Mori Dhano was a very protective “father” to me even though he deeply loved making fun of me in the wee hours of the night. He was a nocturnal animal preferring to study deep into the night and making sure that everybody was awake upon his return, usually past one pm. “Nyathini, ong’edni idonje gi kanye?” (Kid, how do I get into this blanket?). This was his usual question in the wee hours of the night upon his return from the nocturnal activities. It was the duty of the sons to spread their fathers’ beds but Mori never wanted any justice done to his bed as, maybe - just maybe, he wanted to resist the powers that were. Failure to spread the beds would lead to severe consequences to the sons. I decided to obey the powers against Mori’s wish and this was why Mori insisted on waking me up when sleep was sweetest to show him the modalities of getting into his blanket. When I got tired of waking up, I decided to be spreading his bed in the morning and unspreading it in the night. From that time I no longer heard his voice in the night.
Another issue arose with this skeleton but mouthy foster dad; he was okey with me sitting on his bed until Patrick, my friend, surfaced. He claimed that Patrick’s pointed buttocks created holes into his slim mattress while my protruding behind was thinning the same old ugly thing. I wondered why Mori was abusing the name of mattress – that thing didn’t deserve to be called by that name. We told him that transferring him to the upper decker would solve the problem and he obliged. That night Mori Dhano, studied until dawn. “Ma ng’a ma onindo e otandani?” (Who is this sleeping on my bed?), that friendly photocopy of a human being asked. I had to wake up to show him where his bedding was – on the top decker. Top deckers were meant for form ones and twos; and we used to be woken with stokes of canes. As soon as I showed Mori where to sleep, the bell waking up junior forms, rung and I rushed to the dining hall. Our decker, with Mori, was the very first one on the door and the prefects on duty had no idea that it was no longer me on top but Mori. I understand Mori received several strokes of the cane from the form three prefect on duty. That is when the prefect understood why some people are reffered to as Mori Dhano. This created tension between form threes and fours for a whole week. “Jo form three gi ochawa. Giparo ni tinde gipong” (These form threes are looking down upon us. They think they’ve grown up) shouted the form fours on sighting any form three.
Mori never used to wash his blue coated aluminum plate. The plate had acquired so many dents due to the way its handler was throwing it under the beds where it would stay until the next meal. One time I decided to be washing the plate and keeping it safely in his weak, ever unlocked mabati (iron) box. That day, Mori Dhano went looking for his noisy plate under every bed towards the direction in which he threw it after the previous meal. He was not very happy when I informed him that I had washed and kept it safely in his ugly box. Subsequently, I decided to be washing and getting it back under the beds for the sake of peace. (I miss you Mori).
I did not like the way the form fours became overly rowdy and unmanageable when they were approaching their final exams, Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education, but I was still in the category of those who were there “to be seen but not to be heard”. I decided to do something about it without thinking of the consequences. The easiest way to communicate to these hooligans was through a poem which I entitled “BIG BABIES”. It was an eight stanza poem, very long to communicate everything in my mind. I took it to my literature teacher, the dreaded Mr. Obunga for review before pinning it on the lockable school notice board. All the form fours went on the rampage looking for this, Migingo Awat, everywhere. On my part, I had no idea that the “demining” poem had been “published” on the notice board. They finally caught up with me in my dorm. No need to say more; I would have lost all my hair and teeth were it not for Mori Dhano and our Dorm Captain. I was thoroughly roughed up by these big babies.
The portions of the poem read:
“With plates hidden in their bellies
They rush to the dining hall
Shame is foreign in their minds
As they eat never to be full
Staying patiently as the juniors are served
Dogs waiting for umbilical cords
“Adiso!! Adiso!!” they scream
Scrumbling back to the queue
Hungry refugees scrumbling for aid
Big babies is what they’re called
“Spoons are their pens
Plates – books
They bully their juniors for deserts
The ones they’re meant to protect”
That evening the form fours planned to cane form twos courtesy of the poem. Mr. Obunga had to come to the assembly to calm the situation warning anybody who touched the “brilliant student” of dire consequences. That night I was whisked away to another dormitory by my trusted form four cousin, Elly Masudi, where I spent the night.”This kid has balls!” One four shouted on sighting me the following morning. Oh yes I had not only balls but also apparatus and horns to speak my mind. Senior students were not supposed to behave stupidly.
As much as we, the form twos, had graduated from washing the pit latrines and the abolition block after the arrival of form ones, things took a reverse turn from the date of the poem. Prefects started assigning us, the duties that ordinarily belonged to form ones. My stream literally blamed me for this. ‘Form four pong’o dhok” (Form 4 fills the mouth) were like bees which were not supposed to be poked.
One day I
was summoned by the Senior School Prefect (SSP), Ampher Apidi, to go to
the dining hallwith my two open eyes. My fellow form twos advised me not to attempt unless I wanted to be pronounced dead on arrival.and apologise to the form fours. I knew something very hot was boiling somewhere and I was the one to be dipped in it - I refused to adhere to the summons. That time dining hall had been turned into an examination center and where they wanted me to stand while addressing the over one hundred and twenty “big babies” had no exit route. Disobeying the summons of the SSP was tantamount to asking for your own death. Next, they sent Odeny, at around 8pm, and that’s when my blood went on an overdrive boiling point. I knew something was definitely fishy. When my uncle Okoko, came for me personally in class, just a few minutes after Odeny, I felt I had to tell him my mind. I sincerely loved this uncle of mine even after neglecting me but I couldn’t allow him to take me to the burning fiery furnace
“Uncle, please tell your fellow form fours that I’m sorry for saying the truth in that manner but I will not dare take myself to the dining hall” I reasoned. “Please let Ampher come for me personally and pick me in the presence of my classmates. I know he will be responsible for whatever happens to me thereafter” I requested. After telling me how disappointed he was in me, he left back to his colleagues.
I thereafter lived in constant fear until the close of the term. One Sunday I preached to the whole school on "Love and forgiveness" and people were really blessed. Odeny as was his custom, responded to the alter call and got “saved”. I surely laid my hands on that demon infested head. It was so sweet laying hands of my bully. Odeny was one man I would refer to as a “pulpit customer”. He had other four friends who would get saved every Sunday morning just to please the preacher. There were these preachers who would take too long calling for people to be saved and unless somebody went forward, we would sleep in church. That was where Odeny came to students’ rescue – getting saved for the sake of time.
Yours in poetry,
Migingo Awat
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