over again until I lost count. Mr Ogolla, the deputy principal, continued on without seizing, without breaking a sweat, and the pain, heeeh, don't get me started on the pain I felt at that very moment.

As for my friends was the last time any of those four were my deskmates ever. Now that was like how fire is to gold. From then onward, no amount of caning could snap me. I was the kausha as they say, until I met Scrummy.

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Is a pleasure to keep you as my reader entertained. Peace✌️

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