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At the back of the bus, that last Friday of September, 2017, it suddenly hit Cheche hard – what was actually at stake here. ‘If I win the nationals, I get to go and represent Kenya’s ‘under 18s’ in the 1500 metres, track race, World Junior Championship in Montreal, Canada, in 2018.’
In the March of 2018. Montreal, Quebec Province.‘... and I will only be fifteen, and in Form Two, and it will be awesome.’Another key word cut short Cheche’s daydream.
‘BURN.’
Then she knew if she were discovered among the school bags, she would be in for something far more serious than just Jeb sitting on her face and giving her a few jab jabs for frustrating her winning dreams, at every twist of the track, and every turn of the 1500 meter race.
“We as Form Threes, are not ready for the K.C.S.E entry exams they have foolishly scheduled for mid to end October, instead of the normal mid-to-end November. I didn’t know what the hell has come over our stupid head master, Ocampo.”
“Manze, you would if you actually attended morning assembly, Moze, you moron!” Cheche recognised the voice as that of a boy called Damian.
Moses missed and skipped so many classes and lessons that when other students ran into him in the corridors, they were surprised he had not long dropped out. Moze was like one of those really old fellows one assumes died way back in 2009 or something...
Then you run into them, full of health and vigor, at the local supermarket, buying greens and grinning at everyone.
One teacher had even asked the Form Three class at the start of the September term to “welcome the new student, (Moses), with three hearty claps”, to the eternal amusement of his classmates.
“We will just have to burn the school down, amigos,” said Kipyegon in a voice so casual that Cheche at first assumed the javelin thrower was joking.
Until the other lad, Damian, who was actually quite clever but a terrible rebel, in the full throes of teenage angst and anger (he had even spoken about joining the Ass La Sababu terror group) went into minute detail about the date they would do the dirty deed, and where they would purchase the petrol to burn the school.
“A regular meeting of OPEC chieftains,” Asembo would say later, long after many bad things had happened at Mokongu Mixed Secondary School, and people were in hospital; during the dinner governor Pollman Turot was organizing for all the county winners of the races, who were to clash at the regional races in little over a month’s time.
The regional race was scheduled for Saturday, October 28th, 2017
The governor was sponsoring the county winners’ dinner for the Saturday of October 14th, 2017.
The Form Four Entry Exams for form three students at Mokongu were to begin on the Tuesday of October 17th, all the way to the Friday of October 30th (2017), the day before the regional races.
Jeb Jab Jab and her motley crew were plotting to make sure there would be no such mock examinations in Mokongu Mixed high school. At least not until after The Fire, when they would be better prepared. Heck, if their other comrade Ahmed’s ‘salt the earth’ speech about ‘razing the school to the ground’ was anything to go by, Mokongu Mixed secondary school would cease to exist, simply be erased from earth by fire and gasoline.
Like one of those chemistry re-action formulae that Mr. Chemogen, the Chemistry master, with the favourite ‘prown chaget’ he always wore (even when it was scorching hot!) would write on the classroom board, understood by few, which he always left afterwards on the blackboard after his lesson. These equations glared coldly in chemistry chalk at the class. As if to say, ‘oh, how silly you all are. You will never understand me.’ A couple conversation Cheche would participate in one day, a long way away from this Friday, when 2017 would be a meme mostly remembered in teen melody, and little more.
Like that ‘Gasolina’ song her mom used to sing her, in Spanish, as a lullaby when she was two.
‘Ella prende las turbinas/ baby no discrimina/ A ella le gusta la gasoline/ Dame mas gasoline...’
Smitta Bonus: Today’s piece is an excerpt from my latest YA book ‘Run, Cheche, Run’ which will be unveiled alongside two others at the Burt Award 2016 literary gala dinner tonight. It is relevant to younger Pulsers because it is all about academics, adventure, athletics and arson (aka school fires). Do get you a copy next week.
