Preparing a Better Place

When the bell for lunch was rung at 12.45 pm, we had only 1 hour and 15 minutes to run from St. Anne’s Ahero Primary school to “Kambi”, a Luo pronunciation of “Company.” Kambi, the compound which housed employees of Ministry of water and Natural Resources, was located approximately 2 kilometers from “Kafadha,” another name for St.Annes’s Ahero primary school. This nickname came about because our school (together with Ahero Girls secondary school and St. Peters nursery school) was partly sponsored by Fathers of the Catholic Church around which all these other premises were based.

The five of us were studying in the same primary school. To beat the deadline of reporting back to school at 2pm for the afternoon session, which was mandatory for all pupils in upper primary, we would run all the way home. Once at home, our elder brother would quickly delegate duties. He would, for example, instruct me to light the jiko while my younger brother would be tasked with washing the utensils. My elder sister would cut the vegetables, onions, tomatoes and other paraphernalia which would be used to make the stew. The two younger sisters would be spared. They would play hide and seek as we busied ourselves to beat the 2pm deadline.After all, they were in the lower primary and were therefore in no hurry since they were not allowed to go back for the afternoon session.

After dakuon oseyienyo, my elder bother would cook the Ugali and thereafter my elder sister would quickly make the stew. Then we would all assemble in the kitchen and eat as fast as we could. Once our tummies were full, we would run back to school as fast as we could.Many a times, we would beat the 2pm deadline by only a few seconds.

We would arrive just when the bell indicating the start of the afternoon session is rung. Even before we could settle down and fun away the sweat, the tough Mathematics teacher would enter the class with a long stick. He would parade all those who failed the morning assignments in front of the class and give them a beating of their lives. Who does not remember Mr.Hongo?  Sometimes I would be among the poor victims. In fact, I was a regular victim of Mr.Hongo’s wrath. This is because I would spend the better part of the morning lesson thinking how I would run all the way home to light a jiko than to concentrate on the formula he was trying to explain on the board.

It never used to be this way. I was one of the best pupils in Mathematics and Mr. Hongo kind of loved me. Well, you know you can never say for sure that Mr.Hongo loved anyone. He wanted us to score 100% in Mathematics and so, those of us who tried hard to score 88% still faced the wrath of Mr.Hongo with equal measure. Mr.Hongo did not want 88%. Mr.Hongo wanted 100% .Nothing more and nothing less. But when I started failing in mathematics, Mr.Hongo kind of got worried. He would wonder what has come over me. One day he called me in his office and when he asked me what is happening, I simply told him that it was my mother. That since my mother relocated to Siaya and left us alone in Ahero, life had become a bit difficult for us.

It was not my mother’s wish to leave us alone in Ahero. In fact, her moving to Siaya was for the good of all of us. She relocated to Siaya to prepare a new home for us. It was more like the Biblical analogy where Jesus died and ascended to heaven to prepare a place for those who will accept HIM as their personal saviors or how does the Bile tell this story of preparing a better place in heaven? Yes, she relocated to Siaya to build a new home for us. In Luo, we call it “Goyo Dala” or beating the home, if you like.

Before my mother relocated to Siaya, life was very easy for us. I would not think of running all the way to Kambi to light a jiko or wash the utensils while Mr.Hongo was in class. I would concentrate on what he was doing on the chalkboard and when he gave us assignments, I scored 100%. When the bell for lunch break was rung, the five of us would walk leisurely, sometimes even stopping along the way to play hide and seek or watch dead bodies floating in the swollen River Nyando. We would reach home at around 1.20 pm and find hot Ugali and scrambled eggs on the table. After eating, we would play for like 10 minutes or so before embarking on our journey back to school. In fact, my elder brother even had time to take a short nap before going back to school.

In the evening, we would come back home and find our mother has done everything for us. Beans would be boiling on the jiko to be taken with rice for supper. The only work she would instruct us to do was to fetch water from the borehole and wash ourselves. Whoever did not shower would not be allowed to eat supper.

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Fast-forward, my mother is now a “japounj Kanisa.” She presides over mass at the local ACK, St. Luke’s Rabuor Church, Diocese of Maseno West. She successfully prepared for us a home in Siaya and now she is preparing a home for us in heaven by praying for our souls.

(image credits: www.godrealthings.co.za)