SAME FOREST, DIFFERENT MONKEYS

Makueni Boys’ High School aka ‘Mitchez’ or ‘Mak B’ had always appeared to be a great school, churning out many A’s and being an epitome of discipline. In fact, other regional schools used to visit us for bench marking. 

Students at the School's Assembly Point   Photo Courtesy: MKBH Facebook

NO ONE SAW IT COMING

On 23^rd September 2007, at about 6pm (It was a Saturday, barely a month to KCSE), a fellow Form Four whom I’m forever grateful to approached me and asked me quietly “Do you believe that there can be a strike in this school?”. I almost went like, are you crazy? No one would contemplate such a thing, I thought. Besides, the admin would have got wind of it a long time ago. So I said ‘NO’. I was WRONG, the guy had intel! Still, he told me be ready for anything. 

  

Makueni Boys' School Assembly Point/Staff Room   Photo Courtesy: MKBH Facebook

THE SIGNS HAD BEEN THERE ALL ALONG

That week, all bulbs in the Form 2 & 3 classes had mysteriously gone missing, no one raised an eyebrow. Not just that, pins had been removed from all FIRE EXTINGUISHERS in the school.

  

LESSON #1 School administrators should never take anything for granted.

Since the perpetrators could not gain access into Form 4 classes, they disconnected the power. They did it so well that technicians couldn’t trace where the problem was (I hope those guys are engineers now or something of the sort). Left with no choice, teachers took some students to the Assembly Hall, and others to the Laboratories and Dining Hall. They played right into the trap!

AND THEN IT HAPPENED! 

At around 8pm, smoke and fire engulfed Malinda dormitory, the furthest on the slope. By the time teachers were noticing, it was already too late. Then came the explosions (Remember the stolen bulbs? They were now being hurled into the windows, the impact producing loud explosions).

The Deputy Principal nicknamed ‘Mothos’ summoned everybody for a hurried roll call, hoping to catch the criminals. But surprisingly, everybody was in.

INCIDENT WAS DOWNPLAYED 

The next day, the Press and parents were all over the place. The Principal told them it was a small ‘electrical fault’ which would be sorted. New mattresses and other stuff were quickly purchased to keep students in school.

LESSON #2 If students want to go home, let them go. This may seem simplistic, but a school administration that appears to downplay the storm brewing inside may just shoot itself in the foot. Like the recent case of Malindi High. What would it cost a Minister to just close down schools? Or a Principal to tell students to go home? Ego, of course. But that could prevent damage to property, and God forbid, even loss of lives.

The School Logo   Courtesy: MKBH Facebook

As you can already predict, on the second day, all hell broke loose. Students went on the rampage, destroying window panes, and whatever could be broken into. They even broke into the staffroom, wrote nasty things on the board. I’m reliably informed that some notorious ones urinated on the walls, a nasty one maybe to ask the administration ‘mtado?’Anyway, to their credit, some students stole teachers’ textbooks so that they could revise at home!

SLEEPING ON THE COLD FLOOR 

Long story short, we took to the nearby forest after the police were called in. I don’t know how we ended up there, but we spent the night sleeping on the COLD FLOOR at the DC’s office in Wote.

After this, teachers had no option but to let us go home. WORD QUICKLY SPREAD to other schools. Not to be left behind, those students soon joined us at home, having successfully burnt their dormitories.

To this date, I’ve never really known the main reason for the strike. Oppression and caning by teachers, slapping by prefects topped the agenda, but there were also  issues of bad food, sijui school bus, exams, etc. It is now more than 8 years after the incident, and the reasons why students go on the rampage remain almost the same. 

Boys will always be boys. 

FOOTNOTE #1 I recently met a former student who supported the strike (he was in Form 2 then), and he doesn’t regret participating. Says it brought great change.

NB: This may not be the exact chronology of events. Old Boys, feel free to correct me where you can.

FOOTNOTE #2 That December, the country was plunged into Post Election Violence following the disputed results of the General Election. I know I may sound a bit paranoid, but I honestly hope and pray that this won’t be the case in 2017. Peace!

Ni mimi wenu, Mwangangi.

DID YOU KNOW THIS ABOUT MOMBASA?

1. MOMBASA PEOPLE 'ARE LAZY'

From the outset, it may seem so. What with all the heat in this town, the stereotyping and unending jokes about Mombasa? And talking of jokes, this one refuses to go away; Wapwani bado wanangoja ‘embe dodo’ lianguke mchangani! (Loosely translated: Coastarians are too lazy to even climb a mango tree to pick fruit, they have to wait for it to fall on the ground). I’m yet to see folks doing that, by the way. It's a deep-seated stereotype in the minds of many Kenyans, but on this one, you need to wear other lenses to see a different Mombasa. There are thousands of industrious residents here who despite the heat, work hard to ensure the town does not run low on supply of goods and services.

The iconic Ivory Towers in Mombasa. Photo ~ Courtesy

They are the ones who make your visit here possible.  Well, there are some spoilt brats here and there who fall into that ‘lazy’ category.   

But there is a DISCLAIMER on how to handle them; If you tell them they are lazy (whether as a joke or a fact) they will roast you alive. 

2. THE HEAT 

It becomes tricky when you decide to hit the gym to shed weight. You don’t want to go to some dingy gym with poor ventilation, because with all the coastal heat, you will long for that cool breeze to sweep over you! 

A Tuk Tuk on Mombasa's Moi Avenue. Photo ~ Courtesy

When you visit the coast and complain about the heat to a local, you will most probably be greeted with this well-choreographed response “Hata una bahati sana, leo hakuna joto, umepata kuna baridi!” Buda umechochwa! 

3. TAARAB MUSIC EVERYWHERE

No. You will not find Taarab music, or chakacha, bango or any other genre of coastal music playing on every other street to remind you where you are. This is contrary to the feeling you get after watching those Taarab music shows on TV (they are very few these days) or listen to the same on radio. The hosts, mostly smooth talking Swahili women make you feel like if you don’t listen to good Taarab, your coastal experience is incomplete. True? Not quite…But if you listen keenly to get the nuances hidden in lyrics and everyday talk, it will save you some embarrassment you would have faced if a local called you bad names with a smile on the face, as is the habit of some. Otherwise, others will just laugh at you while you stand there clueless.

4. SPEAKING FLUENT SWAHILI

Some, upon learning they’re heading to Coast, some start polishing their Swahili; sijui misamiati, methali, upupu, mbaazi, pojo, goji girba girba goji …. Others start including the accent as well as polite words in their vocabulary (naomba unisaidie…) in matters they would ordinarily be issuing orders, such as buying goods at a retail shop. Good for you. But why is it that guys stop trying after just a day? Just be yourself. Swahili is a beautiful language, especially if you know it well well.

5. CAN WE EVER GET ENOUGH OF SWAHILI FOODS?

There is no doubt about this, Swahili food is probably the best in the country, coming second after my mother’s cooking. But I digress. When  you are in places such as Nairobi, you need to go to any joint having the initials ‘Lamu, Swahili, Coast, Malindi Dishes/foods’ to get a feel of their food. 

BUT when you come to Mombasa, DON’T go to such places. NEVER EVER. You will pay way too much, for an experience you will not get. Nikutobolee siri…There are known food joints that have very good Biriani, Babu kachir, Shawarma, Vitobosha, mapochopocho mengine, Juice ya Ukwaju, which may not be that popular……Ask around, the locals will show you. Very reasonable prices, and where you get to experience the real Swahili life/talk.

6. IS THE FERRY STILL A TOURIST ATTRACTION?

One of the ferries at the Likoni Crossing. Photo ~ Courtesy

There is a saying among locals; MPELEKE AKASHANGAE FERI! It refers to those from upcountry who have the habit of going to marvel at the Likoni Ferry Channel. Locals here find that very funny  ‘DUDE KUBWA LA ZAMA LAKINI HALIZAMI AISEE’ (That old huge vessel that doesn’t sink). 

Anyway truth be told, if you’ve never boarded a ferry, you need to. I’m told some board, then stay on board as the ferry makes several rounds from end to end. If you must do this, first watch my story about it here and make an informed decision! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTfsjHTGSm4 .Before I forget, PHOTOGRAPHY is NOT allowed at the Ferry, unless you are an accredited journalist (for which you will have some explaining to do).

7. MOMBASA SI MTWAPA!

I’ve heard people make phone calls to friends and relatives upcountry, saying ‘Tunajienjoy sana hapa Mtwapa, hii Mombasa imetulia vizuri bro’. Not just Mtwapa, others replace the Mtwapa in the above sentence with Diani/Ukunda, Lamu, Malindi, Kwale, Watamu, Wasini, etc. But my friend, those places are NOT Mombasa. Mombasa is just a part of  Pwani. If you are not very sure, or you find reading the map ‘Old School’, just use the word Pwani for Coast. You will be safe, the message will sink anyway to the guy on the other side.

8. SWAHILI WOMEN

There are many myths about them. That if you get one from a certain community here, you will be showered with love and even forget where you came from. I can go on and on. This is a contentious subject, and some research is underway... Keep it here….

HAVE WE BECOME ALLERGIC TO ‘SILENCE?’

That title up there is portmanteau, somehow misleading. Here is why…

This article is actually about me. But read on, you may relate. As I type this, music is playing on the stereo. The TV is on. Those two have been ‘yapping’ since morning. It’s almost 6pm. Thing is, I can barely stay in a ‘silent’ house these days (Unless they cut off stima, for which I will throw tantrums). 

The other day I realized, to my dismay, that I prefer boarding buses that are playing music. Mr. Conductor, you are busy calling me to your ‘quiet’ vehicle? Just forget it, I can hardly ‘stand’ a quiet matatu.

6 days without ‘WhatsApp’

But that is just a tip of the iceberg. Last week, my phone’s ‘WhatsApp’ expired. Yes, that happens. But more frustrating is that it simply failed to download the updated version for close to 6 days! That’s almost a whole week without WhatsApp, can you imagine?

Truth be told, I was rather unsettled the first few days. I felt out of touch with the world, locked out. See, I have the privilege of being in many informative groups; where in some, news items are broken way before the rest of the world gets to know.

‘Kabambe’ Vs Smartphone batteries

But surprisingly, the feeling I got when I had no WhatsApp is the same I get mostly when my smartphone’s battery dies (By the way, why haven’t they manufactured one that can go on for  days, while all my applications are on? Oh please, don’t give me that lecture about power banks, we can do better).

What I meant to say before I was ‘politely disrupted’ is that I find it rather difficult to ‘survive’ with my other phone, a ‘kabambe. Apart from its ability to keep charge for days, there isn’t much to talk about it when compared to other phones. Its main functions are making and receiving calls, texts, and when the lights unexpectedly go off at night-Voila! You are sorted…In the streets, they call that ‘mulika mwizi’…

Here comes the allergy

On a serious note though, I think I’ve become ‘allergic’ to silence…I can’t remember the last time I had time with ‘me’. Which is rather worrying, since I now can’t even converse with others for long without glancing at my phone. 

When speaking, I always wonder what we’ll talk about next after we exhaust the current topic. You would think that after studying all those blogs/websites, I would now be very knowledgeable talking to others. Sadly, it’s not the case. And it’s not because of my memory, but that I realized I read them to pass time and ‘appear busy’. 

I’m I a keen listener anymore? Are you? Has this also happened to you? If your answer is yes, ‘we’ are in trouble, big trouble. Yaani, you simply can’t get that gadget off your hands, no matter what or who is around. Scanning through people’s ideas/opinions on the interwebs, then forgetting the next minute what you just read…Ha!

My new Venture

I now have a new venture; to try and reduce time spent on social media (Facebook, twitter, and their addictive cousins), then translate that to doing better things. In silence, I hope to positively engage my mind to see what comes off it. It could be that great idea I’ve always longed for, or better still, hearing that ‘still small voice’ from God; showing me the way.

It’s 7pm already? Time for news...Bye for now. But think about it. If you have become allergic to ‘silence,’ it's time to face it!

COURTESY OF A PTC (Piece to Camera)

You are walking down the street. Thinking about the day gone by; how you have been fairing on in the last few months in your job. You report well. Your stories impact many. Things are not bad.

Then suddenly, something goes wrong, terribly wrong. You don’t realize that you crossed the road while talking on the phone. A city council askari is now on your side, to remind you that you just committed an offence (according to some city by-law).

Picture this; it’s 10pm. You don’t want to go to the cells, nor even sleep there. You don’t want to bribe either. You are a journalist. In fact, you cover and condemn those who receive or give bribes - officials and the public alike.

But you need to go home. You have a big story to cover the following day. You know better than to spent the night in a cell, and then tomorrow appear in court to answer to the charges.

“I’m a journalist. I work on TV. I was in the studio, several people called. But I couldn't pick the calls. I was returning the calls,” you say.

“Yeah…mmmh…I thought so…I was wondering where I saw you. You look somehow familiar,” says the askari, looking at you-suddenly realizing who you are.

“Forgive me. This will not happen again.”

They look at each other. A few minutes later, they let you go. Just like that! Courtesy of a PTC.

But let it not happen again. Donge? 

*FOOTNOTE: For those not familiar with a PTC (Piece to Camera), it's a stand-up. Where a tv journalist appears on camera, reporting from the scene...*