It was an awfully quiet night preps...

It was an awfully quiet night preps. Unlike the others, the principle had taken rounds in the classes. She is fierce, with a very loud voice. She managed to make everyone fear her, some teachers and workers included. We could hear her as she gave instructions in her stern voice to some class, probably on the form one block which was on the 3rd floor. Our class was on the 1st floor of the same building. Once her voice was heard, everyone, I mean everyone in the school would start fidgeting. This is because she would come to your class and check random things like your notebooks, your desk, practically anything! I remember there was this thing we used to do called “5 sums a day”. When you heard her that is when you would remember that the last time you did them was last term. You should be on number 455 but your sorry self is at 250. Remember it’s from last term. You had to think of a way to have an updated number in case she checked those. Talk about drama!

 

The 9:30 pm bell rings. Freedom! The singing starts or the prayers, whichever your class preferred. I really enjoyed this part of the school schedule. It was a time to release all the pressure and shout. We had 10 minutes of prayers, praise and worship after preps.We had just finished praying when the door suddenly fled open. Madam Principle! She pointed out to our corner, my heart skipped a beat, “The girl with the fleece jacket and a scarf can you come out!” Poor Jane, she had struggled with sleep almost the whole prep.She had been lying on her desk during prayers and had probably fallen asleep. The principle must have seen her through the windows. The best we can do is wish her well.

At 9:40, we all say the grace. As we are heading out, a class is still singing, in another, someone is making an announcement. “If you are not a class cleaner, please lift your chair before leaving the class for breakfast”.

The inter-stream music festival was on Saturday. We were expected to practice every day of that week. As I walk towards our practice area, my thoughts are interrupted by a scream.  Most of us turn to the direction of the scream; turns out someone had just tickled her. Near the entrance of the administration block, the disciple master is standing with a group of girls. One of them looks very disturbed.  It’s probably nothing big. I have never understood what this particular teacher’s deal was. “You are ladies of substance”, he points to one of them,” Young girl, watch your attitude”, he says. I am sure he had threatened them several times.

 

The assembly area was our practice spot; has been for generations. A lot of people had not yet arrived. There were different types of people in these particular times; those who hid to read, those who carried a set book to read while waiting and actually read them, those who never carried anything, just a sweater. Then there was your girl, always carried a set book but never read it. I almost forgot, there are those who went to the dorm, which was illegal by the way.  I joined a group of my classmates who were discussing how a large number of people were going out for functions that same Saturday. The music festivals would be boring if many people were not around. The conversation shifts to functions. This is a whole assortment of discussion topics. From boys, to food to how some girl in form 2 was slapped for coming late to the bus. Jane suddenly shouts,”Kwanza ile siku karibu niachwe na bus ju ya boy wa Patch (Nairobi School)”. Everyone laughs.

The conversation is interrupted by a girl in form four. By now almost everyone is there, apart from those hiding to read. I never understood them though. This was a time to relax and enjoy. For some of us to show off our talents (I say that with no sarcasm at all).

Judy, the form four girl, tells us how they have won since form one. She tells us how they managed to do that. She is a good hype person. She reads the different categories that we will participate in. We break to join different teams as per one’s choice from the different categories. I join the cultural dance; not much is said but we are pumped with enough psych to come for practice the next day. We will meet the next day at the same time, same place, just like everything else would happen that day; in routine and in order.

 

There was a set time for everything; eating, prayers, practice e.t.c. There were strictly enforced rules about everything; including things concerning your personal development. I mean, you should be worried enough about your maths skills as a student to do practice sums right?

But in our type of schools, there was no space or time for you to think about what you are actually doing and what is the best way to do it. Everything was set up perfectly in a sort of oscillatory routine kept in place by tinkling bells. Most of us adjusted into the routine easily and just flowed with it. The few who rebelled were quickly put back on course or expelled depending on the degree of their rebellion.

Looking back, I think that that kind of life was quite easy; you were automatically in the right place at the right time doing the right thing without much energy or thinking. Today, here in the ‘cooperate world’, you have to figure out what is the right thing for you and the best way to do it. Being in the right place at the right time is so difficult without the tinkling bells, a tough principle and an always-on-the-watch discipline master. Maybe it’s because we were not allowed to grow our self-discipline muscles or maybe the discipline that was imposed on us took away some creativity of successfully doing things differently. Whatever it is, I have come to learn that adulting requires you to be your own mama, tough principle and owl-eyed discipline master in order to hang on to some sanity which is a rare commodity during this young adulting phase.

~Wairimu and Wanjiku

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