My Sahara Experience in June-July

It is June. That middle of 2^nd term on the high school calendar. That month when “Sahara dessert” was a common phrase to many, except a few, who were given many notes for their pockets! Just to be on the same page, Sahara dessert simply meant that time when almost every student’s box and I mean box because nobody had a suitcase; had nothing eatable. That time when if you had anybody’s debt of five or six shillings you would have it rough! “Buy me one packet of “Njugu” on your way to class!” five shillings from where when you didn’t even have a fifty cent? God have mercy! That time when even the daughter of Mr. Wanjala, a honorable member of parliament seemed to be in Sahara with us!

During this time, students always seemed anxious for the meals bell. The bell would go and all one would hear were lockers being pushed and feet rushing to the dinning hall. This time if they were to select athletes, they would be lost for choice because this was the time when almost all the students were at their most swift! Delay getting to the dinning hall and all your table members would seem to have forgotten you because there would be no food spared for you. Hey! Now that is the moment a painful tear would drop and you would feel bile in your chest. You would wonder why the world was being so unfair to you and the crime you had committed for that was punishment worse than a jail term. In anguish, you would walk to the exit door and wait for that Miss World type whose intestines had refused to receive more food and look at them like a dying horse so that they could not wait for you to request for the food and just give it to you. You would then walk back to the dinning hall and swallow it like that malnourished street kid who had not found left over food in the bins for a record three days because your intestines were really complaining and you could almost hear them converse.

Now imagine that Sahara torture plus this June cold! And mark you our school was in the middle of the forest. We were used to the cold but the June-July one was triple. So we used to fetch water before we went to bed and hid it under our beds just so as not meet empty basins in the morning. At five am, the lights would be switched on and all freezing, we would rush to the bathroom for space. Okay! Now you have the space, time for the challenge! I call it a challenge because you would be freezing, teeth gashing and a basin of ice glaring at you! One would make their calculations and settle for the passport method. Passport is where by one wipes the sensitive areas on the body. The armpits and the honey-pie! I mean, between the legs! Now one was done with the challenge and so they would rush to their rooms to dress up for the morning preps!

You were doomed if the bell rang before you got to class. Mrs. Ingonga was always standby to capture those who valued sleep more than books. Books if at all those who got to class before the bell really read them. Some called it extension. I mean, sitting in a comfortable position in which nobody would suspect you were sleeping. Back to Mrs. Ingonga; “Just kneel down!” she would say to those who were still moving around by 5.31 am. Imagine kneeling on stones in that freezing June weather, in a short skirt and re-winded socks. Indeed Satan is just Satan! She would start lashing harsh words and role her big eyes and indeed she knew she had big eyes for if your eyes happened to meet she would say; “stop staring at me with big eyes like mine!” She would then walk around after making us kneel for 30 minutes which always seemed like 3 hours and pull our ears as though she intended to pluck them. Ouch! That was a test of fire! She would then ask as to rush to class. Woe unto you if you lost balance and hit your round body on stones!

Despite the Sahara and bad weather, Saturdays were so exciting! Exciting because we didn’t have classes and people would sneak to the dormitories to sleep. Sleep because, there was nothing to steal from boxes that only had soap, toothpaste, tissue paper and clothes! Yes! High school life turned many into thieves. Even that most beautiful girl was not to be trusted. Now there was this other thing that made Saturdays exciting. Bread! Each Saturday evening we were entitled to a quarter loaf of bread. Class prefects would collect loafs of bread from the canteen as we had our supper so that we would share them during the hymns practice session. So there is this particular Saturday that Sahara was at its peak, when a loaf disappeared! The search for the loaf began, and that is not to say it had a unique label! It was just a blind search. After the unfruitful search in everybody’s locker, the class rep settled on one verdict! The person who was being faced by the paper bag containing the remaining loafs of bread was the thief. I laughed too just as you are laughing because that was so hilarious! For real! Even the lady being faced by the paper bag was shocked but I almost believed the class prefect’s verdict because the suspect’s reputation had become questionable after being involved in several theft scandals at the Nyayo hostel! Nonetheless, we got our rightful shares for this was the time when you would murder anyone who tried to deny you your right. Bread was like gold during the Sahara season!

Saturdays were always the best I tell you! After sharing loafs of bread and practicing hymns for the Sunday service, we would psych up for entertainment. It would either be self entertainment where by we would have talented girls entertaining us or we would watch a movie which was Nigerian in most cases. It would all be screams in the dormitories afterwards in case we watched a movie with scary content. And in case one was a resident of the Yala dormitory which was prone to ghost stories and devil worshippers, that made it worse. The next day you would hear stories of scary ladies in white who were seen walking in the corridors of the dormitory, or rather a high heel shoe moving aimlessly. Some would also say that someone invisible attempted to strangle them at night. But still, why did they look forward to watching the same, same movies?  

Did I mention devil worshippers in the Yala dormitory? I heard of them from the time I was admitted but I never encountered them. There was a famous tale that I will never forget. It was told to me but I would also tell it to fresher’s, I mean form ones when they joined my dormitory. Maybe I believed they existed. Okay, here goes the story. There was this particular lady whose box never ran dry. She would open her juice and whenever it reached a certain level, however much she shared it; it never reduced from the level. And she also had money in plenty. She would give anybody interested to be her friend even close to 10,000 kshs and never bothered to get the money back. They said that was her way of luring unsuspecting hungry souls to the underworld. In case she really existed, then she must have acquired many clients during the June-July season. And during my time, maybe I would have been her client too for the hustle was real for me. Another thing about her; during the night her box would open and close continuously then sweet soothing music would be heard! Scary, right? I was more scared than you because the purported ladies’ room was directly opposite mine. Room four for those who are still there, and those familiar with the dormitory. Yala dorm was famous for devil worshipers and ghosts, but there was another one famous for lesbians but that’s a story for another day.

The June-July weather was so scary but some girls would still freeze and shine. You know, walk to class very early in the morning when the cold was at it’s peak without a sweater and socks. If you happened to loose a sweater in June you were doomed for however much you searched for it you would never find it, and the thief would be wearing it and standing next to you but you would never notice.  

Now despite starving for a record two months, when visited we would feast as though there was no tomorrow. The latrines would be a no go zone for vomit was all over. There are those who would even diarrhea in their clothes from overfeeding. The sick bay beds were full because girls were suffering from overfeeding! The nurse would not spare them though! She would lash harsh words at them in her Tiriki infested accent! “ket out of here and ko to class!” (Get out of here and go to class). She was a no nonsense lady. I remember her calling some girls’ green snakes in green grass after she had been summoned by the deputy principle for bringing girls food from outside the school compound. She was not to be trusted either for given the chance, she betrayed so many girls.

Now if I were to go back to high school, it would just not be in June-July!