Mzee Moja Diary: The Day Boys Sneaked into My School

It behooves those of my generation to dispense wisdom to the young ones and the society in general. My guesstimation is that the days I have lived on this mother earth are more than the remaining ones; and I intend to live beyond the grave, by writing my memoirs while my upstairs is yet to be ravaged by dementia, or whatever else gets old people.

One of the many jobs I have done so far is dispensing English language and Literature at a school in Stoo Mbili called Mwanzo Mwema Girls School. The school was owned by a former mayor in the KANU era and our pay was dependent on the whims of Mheshimiwa. Sometimes we would be paid the whole KSh1200.00 and at times we would end up working for charity; never knowing when we would be paid.

There being nowhere to complain, and no better prospects for a fresh BSc. Food Tech graduate of Egerton University, we whiled our way in the God forsaken poor apology of a school. Part of the duties as a teacher included making sure that our girls remained in their hostels the whole night.

I say that because those who have never worked in a girls’ school may not know how sensitive their security is. As a teacher on duty for the week, you literally became a night guard; guarding the future mothers from marauding village boys and boys from neighboring schools.

One weekend I was tasked with making sure that no nocturnal activities happened at school to any of the girls. Little did I know that some form three girls were as clever as Eneke the Bird in Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart.” Eneke the Bird lived by the maxim that since the hunters had learnt to shoot without missing, she would also fly without perching.

And so, without anybody noticing, some form three girls had loaned their school uniforms to their heartbeats in the neighboring boy’s school. The boys would sneak into the girl’s hostel after prep, spend a night of passion in one of the cubicles and take off in the wee hours.

No one would have noticed this clever move had it not been for the girls in the next cubicle. Having not the ability to continue withstanding passionable wails emanating from the cubicle next to theirs, they decided to spill the beans.

When the school’s principal, Mrs. Maneno, reported to duty the next morning, the girls rushed to her office to report their randy neighbors. Of course as the teacher on duty I was called in to explain myself. “Ulikuwa wapi when all that was happening?”

How could I know how it happened and the plan was well executed by the clever girls? Try as much as I could, I could not extricate myself from the accusation that as the school depended on me to watch over the precious cargo, I was away in dreamland.

To cover up the matter, the said girls were quetly expelled from school without disclosing the real reason behind the move in order not to tarnish the otherwise good name of the school. As for me and the two night guards, we were sent home with no pay.

I have recalled that short episode because I believe the good President of Kenya should also fire those tasked with guarding our borders. They have slept on the job for so long and the nation is under internal and external attack. If Mrs. Maneno could master the courage to sack the only English Lit. teacher in her school, Mr. Kenyatta has a mightier responsibility of firing Ole Lenku, Kimaiyo, and Kameru.

By Mzee Moja