back in high school

Hardly had I slumbered when that gong rang. Several strokes followed. I shrieked! Woke up aghast! Amid quagmire. Heavy-eyed. There was no time to get ready. Other ‘cubemates’ had already left for class. The hallway was messy.  Boys ran without direction. Majority being form ones, trailing other schoolboys. In front of me stood Mr. Obonyo; the deputy principal. Whip in hand.  My four year journey had just began. On the extreme end, came a voice, ghastly! Showy! “Wake up. Time for class. Run…” I inquired later and was told, that was the most dreaded prefect around. He was the senior prefect on duty.

I jerked out of bed. Joined the crowd in the corridor, and dashed to class. Prefects all over. I checked my desk, a Bible, an atlas and a hymn book were all that lay in there. Minutes had to be wasted again. I had to ponder which of the three was to be read. I wasn’t a devout Christian, the Bible was hence out of question. Finally, I settled. The hymn suited me.  So I woke up at 4! Just to study a hymn book! Who cared? Form ones admission lasted the whole week. Nothing learn’t yet. We had also not been issued with library cards.  We hence kept alternating the three tomes.

Nonetheless, life took a turn at form two. The innocent souls I met a year earlier were now roosters. They pursued every girl around. Brian, who joined school a faithful no longer attended CU meetings. He took charge of the class auto book. By the way, do you remember that book? It housed contacts and sitting positions of all class members. Some even had photos of the while class. That’s the one Brian took charge of. And had connections with all girls’ schools around. Do you recall that guy! Or that girl! Who, for the thirst for trips, could not afford the luxury of a single club’s membership? The type who could be a journalism club secretary, a straight talk vice chair, a drama club treasurer, a YCS choir leader, and a member of at least two other associations! All at the same time.

Fellows who consumed packets of mandazi in a single meal! And, Wait! This sort of folks also, who ‘whistled’ and ‘burnt’ right from the second week of the term. I took tea without escort one day. Thank God this never befell you.  It was like informing Duale that he’s part of the Eurobond saga. And think of the lads who used to get salvation each Sunday. Or maybe those only existed in my school! They would always raise their hands whenever the chaplain inquired those willing to surrender their lives to God.

By the way, do you remember this teacher! This maths teacher you all hated. Or was it the chemistry teacher! They always rejoiced to see other teachers miss their lessons. I mean, they always dangled around your class to see which teacher was not coming in. And bounced in, and troubled you with some funny and tough formulas and calculations.

I recall this fateful day. The day when I, the form two red class prefect. Reminded our maths teacher Mr. Kingi, about the Kiswaahili assignment. Our Kiswahili teacher, who’s also the drama patron, had given us a task to undertake during his next lesson. He was attending the drama national festivals in Nakuru. He hence wouldn’t attend that class. Immediately the bell signaling the start of Kiswahili lesson rang, Mr Kingi flew in, almost panting. My attempt to remind him of the said assignment saw me dabbed unruly. I think I can never forget that day. The principal flogged me properly.

Anyway, we love you so much. You Maths and Chemistry teachers. And all other teachers. Because you moulded us. And imparted knowledge into us. By the way when we (students) say we hate you, it means you are working. And when we love you, it also means you are working.

You sacrificed your pleasures, just to attend our morning and evening preps. You also created your own time during odd hours, to teach us one or two things. Kudos. SIGALAME SCHOOL STAFF. Twawashukuru sana. And tell those boys to read.

CC (Mr Were, Mr Opiyo (left), Mr Makheti, Were Mr, Mr Dalala, The late Obwogo, Mr Masiga, Ms Ochwilla, Mr Ndachule, Mr Osinya, Mr Alando, Mr Ounga, Mr Okwero (left), Mr Akali (left) , Mr Aziz, Madam Susan, Madam Khakasa, Mr Bala (left) , Mr Miyembe (left) Mr Machio, Mr Okwako, Mr Odima (left), Rev Wanjala, Mr Sumba (left), Mr Odemba (left), Mr Ingati, Mr Machyo (left), Madam Jennifer, Mr Bwire (left) , Madam Consolata (left), Madam Okumu, Madam Apondi, Mr Mang’eni, Mr Barasa.

Finally, cc Old boys.

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15 thoughts on “back in high school

  1. Wow! “Like informing Duale he’s part of Eurobond” hehe I like the way relate the real life situations creatively

  2. A nice piece. I’m hypnotized by your introduction and the body. A few concerns…italize the word ‘escort’ since its application here is classically vulgarized. Check on the word ‘Kiswahili’, herein expressed in its emended version.

  3. Thank you for this piece! It seems to me the author is a journalist in training! Your choice of words are very uncommon:Hallway, jerked,……and the tone just makes this write up a must read!!! And once again kudos to those who taught me, the year ending 2005!!!

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