The Show

It was the second term in form two and the Meru ASK show was due. We paid a fee of three hundred shillings. 
This amount included fare, gate entrance fee, half loaf of bread and a 300ml soda. 

The typical food high schoolers were then subjected to whenever out of school for a funkie. I don’t know what students eat nowadays, maybe the Dynamic Duo through CS Matiangi supply them with Brookside milk and KDFs replacing the sodas and half loaves we so religiously loved and always looked forward to – Kwanza the fresh mafuko bread! Wacha tu!

Being the first time I was to attend an agricultural show, I was super excited and so were most of my classmates. During my primary school years we didn’t get an opportunity of making it there. A couple of my classmates were however used to it. My seatmate, Alfred gave me endless escapades of what really happens there. I couldn’t wait to finally set my eyes on all the things he kept talking about.

‘The Christ Way’ pulled up in the compound and parked beside the notice board ready to ferry us to the show ground. Behind the wheel as usual was ‘Pastor’ – A very cool chap. 

‘The Christ Way’ was a twenty something seater mini-bus matatu that plied the Meru – Maua route. Sky Blue in colour. It doubled as our official school bus. Despite it being a twenty something seater, it used to carry a whole lot of us – talk of forty something. That was before the defiant NTSA came into being. 

Look, we didn’t have a boo (School bus) though we paid for it for the four years and left without having set our eyes on it. They later bought one after we left and I feel jealous any time I see it on the road. One day I met it packed somewhere and I was contemplating removing one tire to compensate the amount I paid. Evil thoughts there, shindwe! 

Back to the story.

I sat between my two good friends Alfred and Peter ‘Kaleft’ in the bus, who had both been to the show ground several times before. Curiosity almost killed me before the journey of less than forty five minutes to Mutindwa came to a halt. We alighted at the show ground main entrance where we were made to line up and got issued with tickets that our teacher instructed we keep safe or else we risked being whisked off should we be found without one. 

The place was so packed and dusty and immediately the picture I had formed in my mind of this fancy, posh heaven-on-earth place changed. I hated it the first instance, hate at first sight. I let my feelings known to my buddies, and, alas! Kaleft came up with a quick suggestion. “Why don’t we stroll to tao and waste a few minutes there” This suggestion came in handy since I hardly knew town. This was an opportune moment to know every corner of Mutindwa o Kangaangi. Off we went. 

We walked all the way from Gitooro to Town, the three of us. We all had a few shillings we had saved to spoil ourselves. On arriving at the main matatu terminus, we were so worn out, hungry and thirsty. We grabbed some roasted maize that were being sold by the road side to quell our rumbling tummies. To lubricate our throats that were now rendered dry by maize, Alfred suggested that we drink something that would quench the thirst and at the same time make us a little high. Talk of killing two birds with one stone.

I must confess that I had never touched anything alcoholic before. My liver was such a virgin. The virginity that was now staring at being broken in full glare of town and all its inhabitants. Ashamedly I was in school uniform. I never wanted to portray my weakness and naivety to my friends and so I lied that I also drink booze once in a while. Besides I was in that adolescence stage where you have to prove your manhood to everyone by even doing stupid things.

We took one corner, a second one and a third one and in a few seconds we found ourselves in this shanty den behind Mwalimu Sacco building. We met several other students from different schools holding big cups filled with some yellowish concoction that they were gulping to quench their thirst. We sat in a bench and a fine looking girl (everyone in skirt looked beautiful during adolescence years) poured the concoction for us. We did two cups each. By the way the substance was sweet. It was made of honey or sugarcane I assume. I dared not ask my friends what it was fearing I would look naïve. We paid and off we went. I started feeling weird and seeing everything in pairs but I acted strong and walked anyway. 

We arrived at Makutano and my two friends complained how that thing was not strong and that we needed to add something as top up before going back to the show ground. I remember us going to a shop near Hotel Three Steers and Alfred ordered some three sachets that I later learnt was sapphire. He handed me one. I observed what they did with theirs and without wasting time I followed suit. That thing was bitter I tell you, bitter than Uganda warragin. We walked for about fifty meters or so and my thin legs couldn’t carry me any further. My friends helped me cross the road and placed me in a shade under a tree where I blackouted. 

They woke me up an hour or so later, bought me a bottle of water and I came back to my senses. Luckily no one from our school saw us. We continued with our journey to the showground. On arrival I can’t remember seeing the dust that I had earlier seen in the morning. We went straight to Omega one disco where we danced ourselves to exhaustion.

The things I witnessed school boys and girls do in omega one left my mouth wide open. Things I can’t dare print here. When we had enough of the dancing and watching free ‘movies’ in Omega it was now time to move out and visit other areas that I had heard stories of. We stepped out and got shocked it was almost getting dark. We ran towards the gate to look for our school mates so we would not be left by the bus. We found a bunch of boys from our school at the gate in the company of Mr Karaiku and Mr Muchena. We were informed that the bus had already made two trips to school and by then it was on its way coming to collect us – the final trip.

Traffic had started building up due to the many buses that had come to pick students. Mr Muchena said we walk to Shell petrol station in Makutano where we would wait for the bus. While at the petrol station some boys had an altercation with the touts at the stage and they started pelting stones towards our direction. 

I remember Mr Muchena asking his colleague, “I baaû bau bakwelia nkomongo?” (Who are those hurling stones?)

“I makanga” (It’s the touts) Karaiku answered.

“Aî makanga ka batîkûmenya inya nthaka ii chiakwa I makanga, nûkwenda mbeere caa?”(Touts? Don’t they know my boys are touts too, should I tell them to retaliate?) 

He then turned to us and said. “Kabûkûûrwa I makanga? Kinya buî oyei african nguruneti bûbeelie” (How dare you be beaten by touts, pick African grenades and hurl at them as well)

Whatever those touts got that evening I don’t think they ever came back there.

And these two teachers were funny. They spoke/insulted in kimeru whenever they got annoyed. Karaiku was an English-lit teacher, he never taught me though I heard stories from those he taught. He would always use this phrase, “I’m not your girlfriend whom you keep on telling itaitia înaînama!”

Muchena was even worse he taught me chemistry in form four and the insults he would hurl at us are unmentionable. He once gave us a cat that some of us scored so dismally and he told us, “In my entire career I have never taught boys to score zero in chemistry iyîyî nchaabu!” 

One day my good friend Kinoti Kajairo and some other two boys were kneeling outside the staffroom waiting for a punishment from Mrs Nthamburi (Kiyogi) for a crime they had committed. No sooner had Mrs Nthamburi started reading riot to the trio than Mr Muchena appeared and started conversing to Mrs Nthamburi oblivious of the three boys’ presence.

“MaNdam Caro ûkwona mwarî okwa? ûkwona naraumîre tukilikili o ya tûû twenu?” (Madam Caro have you seen my daughter? Did you see she has grown boobs just like those of yours?) He said of his daughter who had come to visit him that day, his index finger pointing at Mrs Nthamburis’ chest. My good friend Kinoti and his colleagues burst into a thunderous laughter. Embarassed, Nthamburi ordered the boys to run to class immediately. Maybe to avoid further embarrassment in case Muchena decided to unleash another bombshell. And just like that the boys got exonerated of the grievous mistakes they had committed against Mrs Nthamburi.

Had we finished with the show story before we got immersed into Muchenas’ shenanigans if I may ask? Oh! Sorry here we go. The bus came for us about 9pm. I went into slumber land immediately I got in. I was tired like hell and couldn’t wait to arrive in school and get to bed. I never got to experience all the good things my friends talked about before we went to the show. All I got to experience was booze and the dance in omega one.