In
my eagerness and riotous act to get out of bed, I stepped on manager who I think was praying or
something. I expected him to get up and bark at me or even worse flatten me to
the wall besides us. I was quick with my "Pole! Pole! Izah Msee!” He just raised
an arm and waved it away. Phew... I just liked him more. I was short in high
school. So I was used to getting banged up every time I missed my step bullies
n stuff... So you can imagine I still had that reflex. I didn't know him. But
from the look of his body, he looked like the kind of people who would beat you
to a pulp when threatened.
I confirmed he was praying when he stood calmly and said good morning to me in an unexpected calm voice.
I confirmed he was praying when he stood calmly and said good morning to me in an unexpected calm voice.
“Tulia
msee, hizi vitu hutokea”. I felt better.
“Si
twende chai basi...”
He
was barely audible. He was the kind of people who loose their voices overnight,
and he sounded funny. I hadn't known where the bathrooms were but from the look
of things, they were located outside. This was just another school. Dormitory
style accommodation. Only that it didn't have the cubicles and it did not have an
in-house sanitary system. I saw people coming inside with towels wrapped round
their waists. Huh... So we have tidiness freaks round here as well… I had
experienced these back in high. Those people who took showers in the morning,
over lunch hour and in the evening. They also washed shirts, and trousers after
every wear - Not that they didn't have others. No. They had two weeks’ worth of
uniform pairs. Hmmm... they also arranged
their boxes or lockers every day before they slept, some looked like
shopkeepers counting the closing stock in the evening, with hands full of
biscuit boxes, different flavors of juice and tubs of marmalade, butter and
what have you for bread and blah blah blah. The only time I took showers over
lunch hour at the expense of lunch was the times in between May and Aug. These
months happened to be within the music festival season. One reason why I took a
shower at that time of the day was because it was cold – the cold season... and
eerrr... Yeah too cold to shower at odd hours... Supplementary reasons aside, the
reason I took showers over lunch was because probably that day we would be
going to Mary Hill Girls for Choir
practice and would obviously be meeting my girlfriend later. I needed to be
neat.
Back
to this new life. So... I wondered what were these people trying to show us
huh... With such low temperatures at Eldoret at dawn and someone could try to
take a shower ha ha... Over my dead body! I passed by the tap and wet my hands
and passed my superior finger over the morning-face hotspots... Around the
eyes, and the mouth blah blah. There was no need to comb my hair. I would brush
my teeth later (Which I never did by the way, with whose water? The ice cold
water I experienced. Not on my teeth). Breakfast was served....coffee in the
essential tins 1.3 liters. Half a loaf of bread and two eggs... Ahaaa... So this was a
fattening camp huh... My stomach was grumbling with anxiety and greed already,
the wait in line felt like a walk from Ole Sereni to the CBD (Because I have
walked this distance – Trust me). You know how that combination works... So I
picked my half loaf of bread. I found myself a spot and I am sure if you
attended a Kenyan high school, you know the relationship between half a loaf of
bread or more and an egg... I used to do that on my lucky days... We used to
call it "kufinya" – I believe
it’s the standard term countrywide. I didn't get many of these kufinya opportunities back in high
school. But here is the thing... You split the loaf laterally... Or
longitudinally depending on how you preferred it. Since I prefer having
the top crust in equal proportions with every bite, I split it to ensure that
the crust goes with every chomp. It's flavor in itself. There was the spread… I
know we called it “Blueband” but just like Omo
is a term Kenyans agreed would refer to all powder detergents, so is Blue band
for all fatty - yellowish looking spreads on loaf. This was Croma – Best spread ever, for
institutions. I had scooped it with my "clean" superior fingers, that
I had by then wrapped with a piece of nylon. I spread it to the best of my
ability with my fingers on the unevenly slit loaf – because I used by thumbs to
crack it open, the way you would crack a chicken’s breast. I then went ahead to
peel the over boiled egg, big chunks of egg white peeling off with the shell.
This would ordinarily be painful to the extent of eating the white off the
shell like you would eat the flesh off a passion fruit. In this case however, I
had two eggs. I almost mocked that egg. Again since there was no spoon or knife
to cut the eggs into nice pieces, I just squished them with my fingers and
covered the mess with the top part of the loaf that had the crust. To complete
the ritual was the compressing itself. Here you press the poor loaf and its foreign
content like there is no tomorrow so as to obtain a nice thin, sandwich looking
burger tasting slice/ chunk/ baked flour or whatever.
Now...
Back to the coffee... Life can be unfair, aki! Too unfair that the first time I
tasted or tried tasting the content of the mess tin – The essential tin, I
never made it... It’s alluminium!!! It's like trying to drink from a Sufuria.
What!!!! Did my lips get burnt!!! I was even afraid to try a second time. The
worst thing is swallowing the cold lump of air and pretending you took a
healthy tasty sip from that piece of metal! That is how I decided to prioritize
the loaf pimping. So now, same tin five minutes later and my coffee was as cold
as the morning breeze itself. As much as I don't take content that is too hot
because of the metallic elements of my teeth, this was too much. But I couldn't
chomewa here. (I am hoping you understand
what ‘kuchomewa’ means) I looked at
the line and it was almost half a kilometer long. I bashed on my ‘enhanced’
loaf and by the time I left that area I was almost dizzy. Overfeeding! On
second thought let me explain “Kuchoma”, Slang for topping up a client’s tea
cup for a valid reason in a local hotel. I.e. could be your tea is cold, the
waitress is in love with you, or like in the case at San Bistro a while back, ‘the tea is too concentrated’. Whichever way that
works to get your tea cup refilled. As long as the host is in good moods.
Back
to my bed and I packed my bag and strapped it on my back. It was already
lightening up and as per the last word last evening, we were to assemble at the
same place we spent the previous day. I headed to the field and sat on the
stands and watched as people, filled with anxiety and fear streamed into
the field, later to learn they were called the holy grounds. Reasons later. The
moment I sat in those stands, I realized that I hadn't had enough sleep, or was
it the eggs? I decided to tuck my hands in my sleeves and bury my head in
between my thighs and complete the sleep I so badly felt harassing me.
Next Episode :)
Next Episode :)
Hi. Same Old Drama, Different Day. This blog is about me and others, nature, life, blah blah and why everything I like is great even the hurting - still great. If you disagree with anything you find on this page, Well. . . You are probably right..
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