Life at the mission center was not what the boys had expected it to be. There was more work than learning for the African kid than the Blue-eyed's. They were only taught on Mondays and Tuesdays. The rest of the days were lined up with numerous activities running from work on the cotton and maize plantations to cleaning the school compound, classrooms, dormitories and the commercial section. But at least they were happy to be drinking from the Blue-eyed's cup of knowledge.
There were about five hundred of them at the center - both juvenile and mature boys and girls. They came from all over the province - Nyanza - and even as sparsely habituated as towards Western, Central and the Great Rift. The academic standards were, notwithstanding, kept high. Only a few who performed meritoriously proceeded to the next levels. The rest were divided into two groups, the weak and the robust. The weak would move about wearing many hats, helping in the farms and
When Osayo was arrested, people did not know where he was taken to. The Blue-eyed took him to a small prison at Aluor Mission Center in Gem. At Aluor, Osayo was forced to work on the maize plantations without any pay. He was also subjected to a little torture which came in the form of food denial to 'teach him manners' as the Blue-eyed purported. He ate only twice a day, in the mornings before he left for work and at night before he went to bed.The gang's ringleader, Miguena, and a few youths who had been captured in the night of terror were with him. Back in Seme, however, things went dramatic. The youth did not stop their night attacks. They assembled at one place one time, and elsewhere at another time. Immediately after the arrest, they stormed into the cotton plantation at Kolunje. The plantation had been shielded from inversion by humans and animals by a high fence, but finding weak points across the barbed wire, they made their
It was the end of a long day. The Saturday had been tied up with a range of activities for the children, from harvesting cotton and carrying them to the warehouse to music practicals in the afternoon. Okayo spared a moment with the gatekeeper before attending his piano lesson. They called the man Pita, a Swahili word which meant 'pass'. Pita seemed to be quite accommodative and sprightly, at least not like he had appeared to be before when they first met at the gate. It was, however, said that the man suffered from cyclothymia; he would seem to be jovial one moment but then quickly turn gloomy or even ballistic after a few minutes of talk. Others also said he was paranoic, hence his extreme irrational distrust towards people, and yet others that he had demons in him. Okayo went to him to enquire about Mr. Shan. The man spoke to him genially and said that Mr. Shan had been fired. When Okayo asked him why, he laughed hilariously and replied that Mr. Shan might have been
It was Monday again and the students were back to normal learning. The classrooms were packed up to the gunnels and teachers did their work with sticktoitiveness. The students were always avid for knowledge. They were filled with the impeccable longing for this and that that they found new. Silence in the learning section therefore went without promulgation, except for the chantings and chorusings in the classrooms. Okayo was in grade five. He had excelled in grade four exams. They would be sitting the mid-year exams soon. Those who failed grade four exams had already joined the farm and other menial works in the commercial. Others were undergoing military training. There were three compulsory subjects that one had to merit in, and these were Arithmatics, Reading and Writing. Then there were other four that were considered academic boosters, they were more practical in nature. These were Drilling, Local Geography, Drama & Music
He stood by the window watching the sun sink into the occident. The yellow flickers coruscated his face giving it a new form of brightness. He liked the rays because of their yellow brightness, though he knew darkness would soon eat up the clear atmosphere and his dazzling face would soon be dark and fading. He would be parting ways with the sun. He gazed at it and the signs of a fading beauty, beauty that had once struck his heart crept into his mind. In the sulky long night, he would neither see nor hear of it again. He felt rancorous with darkness - it would separate him from what he loved dearly. But he knew that even on that day when thick darkness would come upon him and cover his soul, body and spirit, the sun would continue to shine. And that was all he wanted, that the sun may continue to shine upon his people. He was still looking at the sun when Nyarari came over and stood beside him. She was in the nerves but pretended to be watchi
It was approaching dusk yet the sky remained as clear as crystal. The land lay stiff and barren - no edible plants and animals, no grains, and many were the lives she had swallowed. She looked like a ravenous giantess craving for any living prey. She wanted to devour as many living creatures as she could. On her belly rested the ailing countryside, as quiet as if nobody lived in it. The four and other three men were now moving towards River Awach. The family had alighted from the wagons at Wang'-arot and luckily found three men loafing about who offered to help with carrying the heavy sacks of food. The Blue-eyed had constructed a murram road from Kisumu to Usenge, but the paths leading to the river off the main road, through the forests, were narrow and could not be used by wagon-riders. Even so, the family objected using the Gem route fearing they might be attacked by a gang, and so the riders had to leave them at the Wang'arot junction.
It was an all-merry ground at the Osayos. At one side of the homestead, young women dressed in owelo (traditonal dancing skirts made of sisal) and tops made of banana leaves harmoniously sang dudu (a native folksong sung by women) in the accompaniment of nyatiti, orutu and other traditional instruments. At the other side, young men cavorted about performing Ohangla and other native music. When the much-awaited guests arrived, all the people made welkin rings and ululations as they rushed to meet and welcome them home. The women carried their bride and the men their bridegroom and moved about bestowing laudits on them. Some older men too gambolled about making utterances of praise in the native spoken word format called sigiya. After the shoutings had died down, young men performed the traditional Sikwomba and Ohangla dances. Afterward, women lined up themselves in front of Agola'
Okech squatted down to the flowing water to fill his barrel. He was now seventeen seasons old, tall and mascular, already initiated into adulthood, and possessed with decade-old momories of his family. He missed the company of his siblings and parents. For a moment, his eyes shifted onto the scar on his left leg, the only relic of his childhood life. His mind toured the past. He remembered the dreadful scene at the river - how the Blue-eyed pointed at and shot him with a strange item, an item that sparked fire. The wound had taken time to heal and the huge scar left marked a page in his life that had not yet been closed. He kept asking himself: were his brothers and friends back in Seme safe? And his insane father? What about his mother who had left only months after their father turned mad? Would he ever meet them again? As he though about these, he forgot himself and the barrel he wa
Okayo stole glances at the wooden sofa sets, large stools, and floral decorations inside Omolo's house. He wondered where it all came from. They were a rare thing in the countryside. He could now almost conclude that there was an immeasurable amount of wealth in the church. It was not his first time witnessing such a glamorous setting in the house of a clergy; he had seen it in Pastor Ken's house back in Kisumu Town. He thought about it for a moment. Was the church an effectual money-minting organisation camouflaging as a free solace workshop? Why were the clergy leading lavish lifestyles while their followers begged and toiled hard for bread like mendicants? "I liked the sermon," Nyarari interrupted his thoughts. "Did you?" He did not reply immediately. "Did you like it, Johnny?" reiterated Nyarari. "I don't know. I was just thinking about something else when you interrupted."