SINGING BEAUTY

 I thought about a girl I went to high school with. In our teenage and ignorant eyes, she
was average at best as far as looks were concerned. Few of us had ever heard her
speak because she often kept to herself, and it's safe to say she was invincible, going
through life with the self-doubt of a girl lacking in confidence. 

One Sunday during service, she went forward and said she wanted to sing. Her voice
was trembling and murmurs rushed through the whole room, some stifling their
laughter and some snorting in that way people snort when they feel you are just about
to waste their time. 

Were we not in the presence of The Lord, we would have jeered her off the stage so
she can allow the 'beautiful' girls to grace us with their presence so we can imagine
doing things to them as they sang for the Lord. 

"Don't listen to the voice, listen to the words," she said, and we all sighed, because
anyone who started with that statement could not be relied upon to entertain anyone. 

Then she sang. 

And sang. 

And sang. 

Her voice rising higher and higher as if she wanted to make sure God in heaven
missed neither her voice nor words. 

I remember looking around and suddenly the room wallowed in a new-found respect. I
could feel we were all drowning in our guilt because none of us had given this girl a
chance. 

When she sang the last words she got a standing ovation, and then we begged her to
sing again, and again, and since then she became a darling to the entire school and
she always sang for us until the day she sat for her last paper. 

But one thing is for sure, that simple act of her stepping on that stage not only put us
to shame, but it made sure she left that school a different person. A confident person.
And a respected person. 

Because sometimes, all you need to do in life when you feel lost and defeated, is to
simply step on that stage and sing.

            LOST SHOE Pt.1

 High school. We woke up one morning to tantrums being thrown against the
dormitory walls. Amos, the tallest guy in form two, had just lost his shoe and he was
not taking this heinous crime lightly. 
“Whoever took that shoe should return it immediately if he knows what’s good for
him,” he warned.

We all sat up on our beds and watched him wag his finger threateningly. Someone
was going to get hurt, he warned. Meanwhile, we were wondering what the thief was
going to do with the one shoe. 

When the thief did not return the shoe, Amos went home and the next day came with
some leaves, which he put inside the remaining shoe and pushed it under his bed. The
thief, he said, was going to crawl back with the other shoe eating grass. 

“Is it the thief that will be eating grass or the shoe?” someone we all suspected was
the thief asked.

“If you think this is a joke, wait till tomorrow comes.”

That night anxiety ruled the air in our dormitory. We had all thought Amos was bluffing
but somehow fear had crept into our hearts. Why didn’t the thief simply return the
shoe? We went to bed and woke up early morning to another tantrum.

It was Amos again, now begging the thief who had crept back and stole the remaining
shoe together with the juju, to please return his shoes because his father was too
poor to buy him another pair.

That thief, ladies and gents, is the real shujaa 😂

              MCHAWI
 
So one time this classmate of mine was caught sneaking out of the lab through the
window. At night. The next time we were on parade, he was summoned in front of
everyone, akasomewa mashtaka and then told, "Now, to the best of my knowledge
and to the best of everyone else's knowledge, only two people can do the kind of
activity you were doing. That is mchawi and mwizi. Of the two, kijana, which one are
you?" 

He stammered. "N-none of the above, Mwalimu." 

"Was none of the above part of the options? Stop wasting our time and tell us whether
wewe ni mchawi ama mwizi. We did not come here to play." 

The boy weighed his options and whispered, "mchawi, Mwalimu."

"What happened to your voice? Can you speak louder?" 

"MCHAWI, MWALIMU." 😂
              EXECUTION CHAMBER
In high school I was always considered a bad guy, even though I was a good guy. But
no one believed me because I hanged out with the rebels. I was tiny when I joined high
school, so I needed to become friends with guys who would protect me. But the
teachers didn't know that. So when I was in form two, I was suspended alongside ring
leaders of a strike that I did not even participate in. 

When my suspension was over I tagged my grandfather along as I was asked to. As
we waited for our turn outside the Deputy Principal's office, we heard boys screaming
at the top of their voices as the teachers and their parents ganged up on them,
whooping them silly. They came out red eyed. Tears rolling down. Their badassness
squashed and their masculinity castrated. 

One of them even received the last slap from his father before receiving 200 bob for
pocket money. 

It was our turn. 

We walked in confidently. I knew I was innocent. And my grandfather believed me.

Nikasomewa mashtaka of inciting the entire school to strike. 

"Your son here, small as he is, is bad news. Even teachers fear him. His crew is made
of bhang smokers. Huyu kijana atachoma shule siku moja," the deputy principal said.
"On the day of the strike, he chased me, wanting to kill me!" 

Now, what happened was, I jumped over the fence and ran for my dear life as
everyone else. Our deputy principal happened to be ahead of me. He mulikad me with
his torch before accelerating. I was bad news, after all. 

I denied the charges and my grandfather asked, "Who saw him incite the other
students? No one? Who mentioned his name as one of the ring leaders from the
students you have grilled in here? No one? Mwalimu, no offence, but look at yourself

😂
and look at this boy, are you really trying to convince us that this boy can beat you to
death?" The DP had a kitambi

"My grandson is innocent and I am angry that you suspended him for no reason, made
him miss classes, and made me leave my farm unattended to come listen to this
nonsense!" 

He shot them down. And declared I was not going to weed any flowers as
punishment. 

He became my hero from that day. 

And the deputy principal my enemy. That DP hated me with passion and after a small
disagreement in form four, he banned me from his CRE class. 

I scored an A in CRE. 

And my grandfather asked if I could consider becoming a Reverend. 😂

Reverend Ndung'u, everybody!

       
                 LOST SHOE Pt.2
        
  So, this form one woke up to a lost shoe. The thief, grappling in the dark, had only
made away with one shoe, and the form one was livid. He said, "You people don't
know me that well. Whoever stole my shoe should return it when they still have a
chance. You people don't know who my grandfather is!" 

Those who knew him and his grandfather claimed the old man was the go to guy if
thieves visited you. He made thieves eat grass while crawling on their knees. Panic
swept across the dormitory. The cowards begged the thief to return the shoe. The
christian union members lifted their eyes to face the mountain and rebuked the spirit
of witchcraft. The rest of us prayed the thief doesn't return the shoe so we can see the
action. With everyone wishing for their own outcome, different prayers were lifted to
the Lord. 

The thief did not return the shoe. 

This is how you know high school thieves were hardcores.

Two days later, the form one left for home. He returned on Sunday with what we
imagined was his grandfather's potent charm. Some green leaves and other objects
wrapped in a red cloth. 

He said, "Last warning!" 

A christian said, "We shall not allow witchcraft in our dorm. Theft is bad, but witchcraft
is worse. The Bible says..." 

"No one cares what the Bible says. The boy lost his shoe, so let him do what he has to
do to get it back," shouted some guy with a huge appetite for chaos and violence. 

"I will now put this charm inside the other shoe and by morning you will all see what
happens to the thief," the form one announced, taking us through the process as we
curiously watched on.

That night we barely slept. Someone asked, "Ataanza kula nyasi saa ngapi ndio tujue
tunaamka what time?" 

No one answered. 

By wee hours of the morning we were so tired we fell asleep, only to be woken up by
screams of the form one. We all jumped out of our beds asking, "Ashaanza kula
nyasi?" But the form one was hysterical. We looked around for anyone with grass
sticking from their mouth, but a very calm guy, who we all suspected was the thief,
said, "Hakuna mtu anakula nyasi. Issue ni ati huyo mwizi alirudi kuchukua hiyo kiatu
imebaki pamoja na uganga za huyu jamaa!" He said 'kuchukua,' as if the shoes
rightfully belonged to the thief.

The christians, happy that witchcraft had been defeated, shouted, "Praise Jesus!" 

The rest of us had new respect for the thief and his courage. The form one avoided
eye contact with everyone for the reminder of the term.

                  LOST SHOE Pt.3

 Once, in high school, someone stole a pair of shoes and it was decided that everyone
must swear in the name of God, with a Bible, that they were not the thief. Now, we all
knew the thief, but no one was courageous enough to point fingers. So this was a
highly welcomed idea. 

A Bible the size of Inspector Mwala was brought. A teacher was in on it too, just to
make sure no one skips this very important session. 

The innocent ones were the first ones to raise the Bible. "I Samuel Ndung'u does
swear that I have never stolen and did not steal the shoes. If I did, let God strike me
dead!" 

Excitement started building. All eyes were on the thief, swearing this was his day. One
Innocent person after the other raised the Bible and swore. Tension started building
as everyone now started pointing fingers at the thief openly. Si he was going to be
struck dead anyway? Either that or he refused to swear and our suspicion would be
confirmed. 

"I Elijah Kimani, do swear in the name of the Lord, the mightiest of the mightiest, that I
have never stolen and did not steal the shoes. If I did, may God strike me dead!" 

We clapped. The innocent ones were shining. God was indeed a good God who would
not harm the innocent ones. 

Then the suspected thief stepped forward and took The Bible. Silence fell. We were
about to witness a miracle. Lord of Lords. King of Kings. The Alpha and Omega. The
son and The Holy Spirit. The beginning and the end. Him that we all bow to, was going
to show us why He is God.

"I, so and so," the suspected thief said in the loudest voice, "Do solemnly swear that I
did not steal the shoes. But if I did, may God strike me dead right now!" 

We all looked at the sky for any sign of lightning, but instead someone in the crowd
broke the wind and brought the whole thing to an anti climax. The suspected thief
walked away, almost whistling, as if to mock us. 

No one paid attention to those who swore after him. 😂

                    LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

  A woman is really not beautiful until you feel dizzy when you see her. The first time
this happened is when I saw Esther in their dining hall as we watched some chaps
reenact set books on stage. She was seated across the isle, enjoying the performance
with a smile, and I could not stop staring. This was high school, where everyone was
ugly by default. With schools dressing us like extras in those ancient Rome Movies,
feeding us the worst diet they could come up with and insisting on no fancy hairstyles,
there was no chance for your beauty or handsomeness to show. The really beautiful
ones looked average and the beautiful-at-heart ones looked like bad examples. 

But Esther stood out. Her beauty was defiant, and so I stared until she looked my way
and when we locked eyes and she smiled at me, I turned to my friend and told him he
was going to be my best man. 

God! I fell for that woman. 

The second time I felt dizzy because of too much beauty is when I staggered into
some office in town presenting my form 4 certificates. In that office were three
women. Three gorgeous women. Three women in minis and thighs that made me
stagger back and lean on the wall for support. I was breathless. Those women were
so beautiful I completely forgot what I was there to do. 

And they were smiling, asking how they could be of help. Them? Help me? No, I
wanted to say. I am here to help you. To serve you tea and carry your handbags and
even laugh on your behalf so you don't strain your jaws. 

Those women were so out of my league I wanted to cry. I shuddered for three months
straight when I thought of them. Who was dating these women? What did they do for
a living? Which mountain were they facing while praying? And can you really date such
women without being ordained? Without being called by God? 

Such women make you dislike your father. If he had worked a little bit harder, you
would have a fighting chance.

Such women make you sound like a proper liar when you tell your wife you will choose
her over and over again. No, you won't! You will choose them!

Such women restore your faith in God. 

And they make you feel like perhaps you overestimate your mother.  Makes you want
to repent for all the times you said, "My mother is the most beautiful woman in the
world." Even as a figure of speech, it feels wrong. 

😂
Since then I told God, "Me I just want her to have the beauty the world can see. Her
inner beauty is between you and her, don't involve me!"
After writing about Esther today, I had to take two days break to honour her beauty
while facing Mt. Kenya.

                      MISTAKEN IDENTITY 1

   The devil, really, is a liar. 

Anyway. One time, when I was in form two, we fungad shule and went home to the
news that there was a certain beautiful girl giving boys sleepless nights. She had set
her standards high and was neither willing nor ready to entertain jokers. With all this
info, I decided to join the long queue of admirers and shoot my shot. 

I genuinely expected her to say no. After the first rejection, I told myself, I would try for
the second and then third time, after which I would give up and say at least I tried. So
when I approached her the first time, it was with the confidence of a man who already
knew his fate. Even in the face of her intimidating beauty, I held her hand and told her I
was in love with her and could she be my girlfriend? 

She, without thinking, said yes. 

"What?" 

"I will be your girlfriend." 

"Why? I mean, really?" 

"Kwani you were not serious?" 

"Of course I was serious. Still am." 

Truth is, I had not prepared for this outcome. A no is what I came for and with her yes
I was lost for words. But I managed to take charge of the situation. 

News spread fast that I got the girl. And I was a hero. 

One day she said, "Si next time try and bring some past papers for me?" 

"Past papers?" 

"Yes. I hear you guys are not allowed to come home with your past papers but si you
can sneak them out for me?" 

I was not sure what she was talking about. Who did not allow us to come home with
past papers? It was all confusing and so I said, "No need to wait for next time. I can
get you some tomorrow." 

"Really?"
"Yes." 

"So they started allowing you guys to take them home with you?" 

"Sweetheart, who are they?" 

She was beginning to make it feel like I studied in some secret society underground
school. 

"Your school administration, of course. I hear the exams you guys sit for are the same
that come during KCSE." 

I was convinced she was mad. But she was beautiful, so I was ready to live with her
madness. 

The next day when I brought her the past papers, the smile on her face quickly
changed to a frown and without wasting time she told me she had come to a decision
that this relationship will simply not work. She needed to focus on her studies and, on
second thought, she did not need my past papers. 

Turns out all along the girl thought I was a student at Pumwani Boys High School
because our uniforms almost looked alike and we shared the PBHS abbreviation.

😂
When she found out, thanks to the past papers, that I was actually a member of some
nondescript high school, it was time to say it's not you it's me .

                    SECOND IN COMMAND

   I saw the story of the boy who was dropped at Maranda School with a chopper and
laughed. People are said sijui ati ooh, he will find it difficult to fit in. But I don't know of
any high school kid that wants to fit in. When we were in high school, the goal was to
stand out like a tenant who has lost their house key. Gangster points mattered more
than education itself, and that's why one Sunday, while reopening, I begged my uncle
to drop me to school with his car. 

He offered me fare, which was more than the pocket money I ever received, but I told
him there were things far more important in life than money. 

"I will take the money, but please drive me to school. I want to arrive!" 

And so he did. On Sunday evening. When almost everyone else had arrived on their
boda bodas and other poor people's means of transport. And when we arrived, all
eyes on me, I did my best to take my time offloading my shopping from the car. 

I was already a gangster in school, and my gangster points were now at premium,
ready to be redeemed. It's important to note that in our entire school, not more than
five parents owned cars, and of these, none dropped their kids to school. Not even
one teacher, except our principal, owned a car. So at that moment in time I was
second in command in that school. The unofficial deputy principal. How I was not
 😂
allowed to address the assembly for the rest of the term can only be blamed on
jealousy and injustice.  

I walked with swagger the entire term, my lungs inflated with air of importance.

Meanwhile, the girls in our school were fanning themselves in excitement, but at that
moment, and I was shocked they needed to be told, they were not my type. 

My eyes were set on Sanaipei Tande.

    

                   VANITY

   I miss writing love letters. I miss those days when, in high school, I would write love
letters for 20 Bob with a promise of 20 Bob more if the girl said yes. And they always
said yes. I once wrote a love letter for this guy and he refused to pay the extra 20 bob
after the girl wrote back, saying yes. 

When we went for the set books thingy in their school, I walked over to the girl as she
was giving all the glory to the guy for a beautiful letter, and said I actually wrote it. 

She dumped him for me. 

He threatened to kill me. 

And now she's just invited me to her wedding. And, oh, I am not the groom. Vanity, I
tell you.

                             LOVE IS LOVE

    Love made one of the most hardcore guys I knew in high school stand in front of
everyone during our Church Service and proclaim, "Kwanzia Leo, Mimi si Joel tu, Ila
Mimi ni Joel wa Yesu!" 

We could not believe it. This guy had been suspended so many times the school
administration did not bother anymore. He drank like fish. Smoked everything that can
be smoked and fought anyone that looked at him in a funny way. Then he fell in love
with the CU chair lady and he gave his life to Jesus. 

Amen? 

😂
I know there's that toxic guy who, a few minutes ago, just sent that, "Caro, what can I
do to show that I love you? I can change, Caro."

No need to be embarrassed. Love is love.

                             MAUREEN
     So in high school I bag myself a girl called Maureen. She enters my box faster than
I expected given how stiff competition was, only for her to start asking for my past
papers. 
"Past papers?" 

"Yes. Si we are supposed to help each other? I know you guys are not allowed to leave
school with your past papers but pleeeeease, babe, do it for me?" 

I told her I will not only bring her past papers but future papers too, if that's what it will
take for our love to flourish. But as soon as I got her the papers, she ghosted me.
Kabisa-kabisa. Then she sent her emissaries to warn me to stay away from her. 

"Maureen alidhani wewe ni boy wa Lenana School kumbe ni uniform zinafanana?" 😂

Bure kabisa.