Come early morning and our journey began. These would be a treacherous long walk through the dense and dangerous 'ngai ndeithia'(lord help me) forest. My grandmother had told me eerie tales about marauding killer gangs that waylaid passersby and clobbered them to smithereens. Together we gridded,two boys,an old wooden box carrying my lifetime assets,a paper bag with old tattered (Sunday best) clothes,a reluctant and confused chicken and an old pair of boots that previously belonged to my uncle. Between us was a just a step but between our ears was a dream,thoughts of a blissful life,a dream of freedom from the dreadful life;working as herds boys far away from these place we called home . Never would we return.
The only sound along that cold ,misty ,dark path was of dogs barking like zombies.Who was scared of anything when the distance between freedom and despair was covered by bravery!As the night eased and dawn arose the new dream refined.
By dawn we had reached a center called 'Shauri',a shorter version of the name 'Shauri yako' which can be loosely translated to mean -you're on your own. Between shauri and Nyahururu was these dense forest. I was 11years old,crossing these forest meant a new life. It was now or never.
What happened next would shape my life completely..
As i walked passed the gate of Njabini Boys High school I saw some boys playing football in the pitch. I noticed a thin , tall boy,who can be described as resembling a dry desert twig playing as a defender .I reckoned he came from our home town. Later I knew they nick named him 'Naivasha', beside him was another short plump guy who also came from our home town nicknamed 'Mwangi Gathee'. Some boys were cheering by the edge while others basked in the sun. On a lonely corner some book wormer read a big book.(not Waweru 'Ninja')
I decide to carry my tiny green metallic box straight to the office but before I could say 'Jadara'; Mbūku (a notoriously funny character) pounced on me. In tow was other boys eager to welcome me to my new home for the next four years..in the meantime Tsavo dorm would be my temporary home. Here I met gentle souls.One of them was a tall ,lanky boy who later became a scout and a taekwondo enthusiast called Wagunya.
I hoped for a smooth induction into secondary school however, Mbūku and his pack of boys had a different idea. Right there on the pitch they raided my box looking for valuables, edibles and smokeables. My loaf of bread(those we used to call mkate uncle due to their hugeness) was gone in seconds. I was forced to exchange my new uniform and pair of shoes with old ones. In fact the pair of shoes I was given was one black and one white.
Luckily I had visited my brother who was a student here the previous year during the long Kenyatta day holidays. I had spent two nights in the school with the boys. I had carried some swimming gear and during the weekend some boys took me to Sasumua dam for swimming. These boys were daring and fearless. They followed no rules. My brother was nicknamed 'Tintin' (these was due to his small size. In these group of 'Nikobes' were other small boys like Toi ,Wairimu and Tiny) .He was well known ,these and my previous visit saved me from further torture. A form four guy recognized me and alerted Tintin who came and rescued me.
We walked to the office to enable me report to high school officially.( Note that it was on a Saturday afternoon and i was unaccompanied and only three weeks to end of first term).Here I was standing near the parade, a new joka (form one newbie)as disheveled as a vagabond. Gūmai gave me one look as he puffed his classical cigarette and knew exactly what misery had befell me.
'Which boys have done these to you?' he asked nonchalantly in that unmistakable Guyanese accent,as if he was speaking through his nose My brother mumbled some names. The culprits were soon summoned. My friend,let me tell you from a witness point of view. The slaps that flew on their faces were like lightening. Mr Gūmai then lifted them via their ears,holding on them like vices from a grotesque crab horror movie. Watching the pain was nauseating. Inwardly I was smiling, revenge is best served hot .The pack of boys were commandeered to return all my stuff with a stern warning not to monoilize me again. Least did I know we would soon meet again as I was ushered to my dorm ,Tsavo......to be continued...
Ben was these character from Gīthabai or was it Karangatha .He was infamous for reporting to school with a size 9 shoe despite been a size 6...find out why..
Meantime there's an account for supporting Mr.Oliver.Please let us support these astute academician.(He has since gone to be with his ancestors May he R.I.P)
As I settled in the dorm Mbūku and and his pack of boys were stealthy watching me like a troop of baboons zeroing on a cobra in Kikopey. I could catch a glimpse of them through the corner of my eye. I felt like a previously caged gazelle just released at the middle of a pride of lions in the Maasai Mara.
Where was Mr. Oliver to rescue me again. I was trapped like a mouse in a cage. I no where to hide.
However before I continue let me tell you about Mr Oliver the predecessor of Mr .Talibong.
Still I recall with nostalgia the many parade days Mr. Oliver would lecture us,albeit to hammer some sense into our heads. My favorite quote from him was, 'take care of the seconds and, the minutes will take care of themselves'. He meant that if you take care of the little things , you won't worry of the major ones. Do you have a favorite quote from Mr.Oliver. Feel free to share it with the group.
......to be continued.
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