SUNDAY BEST

SUNDAY BEST

THE SUNDAY BEST.

I loved high school. Kapsaa

For the record, I went to a secondary school. Most of you believe I went a high school. You think too highly of me. I will never forget such kind a gesture. But it was really a secondary school, in the heart of Siaya County.

If you are a jang’o, its SEKONDRI! Don’t argue with me.

Our school was gisty, though. Very much unlike that road – side village kiosk that @theMagunga went to, in the name of a school. He  went to Maranda Mixed Boys Day and Night Secondary High School Preparatory Academy.

Unlike schools that give themselves useless self importance because they are on some patch of Waiyaki Way opposite a firm like Deloitte, or change that to a forest somewhere on Ngong Road after the Nairobi Race Course, Our school was in the heart of a village. People centered education.

Sundays were some of the best days in that Sekondri school. After short church service led by teenage devils called prefects, we had permission to go roam wherever, around in the villages and markets, or in Kampala, Uganda. Or Dar es salaam, Tanzania. Your choice. But only in full school uniform, and up until Four PM, the official time. They called it ‘Outing.’ Every Sunday. Religiously.

Ati for social skills. To market ourselves to local girls selling groundnuts and KDFs on behalf of their grandmothers. But 4:00pm was the latest you should be in school. If you wanted. But you had to be in school by midnight. Or at 2:00am. Or 3:00am, or even 4:00am, if you wanted. Just be ready for manual work by 6:30am.

This one time, a Sunday, some guys decided they would spend their entire afternoon at a chang’aa den. They were just bragging how they were going to wipe the floor with their tongues. They ate a good Sunday lunch, Ugali and Ndondo. They ate a double portion. And then they went to the edge of the field. Waka blaze kiasi. Alafu wakaingia chuom Fulani nyuma ya chuo, wanaunza ng’ang’o! Wuewueh!

The mixologist on that day alikuwa amejichocha yake yote. Ka mbaya mbaya. Iko nini? Because the shots were on fayaaaaaaaa.

You check in, she gives you a welcome tot on bottle top, you flash it down one time, you place the bottle top on the table and you black out. For real. For like ten minutes.

Ukiamka, she asks you, ‘Hii inaweza ama haiwezi?’ Ukisema ‘Haiwezi,’ you just place your ten bob on the table, you wipe your mouth, and you go, never speaking of what you have seen again.  If you say Inaweza, 250ml patila on the table for you, at 50 bob. These coconuts said inaweza.

These guys never came back to school. Not while we were awake, anyway. In the morning, when we woke up, kuna wasee 46, asleep on the floor, all over.

Two guys sijui inside one bucket, mara another one is in a basin, another one on top of somebody’s school box, cup, spoon or a plate. Another one has tandikad a bed sheet and covered himself with a mattress. All blacked out.

So, of course we are wondering, is how? Who are these guys, how did they get into the school. Kidogo kidogo we see the watchie is also on the floor with them. Out. Covering himself with two people.

What the hell? I kid you not.

It’s Monday morning. So we amsha the schoolmates faster faster before the teacher on duty arrives. Only one is responsive. He ‘s struggling to speak, and it’s allgibberish, exactly how those pesky irritating overly drunk guys speak. We check in there like the FBI.

FBI: Boss, are you ok?

Drunk Dude: Ulopa niko poa? Come give me a hug. Nakupenda, Ja Malanga. I love you.

FBI: Who are these guys you came with?

DD: Which ones?

FBI: Hawa wasee mumebleki nao?

DD: Be specific. Niulize mmoja mmoja. I cant only process simple arithmetic currently.

By the way, this guy is a crazy mathematician, works as a specialist doctor assigned to top govt officials now.

ME: Huyu ni nani? (We point to the guy closest to him.)

DD: Aaaaah, Huyu ni brathangu.

Me: Ok. Na ule?

DD: Huyo ni brathake?

FBI: Seriously? Dude???

DD: Unaona ule, (pointing to a moth on the wall) Ule ni bratha sistake.

FBI: Why would you bring these people to the dorm, you know it’s not safe?

DD: I know. Nina wajui nyinyi watu. That’s why we came with the watchman to protect us.

Me: Why are you like this???? Do you really even know these guys?

DD: Yep. We are all brathash here. Kose awache marach? (Luo for, ama I am misrepresenting you?)

All of them wake up and respond in a chorus, ‘Uko sawa buda. Uko sawa.’ And then they black out again.

Tuliwaacha hapo. Mmoja tu ndio alijaribu kukula sabuni ya mtu waka- shikana mashati.

They left after a two days of pure sleep. And we could hear them sing from that lady’s house as soon as they left. How the administration never knew, beats me to this day.

END.

Paushinski

Creative Writer | Photographer | Filmmaker

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. Outing was a great thing save for the many times we got caught doing “unouting” things.

    1. Hahaha… You were busted?

      How???

      The man card has been revoked!

  2. “Unlike schools that give themselves useless self importance because they are on some patch of Waiyaki Way opposite a firm like Deloitte…”haha!
    Nice one Pau!
    Keep it up! Always something to look forward to on Mondays!

    1. BIG BALA… Kijana ya Wenger.

      Hahaha, Thanks homie. For always.

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