Aasai

Journey back in time: part 2

In the late 90s, there were 3 ways to travel from our home in Kanzalu, Kangundo to Masii High. One, on foot to Mwala, a matatus to Masii. This was the simplest by far. The second one was to walk to Kangundo town, take a matatus to Machakos town and connect to Masii. This was a bit complicated and a bit more expensive. The third one was walking to Kivaani, taking a Machakos bound matatus to a place called Kithangaini and wait for a Matatus from Machakos to collect you and take you to Masii. This route would mostly depend on luck, since the Kivaani Machakos matatus were very irregular. For good reasons, we mostly preferred the Mwala route, since it was direct and assured of reaching school in good time. Plus it was cheap. Kangundo Machakos route I never used, well because there was always a chance of getting lost in Machakos town. I would sometimes use the Kivaani route when I was alone and wanted to pass by a school called Manyatta and greet my cousin who was schooling there. It was during one such journey when the following story happened.

For some reason I cant remember, I went home alone. It can’t have been school fees or suspension. I really don’t remember. I can’t have been sick because in my high school life, I only went home sick once and it wasn’t that particular time. It can’t have been opening or midterm because otherwise I would not have been alone, I would have been accompanied by https://www.facebook.com/john.s.mutua. All I know is that I was alone and chose to go by the Kivaani route. After alighting at that Kithangaini place, who do I meet but a young small bodied girl wearing the bright red and green of Vyulya girls! Or maybe the sweater was orange. I sat on a bench waiting for a matatus, and then, I guess she got tired of standing and she joined me there. What happened next was a classic case of impersonation and lies that almost spiraled out of control. 

We start talking, I tell her my name and she says she is Verah Achieng. She is going home as she is unwell. At that time, it didn’t occur to me that if she was in fact Verah Achieng, she would be travelling towards Machakos town, as opposed to Masii. At her insistence, we were talking in English and to be fair, her English was good. We talked and talked, the matatu was late and we talked for more than an hour. We explored the possibility of writing to each other as time went by. By the time a matatu called ‘Itina wa isaa Yimwe’ to Masii came about, we were best friends. Looking back, and knowing what I know now, it is absolutely impossible she would have been called Achieng. A few words were pronounced with a Kamba accent, she was too brown and she just didn’t give an Achieng vibe. A matatus came, and we parted with a handshake. I promise to write at the earliest opportunity.

It didn’t take long for an opportunity to come by. You see, in those days, some interschool events like music or sports would take 3 days. After a week or so, there was an event at Mwala mixed. During those days, there was some unofficial post service between school mates. Someone would write a letter, give it to a classmate who was on the trip, he would deliver it to any girls from the same school. A reply would return using the same route. On this day, I pulled out the big vocabularies which were reserved for compositions, wrote her a letter generally asking her if she got well and if she was back in school. In the letter, I may have indicated that I had fallen in love with her, and could not wait to see her again. After sealing the letter and addressing it to Verah, I gave it to someone I can’t remember to deliver it to that event. I sent him in the evening before the event. And guess what, when he came into the class the next day, he had a reply!!!

The letter was in a white envelope. During those days, it was customary to read the letter in private before showing friends. In the letter, she acknowledged my best wishes but she was confused because we hadn’t met before. She further said that she doesn’t remember going home that term and that she would remember if she had gone home. She asked me to clarify. She ended by wishing me well.

That was as disastrous as any. I of course replied and explained everything. I insisted that I would forget names, but would never forget a name like Verah Achieng. I told her that someone game her name and I was writing as we agreed. At this point, it was clear that someone had impersonated her. I apologized and went to sleep that night nursing my broken heart. I sent the same guy to deliver the letter the next day. She didn’t reply and that was the end of the story.

Except it wasn’t.

Those who were in schools in 1998 across Kenya, are very conversant with a guy called Ambrose Adongo. He was the Secretary General of Knut and to teachers and students, his word was bigger than the president. This is saying a lot in the view that we are talking about Baba Moi, the strongman. Adongo would tell the teachers to strike and they would go home immediately. It was during such a teachers strike that the school administration said that whoever wanted to go home was free to do so. The rest were welcome to stay in school and study by themselves. I guess they underestimated the students resolve to go home. At the end of the day, only three students were in school. The deputy, Mr. Mwikya, called us into his office at about 1 pm and told us that the school could not keep all the workers in school just to cook for the three of us, so we had to go home. I, Kennedy Mureithi and another guy I don’t remember had to go home long after the others had left. We took a matatu to Machakos where Mureithi boarded a Nairobi bound matatu as I waited for the Kivaani matatu to fill up.

As I sat on the station bench, who do I see bustling and hustling around? Apparently, Vyulya girls had also gone home due to the teachers strike. I call one of them and ask her if she knows Verah Achieng. She excitedly goes to call her. The following is what must have transpired. 

The girl tells Verah that there is a boy from Masii asking for her. Verah would have said that he got a letter from someone who claimed to know her. They must have planned to come as a group to see if I will identify her. They filed past by me, and I could not identify the girl we met. All of them paused, looked at me and disappeared forever. The girl I had sent to call her was confused. I assured her it was okay. I could sense a lot of questions in her but I had no answers. I hope she got her answers from Verah. If she didn’t, then today I undertake to answer her: it was a short pretty girl who had impersonated her friend earlier. 

And that is my story with Verah Achieng’. 

You know the best day in school? When you go out to represent your school in something. Tomorrow I will tell you about the science congress and why I think we could be far as a country only if we listened to young dreamers.

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