Birthday Wishes, High School Style

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He was shaking uncontrollably. He was on the verge of tears. He was drenched in water, his clothes were soaked. To cap it all words failed him, he couldn't beg for mercy anymore.

The occasion was his birthday and boys had conspired to give him a present he would never forget.

A student came from nowhere and splashed him with a bucketful of liquid cow-dung. That was a game changer.

There are a few cardinal rules in high school. The first and adhered by all regardless of station in life is that Form Ones are not supposed to sit, bathe or conduct their business where Form Fours are.

As a Form One, you have to check out when form fours of your dormitory bathe and adjust accordingly. Likewise you cannot sit anywhere they are. Breaking this rule had dire consequences which I wont repeat here.

The second most important rule is not to tel your classmates your birthday. By telling them you have sold the little freedom you have. They conspire to make your birthdays the most unmemorable events during your sojourn in high school.He broke the rule a few months into our stay in High School. He casually told a talkative classmate when his birthday was due. In the first year we did not”celebrate” his birthday. this was simply because Form Ones, as I have alluded above, are supposed to be seen and not heard.

Any kind of excitement coming from Form Ones was crushed with brute force by senior students. We therefore waited patiently for the second year. He had thought his secret was safe but unbeknown to him the talkative guy had let on the secret.We therefore waited patiently until we reached in form two.

Three days to the big day, secret meetings were held to map out strategies of giving him an unforgettable birthday. All this happened without our colleague being in the picture. Buckets were secured and everything was prepared to detail waiting for the big day. The execution had to be meticulous.

On that day buckets with water were placed in his class room. Two were placed behind the classroom door while two others were placed at the farthest two corners of the class. Several others were in his dormitory.

Evening preps went on as usual. Most students were in the loop. Even colleagues from other two streams were aware. Only those who made it their duty to exclusively socialize with their books were unaware. Preps ended at 9.45 pm. Five minutes to time, two students went near the door. The door was secured.

His instincts must have alerted him because he made to the door, but he was too late. The first bucketful of water caught him unawares, as boys clapped and cheered three others splashed on him in quick succession. He was advised to head to the dormitory. On the way to the dormitory, heavily guarded, he was pleading for mercy.

On arrival at the dormitory, the party was not over as he hoped. More water came from all sides.

Then the unexpected moment of the cow dung being splashed on him. We had gathered around him and teasing him but after this single act, the teasing stopped and he was asked to go take a shower.

The rituals were to be repeated in the next two years but the man was clever, he would be away from school for two days around that time.

Watoto Kaeni Chini; Village Movies

Just what happened to the Kenya Film Commission sponsored big screen village movies?Kenya Film Commission may not be aware but those movies exposed some of us to a hitherto unknown night world.

In my hometown the film would pitch tent on 8th of every month. That day was therefore set aside by all male youths as the day of 'film'. That meant that any other activities that were scheduled for the evening of the 8^th of the month were differed to another time.

Since the movie kicked off at 7pm to 9pm preparations would start early in the day. If it was a school day we would hurry up home and get the rabbits enough weeds in time. One would then check if there was enough firewood and finally take a shower.

Since a complete shower involving the whole body would be undertaken on Saturdays with warm water in a karai much ado was not wasted on that day in washing the face and the legs. By washing the legs I mean from the knees downwards. That was our version of a weekday shower.

After being ready, you had to perform a disappearing act at about 6.30pm.

The reason for vanishing from the homestead without informing the parents was to ward off any attempts by our mothers from sending you on mundane errands like to go and check the price of salt in the village kiosk before coming for money. Such activities wasted time.

Upon arrival at town gardens we would then hang around and wait for the free movie to begin.The movie would start at about 7pm with a national anthem belted out of the loudspeakers. Since it was projector movie, the pictures were visible from afar.

The sitting arrangement would look haphazard for a visitor. It was not.

Youths from Various villages sat apart from each other. Such arrangement gave us a false sense of security.

False or otherwise security was of paramount importance since various villages had bad blood between them. You just never knew who was your enemy.But that did not deter young boys of less than ten years going near the screen and being ordered, frequently, by narrator to sit down, hence 'watoto kaeni chini'

The movie was always about American soldier's ordeals in Vietnam. Funny thing the Americans always won in the movie despite history showing that the Americans were badly defeated in Vietnam.

The most funny thing about those movies was that there was a narrator who made do in kiswahili, what the actors were saying. He could predict a scene and guide the attentive audience through the motions , plot and subplots of the movie. It was refreshing to listen to the man.

You could hear things like “hapa mwenya sinema ama ukitaka starring anatega mitego ambayo itaangamiza wakora wengi sana. Ndugu zanguni usisahau starring angali anangojewa na kidosho chake tulipowawacha!”.

After the free movie the real thrill of entertainment would be vanished by the events that would follow.

The assembled crowd which numbered in hundreds would then move to disperse each group to the road leading to its village.At that moment strange things would happen. There is no explanation why bad blood existed between various villages.

That not notwithstanding stones, rotten eggs would be thrown from one side to the other immediately the narrator announced the movie was over.

Woe unto you if a rotten egg landed you.

Village Hotel That Hosts Political Analysts

It is a hotel frequented by primary school dropouts who value their dignity. They go there to listen to old men regale stories of yore. Therefore it is common place to see young men mingle with old men as they engage in political banter.

They value their dignity for multiple reasons. Chief among them is that these young men dropped out of school not because there was no school fees, but the thought of rebelling against their parents seemed to be good when they dropped out of school.

Now many years on they were secretly feeling that they had made the wrong mistake but had the dignity not to admit their mistakes in public. And so they went to the village hotel.

The hotel is a combination of subtle humor.

It is made up of low level tables. The kind that reach just above your knees when you are standing, never mind that you are less than six feet tall.

The tables are three, two put next to each other while the third is put on the other side of the wall.

The seats are long forms which give the impression that they were made for four year old kids. That means that their height is just above the knee. So it is a discomforting situation when old and the young meet and sit to discuss politics.

There is only one waiter who serves the unschooled customers who patronize the hotel. The prices of dishes offered are pocket friendly considering that a cup of tea goes for two shillings and fifty cents while an andazi costs three shillings.

When I once tasted the tea I was held back by the taste. It tasted more like water that the tea it was supposed to be. Milk and sugar had been sprinkled, so to say.

At the counter is a glass wall that allows you to see where the owner who also dubs as the cashier stores mandazi. The kitchen is behind the cashier. There is a small window that allows the cashier to order food from the kitchen which happens to be behind him.

In the kitchen there is only one man who prepares all the menu that is offered in that hotel.

This hotel itself can only host a maximum of 15 people at a time.

The patrons come in to discuss politics since that is the only unifying agenda.

The hotel owner buys the national Swahili newspaper that serves his customers well. 

 

You see, the old men cannot read English papers because when they were supposed to be in class they were busy fighting for Kenya's independence. The young men can neither read nor understand English what with having told their parents that 'tikio thuruari'. Meaning that Education cannot be equated to clothes and therefore not important.

In the hotel arguments abound. The arguments emanate from the Swahili newspaper stories they read.

Political stories with national appeal are debated, analyzed and the verdict is given, from the village view. 

 

Since the hotel is patronized in the evenings when people are relaxing it is always noisy at this time as the patrons engage each other on verbal wars on various political issues. Recently I visited the hotel and realized that the owner has put up a colour television which comes in handy when parliament is in session. 

 

Unfortunately the audience always hears most of the words in passing because internalizing and interpreting the parliamentary English language is a tall order. Therefore you will find the village hotel audience gazing at the screen as lawyers in parliament engage in interpretations of law and such legalese language.

Sometimes there is someone who will volunteer tell the other patrons what is happening in parliament but the meaning of what is actually happening in parliament is lost in translation. Often by a big margin of error. 

Waiting For President Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi

The assembly bell rang at 3 pm. It was a Wednesday and therefore unusual. Lessons had to be adjourned. All students trooped to the assembly ground.

We knew that there must be major news to warrant the assembly. Teachers trooped out of the staffroom in readiness of the Principal's arrival.

After all had assembled, the Principal emerged from the he administration block and walked straight to the podium.

He did not bother with customary greetings.

“I have received a word from the District Commissioner's office to the effect that the Head of State will be visiting this region on Friday. You are therefore required to be at the main junction of the main road so that you can receive the President. Be there from 9am, and be smart,” intoned the no nonsense principal.

When the big day finally came we were happy because we were not supposed to wake up for the usual 5.30 am preps. A mind numbing ritual.

After breakfast we all trooped towards the main junction which is less than a kilometer away.

Soon other schools both primary and secondary joined us.

The official word from our teachers who had joined us was that the president would be there “soon”. “soon” is an ambiguous word as we found out.

As the schools increased so did the restlessness of some of the boys. What with teenage adolescence at its peak.

Therefore, despite girls having been sequestered by their watchful teachers, some boys managed to sneak where the girls were and hold conversations.

As the time moved on so did the sun become uncomfortable. The normal time for tea break beckoned, but we could not move back to school. Our cooks had joined us in the noble task of waiting to clap for the President.

By noon a few had started becoming unruly, we were over 10 high schools anyway.

Some boys mastered the courage to leave the crowd and invade nearby shambas.

The invasion was was not for sport it was to look for sugar cane. They succeeded largely because most of the teachers had become tired and left.

As hunger pangs worked on the student population and so the Provincial Administration was at pains to explain just how soon was soon. We were aware that the President's motorcade is not interrupted by other motorists but we could see ordinary motorists driving both sides of the road.

Some students unable to wait any longer trooped back y to school for lunch. I was one of them. We came back to find students still waiting.

At about 3 pm a government vehicle came and the occupant announced that the president had landed 70 kilometers away and he would stop at various stages “akipokea salamu za wananchi”.

In those days there were no mobile phones and therefore we had to take the crap the government functionary had fed us.

At about 5pm the first signs that the president was really coming emerged. Police officers arrived and started directing vehicles.

We stood attention and grabbed vantage positions. Police vehicles started buzzing past and finally the President's escort vehicles were on the horizon.

The usual push and shove so common with commoners took centre stage .Soon finally was nigh as people ululated for the old man.

He emerged from his limousine while his security men were busy stepping on us.

He greeted a few girls then took a microphone.

In a deep voice he said” ahsanteni sana watu ya hapa. Nimeshukuru kufika hapa kwenyu (loud applause) .

Kama mnavyojua chama cha Kanu ni chama imara. Wanafuzi wote walio hapa mnafaa mjue shule hizi mnasomea zimechengwa na chama ya Kanu. Sina mengi ya kusema saa hii kwa sababu kesho nitaongea mengi katika mkuano kwa staduim”( applause). Ahsanteni sana na mungu awabariki. Ahsanteni mkae vivyo hivyo.”

And with that speech the old man zoomed off. That is how we managed to use our day wisely.