Often this memory echoes poignantly in my brain, this one time, very long ago living in a town so tiny such that everyone knew everyone. Small towns are bad for growing boys because if everyone knows you, your mother and father and probably your grand folks too, they will not hesitate to report mischief which I was quite accustomed to back then.
I remember one day after school fighting a certain boy who was also my cousin after we had a disagreement about cars. A gardener happens to see us and being a gifted storyteller, captures the drama and reality of the scene, explains cause and effect without distorting any through any personal prejudice to our deputy head teacher who was mean and severe in punishment. I have never forgotten the pain of being dragged in front of the whole school, be put in an untenable position of having to explain what happened, commanded to renact the fight then get hit severally on the buttocks by several teachers.
I wandered off, so this time I was not in mischief in fact if anything I remember been scared which is unusual because I always dump bad feelings deep into the ditch where no memory can ever fetch them. It was in the dead of night and the small town lay to sleep. An unusual silence prevailed the night and then without a warning a squeak loud shrill runs the sleepy town and everyone as if bestowed with agility is up but not me. Now understand that to this moment am still asleep this story is narrated to me, I will tell you when I wake up which is going to be around twenty five to thirty minutes after the scream.
Fire! Fire! Fire!!!
Dad and Mom obliged to the danger alarm with a swift move to the yard only to find half the town in a horrendous inferno. Fast forward to when I wake up, mom wakes me up and informs me there was a problem. Mom only woke me up when I was about to wet the bed (no idea how she did that) or to go to school. I directly noticed something was amiss since it was time for neither. I remember the bright yellow flames, mean flares inducing a little warmth on my face drawing a chill from my bones and stiffness from my muscles, shaking like a loosely held twig on a windy day. I was scared.
The cause of this fright was not the burning flames or the screaming chaotic town, No, that I had seen so many times. Small towns are a disaster, they believed demons caused such misfortunes and I believed too which I find the idea of demons to be ridiculously stupid right now but I believed then. I was scared at the mist ahead beyond the blazing inferno, the fact that I did not know what would happen next.
Often a fire blazes inside to do great things, if you still believe in changing the world, several times you will feel this relentless urge. A conviction that will make lay wide awake in bed in the dead of night doing unforthcoming mental mathematics, and you will turn, then again, if you are lucky to be alone in bed at such a night you might even make a 180 degree spin in bed where the head becomes the foot and consequently the foot becomes the head. The blankets will feel uncomfortable, perhaps too heavy or not. You will get tired of closing your eyes so you will face the roof and open them wide. A raging inferno that has made your mind a battle field.
You will lay a game plan to initialize this great plan of yours but one thing will stand on your way, what will happen next? After sleepless nights, consultations and mind blowing research among others. Will the idea fall through? Will you be dragged in the same filth you have been running away from all these years? Will the people love it? Will the fire die out? The last one prickles your skin like a dangerous thorn.
The Firefighting truck gradually reducing speed as it rumbled slowly through a maze of shunts arrives just in time to save 20 percent of the town. Its brakes screeched in protest as it came to a stop filling the crisp early morning air with a pungent sting of diesel fumes. The shaken small Dennis is awed at the pressure water killing the fire instantly. Mom says I can now go back to bed but will I be sleeping tonight?
The annual Miss University Kenya is happening at KICC on 31st this month and we are lucky to have one of us running for Miss University 2015. You must remember Maureen from What to Wear Today (Read Here) a post she wrote and subsequently modeled a while back. Lovely, isn’t she? Vote for us like you have always done and as we bring the trophies home, it becomes our win as we toast to greatness. (Vote Here)
Here is a brief portfolio on her:
Business student at Kenyatta University. Outgoing, charismatic and hardworking in attempt to impact the world using gained professional and experience skills. A religious lover of art, fashion, poetry and enthusiastic about modelling. In addition enjoys learning, socializing and rock climbing. A Christian and stands for protection of human life and environment.
Photos of Bonfire from Mt Kenya School of Leadership and Adventure (KeSAL)
Photos by Sam Munyiri. (View on Instagram)