October 23, 2018

Horizon: A Stolen Boyhood 4


By Mwangi Macharia

Happy, confused, proud, humbled this is the generous mixture of events that I felt ranging through my system. I knew not how to react. I had made it papa. Confidence began to take toll as the head teacher read out my name. Her voice was steady, her shoulders relaxed, her breasts pointed threateningly, her curvatures well displayed. Her hair was kinky but she was the kind of woman who knew how to do it. She had trimmed her hair to an afro box style. Her eyes were neatly lined with eye pencil that that toned well with her light skin. She was damn beautiful papa, were she my age I would have made my move.

My name was read. I was number one. Muthoni had already been called she was number two. Her radiant smile illuminated my path as gloomy eyes followed me all the way to the front. I cared less about the rest. At least I had a friend papa. One who was proud of my success. I wonder how you would have reacted. I had never been on top of the class. I took me two years to finally move from just an average student to a bright one. But I must confess Mr. Mukandi my science and mathematics teacher was instrumental to this.

The entry to my third year in Kamagambo Primary school was as challenging as the rest of the time. Rejection from the majority was still there. But this I had made peace with papa. The most worrying things that even the teachers cared less about me. Papa I remember once eaves dropping on a teacher discussing I and mama. They called me a fatherless brat and a womanizer. To start with I knew not what those two meant but from the tone I knew they were insults. Is it not interesting how we claim to build others yet we tear them apart in their absence? That evening I went to the house and asked mama what they two phrases meant. She shed tears and embarrassed me. To my ear she whispered “you are none of the two.” I nodded in agreement. She then cautioned me harshly against insulting people. But who cared, paps?

They did not have to love me for me to make it. Mama had always told me that every morning and reminded me to always love others though they might not love back. It was hard papa. She always told me that even after what you did she still loved you. Deep inside I saw a fool who left a woman who loved him in search of greener pastures. Guess they were right to say that grass is greener on the other side. But truth be told the greenness of the grass does not determine its sweetness. I always hoped for her to be happy again.

My entry to class three was an event changer. I met Mr Mukandi. A fine young man. Well built, always sharp. It did not matter what he wore he still looked amazing. His charisma was attractive to all. I wonder whether mama suffered goose bumps when they met on opening day. He was different. He cared less about ones origin or past experiences all he was after is to give us an experience that would be life changing. Papa I hoped daily that you would be anything close to this but yet again he did not seem to be among those who are in the forsaking alliance as you.

Well, due to your absence mama had to pick me up from school each day. One of the week’s Mr Mukandi was on duty and as usual the teacher on duty was to stay with the students until the parent came. The first day was as normal same as the second and the third. But the forth thing began to change. He began to help me with my assignments. He would buy sweets and give them to me to share out with the rest as we stayed in wait for our parents. This was so sweet of him I thought. Only for me to realize that it was not only me but mama too thought the same.

Her face wold radiate whenever they met. They would exchange smiles and the silence in between was mutual but I know that there was a communication in their hearts. Well papa I thought that this would end after his duty week. But I was damn wrong. And immediately the replacement policy was on the way. Papa you are in trouble. If you thought you had eyes and moves wait till I tell you what happened. Bear in mind Mama is still pretty.

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