“I don’t know how to be responsible for what other black male do, I don’t know! I’ve… uh, all my life I lived my life trying to be responsible for what I do.”– Tupac Shakur.
I can’t be thankful enough to God for what he does for pathetic me, I don’t even deserve it. So I live my life knowing that the world owes me nothing! Whatever I get is good because it’s better than nothing, yet nothing is what I truly deserve. Now I don’t like to pull the ‘God’ card when I’m trying to make sense to ‘secular’ people but sometimes there’s just no way to get around it. I’m telling you, my God is not just an excuse I make because He IS, period. By that I mean he really does exist and his presence is emphatic! That is all. I won’t bore anymore with that God talk. It just bothers me that some people think that I owe ‘em something.
Anyway, I went to visit Emily and my only brother Festus (the names are changed to conceal… okay; I don’t know why it just feels wise to do so) in their school today, my first time by the way. That young boy has had his voice broken, and when I shook his hand he gave me that fists handshake that I do with my boys! I even felt threatened. I’d gone with my mom and it was rather fun, it felt like a picnic. Emily is still not Excellent academically but she’s improving, perhaps I can rightfully take some of the credit.
Now, what you have read is the nice part. The journey part was not so pleasant for me at all! Destination was Nakuru, means of transport was molo line matatus, time taken on the road was about three hours, seat taken was in the first row of seats and the consequence was numbness of legs and fatigue! There was no room for my delicate legs to breathe! My legs were screaming so loud that I wished I could cut them off and throw them out the window! I still can’t figure out whether this was because my legs are just fragile or it’s been long since I travelled long distance or there was too little space for legs to stretch. And I don’t know why they say that that school is in Nakuru, it sincerely is not! You get to Nakuru and you take another matatu that will take you a distance that is about the same distance from here to Thika! Poor lil’ kids, my parents did find a fine way to dispose them off! I guess they grew too old to babysit. I’ve been secretly trying to get my sister to protest about this but strangely enough, she likes it that way! Festus has no problem.
Like I have told you before if you have been reading this blog, being a first born kid, it reaches a time when you become the third parent. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t. This time I didn’t like. I only like when I get to take part in decision making but not when responsibilities are assigned to me. While my mother took care of Emily’s academic issues with her teacher, she suggested that I go with Festus to his teacher to talk about his progress in his school work. Oh, my word what was that teacher saying! “Festus is a very desiprined mboy, isn’t it? And we know desiprine ngoes had in had with good performance…” and it sort of pissed me off that he kept addressing the little boy rather than me. He said like two words while facing me, the rest… for that reason I didn’t say much myself. I just skimmed through the list of pupil names and their results that he had on his table. I noticed I don’t know some of the subjects these kids study these days so I asked him what SSR stands for; I saw it on that list. Its Social Studies and Religion, if you are as old as I am then I bet you didn’t know that either unless you father a school going kiddo.
After the seeing Mr. Wanjohi, Festus’ teacher, we went back to our ‘camp’. I mentioned to mom how Mr. Wanjohi praised little brother for being disciplined. “Yes, he is but he is secretly naughty!” Then Emily remembers and tells us how Festus tells his friends that he doesn’t know her and that she is from Kisumu! That just killed me, lol! I don’t see why he would do that.
Speaking of Kisumu, they will be going on a trip to Kisumu to see Lake Victoria or something. We paid for the trips and left them a little pocket money for the same. Then we started the journey back to Nakuru town before we could take another back to Nairobi. Hell, those matatus in Nakuru don’t carry excess passengers, they carry beyond that! I wish I took a picture of that but I couldn’t reach my pockets. And don’t even get me started on the stench of the people who kept piling up! Sorry Nakuru folks, most of you stink! And one last complaint- as much as it is for my own safety, I don’t like to be frisked and for my luggage to be ransacked. That’s the price molo line passengers pay for a little safety. It was a good day in the end though.