After my pineapple project joined the likes of Nyayo projects in failing and after
Mzee Viboko nationalized all other projects I was left with only two
occupations.
1. To involuntary provide free compulsory labour to Mzee's farm and
2. Concentrate with my education.
By that time bwana Emilio, the former university don, was not residing in
state house and therefore education was not free.
Not that I was the one paying the fees, but it's the frequent reminders
that, money was being paid that I did not like. Mzee would always remind us of
how many bottles of beer he would fore go to keeps us in school. The situation
would be worse when he was not pleased by the contents of some form called the
report card at the end of the term.
I accuse the bald old man of many failures but on education I give him an
A. Education to date is like an obsession to him. I remember one night he came
home drunk (some coffee pay day or something) woke us up to clap for him
because he had settled all our school fees. He would have sung for us R.Kelly's
The world greatest but his favourite
genre was different - traditional war songs.
For the village boy I was going to school was not fun.
The school was about 3 km away from home and we were expected to be there
by 7 am.
Tough indigenous grass that withstood foot traffic had encroached into
the road reducing it to a mere footpath. Our bear feet had to endure the
freezing morning dew every school day. For your information in Pitasana you
would be stigmatised for wearing shoes. It wasn’t cool to be in shoes. Of
course a ploy by those who lacked a pair to intimidate the lucky ones out of attar
jealousy. Those who would go against this order would be isolated as if they
had some drug resistant tuberculosis.
Whatever we called a bell would be struck at 15 minutes to 7.00 am and at
7.00 am. This was some old vehicle rim hanged on a tree next to the staff room
and a heavy metal rod to strike it. Physical strength was one of the
qualifications for bell ringers. If by the second stroke of this piece of metal
you would not have been seated in classroom, your day would be doomed. The
teacher on duty would be waiting for you at the gate with a cane at hand to
inflict pain in your near freezing hands. To date I have never understood the
strong urge by rural primary school teachers to course suffering to pupils.
A very good example was one Mr Getaweru the pupil's number one enemy.
Being the discipline master and eying the headmaster's job, his week was a
nightmare. Rumours were also doing the rounds that his wife was from Nyeri and
he was therefore projecting his domestic woes to the pupils.
I met him at Mathingira my favorite bar in Mungethu last month and I
realized that my attitude toward him has never changed. I was with my friend Kiuni
and kanyotu.
Imagine he had the audacity to attribute our success to his ruthless
canning while at pitasana. (Success in this case is only measured by the
ability to buy bottled brown beer. nothing more).
The meeting never ended well. Kiuni could not stand him. They exchanged
bitter words with Kiuni attributing his premature exit from of school to Gataweru.
Each of us remembers the incidence too well.
While at pitasana Kiuni and Gataweru were never the best of friends. Kiuni's
head did not assimilate much from Gatawerus lessons and he did not give a damn.
He would be the top of the class when the list of individual scores was ordered
from the lowest to the highest. Kiuni was forced to cover every class syllabus
in more than one year. He was the elder and the strongest in the class. The most
enlightened on other areas such as politics, money and relationships. Gataweru on the
other hand in his quest to receive the best performing teacher's award thought
he would use the cane to force his material into Kiuni’s head.
Kiuni had realized his limitations in education and therefore
concentrated on other would be careers. He would do part time shaving at the
local kinyozi, train on bicycles repairs over the weekend and sell Ngumus (doughnuts) to fellow pupils at
break time.
It was in class 7, while in the course of his Ngumu business that he met Gataweru’s wrath. Bringing to an end his
education.
Kiuni had sneaked out of school to get his Ngumu supplies at Mungethu when he crossed Gataweru’s path. When challenged
to stop he dropped his wares and fled hoping that Gataweru had not identified
him. Gataweru went after him but could not match his speed. Unlike Rudisha though,
kabla amshinde Gataweru Kiuni hakubidi
kungarisha fiatu fyake. He was bare feet to start with.
Gataweru in his wisdom rushed back to school and ordered the watchman to
deliverer to him any pupil who showed his face at the school's gate. He then
picked his teaching aids a cane among them and came to class 7 for a science
lesson.
When Kiuni saw Gataweru he panicked. Gataweru got suspicious and asked
him.
"Ahh I see u are back?”
“I am not the one". Foolish Kiuni replied
Gateweru pounced on him with all manner of blows and dragged him out towards to the Headmasters office. When Kiuni realized the kind of shit he was in, did what Gataweru would not have expected. He gave him a well deserved punch on the face, freed himself and fled.
"Ahh I see u are back?”
“I am not the one". Foolish Kiuni replied
Gateweru pounced on him with all manner of blows and dragged him out towards to the Headmasters office. When Kiuni realized the kind of shit he was in, did what Gataweru would not have expected. He gave him a well deserved punch on the face, freed himself and fled.
That was his last day in school.
Gataweru missed school for two days due to Kiuni's black eye.
Njagi Munyi
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