Unveiled

Chapter two: Tiempos difíciles impresionantes

  'I want to become a doctor!'...This statement put a smile on my mum's face as she fitted me with the new shoes; she had bought at the stores at Chwele market. Very few people could afford shoes at that time and the ones who owned a pair were treated like princes. I was set to join the lower primary at a school my sister was being transferred to. She was previously studying at Khachonge Primary school (The best of that time). Joy land Academy at Chwele was her next school. I was happy and confused at the same time anticipating for a new life that people always talked about. Having porridge whenever I cried and playing around with my fellow kids was what made me yearn for more than just school.

Chwele is some kilometers away from home. Mum hired a boda boda guy who picked us up every morning and dropped us at school. 'Simakulu' was by then married with one kid and was staying at Chwele. Mum therefore resolved to taking us there so that we could stay with our big sister. She was staying some few yards away from school and that would make our journey short and convenient. With my new uniform and a back pack I was bought, I walked around like any rich kid would do and bragged along with other 'able' kids about the many lucrative things we ever owned. I did not like the fact that there were other kids who had much to tell about their families and even others owned the moving boxes.

'Simakulu' was sweet at first and she would wake us up, give us the 5-litre water bucket and instructed us to take a shower. We were bright enough to just wash our faces and the visible parts of our body since water was an issue at that time in Chwele. Once in a while she would give us five shillings for our lunchbreak and instruct us to use it well since money was not picked or plucked from trees. I was enrolled to baby class but later on in the day taken to nursery school since my behavior was way passed those small kids. I already had a girlfriend in nursery school and my five shillings served her well. She was called Elizabeth. Her father was one of the richest men of that time since he owned a car. Elizabeth had liked me on the first day I joined Joy land. She gave me her pencil; HB, which was a rare species by then. I started going to school very early in the morning to wait up for her. Nursery school was amazing.

I cannot remember the name of our teacher but she was this saved lady who could make us believe in the existence of heaven and hell. I'm the only kid who never cared whether I went to heaven or hell. This was what made me unique. However, Elizabeth was so much concerned about that and asked me to choose between heaven and hell. For the sake of my love for her, I had to choose what she wanted; Heaven. She was so happy that at some point we will be in heaven together. It wasn't long after my confession to Elizabeth when the teacher came with The Book of Life! It contained the names of the children who were to go to heaven and those who wouldn't go to heaven. She made us believe that God had brought her the book overnight and wanted her to show us the names. All the other kids were stroked with panic wondering whether or not they will make it in that book. Really? A book from God? How?

Either way, it was her time to frighten the uninformed individuals. I took it casually until she finished reading the names. Elizabeth was standing with the other kids at the front of the class. They were the ones chosen to go to heaven. We were five of us remaining. I cannot remember their names but I have never forgotten their traits. One boy was always the sleepy head of our class. He was told that if he quit sleeping, he might go to heaven. Poor boy! He almost got dehydrated because of crying all day long imagining how he would survive in hell. He couldn't stop crying until they edited the names and confirmed to him that God had forgiven him and he actually will be the first one in our class to go to heaven.

That same day Elizabeth stopped talking to me. I bet the teacher warned her about me and associating with kids that will go to hell. This made me cry like the smallest toddler in the lower primary with a running nose for the whole day. I cried even louder when I realized Elizabeth was staring at me but that could not change her mind. I think God had given her the strength to move on so fast after our impromptu break up. I became sick and emaciated since I lost the friends I had and much worse, my girlfriend. Apart from the stress in school, my big sister had now become so rough and mean. She couldn't give us the five shillings she used to give us and some other times we were subjected to severe beating in case something got lost. One day she almost drowned me when she lost track of her 'omena 'that she had bought that day. I was innocent. She looked in my eyes and asked, 'where is my 'omena'? 'Omena' is what we used to call fingerlings and they were so precious.

That, she asked with her poor Swahili ascent dropping several unavoidable slaps on my already weak back. I wasn't given time defend myself. That day we were denied supper and slept on an empty stomach until the next day when she got the packet of 'omena' under the seat. Our cat had made away with it and did not manage to eat it all. It was sad. She never apologized for having beaten me mercilessly for something I had not done. She just told us to be more keen next time lest the cat carries away our other meals. I wished a lot of bad things to her that day; if only I could remember one of them now!

How we survived living with Nanjala within a year is still a miracle. Mum came along for visiting at the end of the year and almost fainted. Her children were 'not hers'. The faces were the only thing that made her realize we were actually her kids. She couldn't think twice, she organized for two boda boda guys who dropped us back at home in Khachonge. A big relief to us and of course to our 'Simakulu' who was finding it hard to feed us all. We were malnourished and all that could save our health was food; not food for thought, like, real food. Mum tried her level best. Before that year ended, we had gained much weight and were ready to have a new start. My feeding habits were now so much scary as I tried to regain my initial body frame. I destroyed several plates of 'githeri' in a day and drank at least four big cups of porridge. 'Eat my son, eat.' That was an encouraging statement from my mum which made me confident of what I was doing. It wasn't so long when we were completely fit again, up for the next year.

Dad was still drinking and once in a while he requested me to go with his bicycle and fetch some valuables in a 10 liter can. His story is a long one, I could make three books! That night I requested mum to look for another school since going back at Chwele was scaring me. Joy land academy is todays date Kings Junior Academy (The best school of all time).