"Good morning Class."
Our stern maths teacher darkens the door wearing a devious grin. Mr Dick is an old and bouyant bald-headed buster, telescoped in a short , lanky body. A protruding acromegalic jaw daubs his mysterious face giving him a phantom look. I have to admit that he looks ugly and even terrifies the lower-grade students.
"I suppose you have done the project I assigned you for the holiday."
He grunts as he lays down his inseparable sidekick - the bamboo stick which he didn't mind using on you in the most profligate manner if you happened to flout the school rules .
"Yes!"
We reply tersely while at the same time hurriedly delve into our bags looking frantically for our Math's exercise books.
" That's good I'll check on them later ."
"Ok , the topic of today is Ratio and Proportions." He says as he scribbles on the blackboard with a pulverulent piece of chalk.
"Excuse me sir , can I come in . Sorry for interrupting." A voice like the sound of clarion call pierces the still morning air and ends with a meek cadence.
"Yes. Come in." A baritone voice welcomes it tinged with a shadow of light-heartedness.
"Chris, follow me to the staff quarters right away. Sorry , I need this dweeb. I'll return him asap."
She enthuses as she casts a furtive glance at me.
"No problem." He gesticulates.
She heaves a sigh of relief as she notices he has acceded to her request , then she thanks him and stomps out with me tagging along.
She reaches the Staff Quarters, hesitates for a moment before pushing the steel door to reveal an array of teachers busy conversing and marking books.
The room is clean but austerely furnished . A long rectangular table crammed with piles of books and papers takes up most of the room's space , panelled on either side by a neat line of teachers.
Some of the teachers notice me and quickly drifts away their attention except for occasional piercing gazes that shoots at me from my back .
She arrives at her chair in the far right-hand corner of the room , sits on it and slowly twists her neck to lock gazes with me. I look past her as anxiety started gnawing at me.
When I am in her presence , I always feel nervous which I kinda don't know why.
"Huh , there he is ." Snyder says eagerly as he enters the room .
"Gotcha."
William Snyder Diggle is my favourite teacher apart from miss Garie .
" So lemme go straight to the point. I think you donno why we called you"
"Right."
"Can I ask you one thing? I've never heard about your mother . What's her name."
"Why do you ask?" I ask with knitted brows.
"Just tell me . Ain't in a debate."
"Ok . Her name is Catherine Droit." I grunt.
" Garie that name doesn't click in my head. I think she can't be one of us ."He says as he directs an insinuating glance at Miss Garie who had been silent.
" You bet, anyway we'll get them soon . It was so much of a setback that none of them wants to get together. The police is also unreliable, Snyder I miss them. Do you ? I think one day all these would end..." Mr Garie who had assumed an unreadable countenance ago started shedding tears and looked like she had aged decades .
This...What the freakin hell is going on here ?You call me ,ask what my mother's name is , exchange incomprehensible words , and then you weep.
Why do I feel like you're so fickle-minded? Do you guys have OCDs?
I am confused but I try to camouflage it with a concerned face.
"Ooh Chris , sorry for bothering you . Now get back to class." Mr Garie dismisses me.
"Sure."
I say hiding my starting-to-get-irate face.
Surely, calling someone and then dismissing them as if moving robots. That ain't right.
Anyway the entire confab piqued my curiosity. Filling in all the pieces and factoring the ones today into the puzzle that had plagued me a while , methinks that they were suspecting that my mother was sort of their distant relative . Their relatives that had spread far and wide from each other in unknown places because if they got together, Jakachinja Clandestine Organisation will track their whereabouts to procure the mysterious briefcase.
I scamper to the class only to find Mr Dick ranting ; Aargh his lesson never ends.
I don't know why our school teaches Maths more frequently than other subject , it's unfair. Imagine that last week we had not had a single lesson for social studies . And yet Maths was being taught ad infinitum, in the morning and in the afternoon. It is as if the other subjects are insignificant. Not that I loved Maths less, but I loved social studies more. At least the lesson is not so boring like Math's . Moreover , the social studies teacher, Mr Steve Ouma was quiet a jolly bloke compared to Mr Dick who was nerveless and totally uninteresting even though he looks light-hearted. It is the reason why we had a jaundiced view of Math's lessons . Serves him right.
Our Math's teacher is still teaching algebra . The sun's now scorching the earth while foreboding clouds hover clumsily in the sky . Excited birds flurry in the nearby sapling siala trees that sway drunkenly amidst the eddies that pronounced one thing, it's gonna bucket down soon.
The Math's lesson goes on with Mr Dick's rantings and after some minutes the ringing of the bells disrupts the calm ambience of the school compound marking the end of the first ho-hum lesson that had ever been taught in the morning.
Mr Dick walks out after giving us a mountain of assignments. I am relieved at least he steps out of this class for Heaven's sake.
I canter to the washrooms as fast as possible as his figure disappeared in the Staff Quarters .
After a few minutes of business I am running on the dry , sun-baked ground towards the classroom.
As I enter the classroom, I see our science teacher , Miss Flakey emerging out of the staffroom carrying a few books and papers. Hhhmm
There comes death!
I take my seat beside Rodgers who was patently happy and eager waiting for the results that I'm sure I have already failed dismally. I had completely ran out of time during undertaking Science CAT 2 because I had entered the Exam room late after a heavy lunch. I had filled in the papers with guesses that I even now regret.
" This gonna be great. How many marks do you think you'll garner Chris." Rodgers enthuses.
It's when I come to know the reason for his apparent excitement. Probably expecting the contested prize because she had promised that the leading person will get an award.
"Donno . Maybe 50 percent, guessed
too much ."
" Are you sure?"
"Yep Roj!"
"That's Ok." He says as if heaving a sigh of relief.
"What's ok?" I ask clearly puzzled . Man ! Are you a schadenfreude ? My best friend ! Can't believe it.
"Nothin it's jus that I look forward for that award now that you aren't on the potential board."
" Don't push your luck , Roj ." I'm annoyed by his curt remark . Nevertheless , I know I'm gonna fail.
Miss Flakey greets us enthusiastically before sitting on the teacher's chair in front of the class . She looks as if she is from heaven and back. That can attributed to the possibility of us passing the test with teeming marks . I am curious to know the person who is going to receive the award .
" Actually , you've all passed the test, I'm proud of you guys ."
That is music to my ears but my curiosity isn't satisfied . I can't help but feel like am the only person who has ever failed dismally. Before I could ask her who is leading in the test, Mark chips in to do the job.
Miss Flakey apparently ignores him leaving him looking like a person who's consumed something bitter.
We stifle a laugh.
"Today we are having a Viva Voce . "
As she says without touching on the results part , before being interrupted by Mr. Greg , a short chunky man with deep set eyes that seemed to have aged because of fifteen years of packing, reading and organising books . Of course he is the famous school librarian who won't hesitate to claptrap you with the nitty-gritties of how glorious his job is .
He motions theatrically at Mr Flakey and gives her a script before stomping out .
That must be the results script I surmise and as if confirming my guesses , she says : " This is your results paper. I'll read it once we're done with Viva Voce, Ok."
"Noted miss." We thunder in unison.
The Viva Voce was almost ending when the bell chimed.
From the last mark to the top mark , Miss Flakey started reading the script as we listened avidly in a deathlike silence. I await with bated breath and at last I hear my name as the first runner-up .At least that not so bad ,I heave a sigh of relief.
Amazingly , Roj took the first position leaving us green with envy. After that we come out of the classroom as he tags along with Miss Flakey towards the Staff Quarters to get his preordained award.
I stand on the stoep looking pensive , the morning conversation of Mr Garie and Snyder tarrying in my head.
I try to relegate it to the back of my mind but it is futile , it keep reappearing and haunting me every now and then. I simply feel like I should help them out of their morass. But how ? I'm but an insignificant eighth-grade lad. I can't watch her suffer yet she has done so much for me . I'm helpless and knowing that they are entangled in a predicament pains me so much.
The wind blows lackadaisically and the sun is scorching hot.
The whole school is noisy with everyone frantically moving here and there,some playing and sipping the hot gruel while others relished in the cookies and ice creams they bought from the peddlers. I sit on the stoep , musing over that queer confab. It was so strikingly similar to one I overheard my mother talking with someone over the phone but the details are marred by the past.
Can my mother be related to them? Can they be my relatives ?
Because it's so strange for me to have never seen my relatives even my cousins and grandparents. In addition to that , Catherine never broach any subject concerning her relatives.
I can't help but feel something is definitely off though I'll bide my time .
Pungent smoke permeates through the air , a sign that the School Chef is preparing lunch for the teachers who were now conversing in the staffroom . The sky is covered with rain-laden clouds .
A loud ringing of the bell causes a mad rush . Apparently , the whole school is running frantically towards their classes with others toppling over each other . This was the sign of the deep fear they hard for Mr Dick who was the T.O.D of the week.
I'm lucky I didn't go very far from the classroom or else I could not survive such a wild stampede.
We got to class and after one hour of LS lesson the bells rang indicating lunchtime .
Today , I feel like I did not want to go home because I had already known that there would be no food judging how Catherine ranted and raved on how she was broke last night .
As the eighth-grade students strolled away from the class heading to their homes , I sit on my desk pretending to be sick.
Some of them shoot unconcerned glares and others sorry me with voices tinged with feigned concern.
Rodgers and Antony , my only comrades who I always count on , promise to bring me lunch even though I can't tell them the reason why I don't want to go home . It's because there's no food and mum is dangerously broke , this the only last statement I've ever wanted to flow out of my mouth .
I walk out of the classroom taking a trip to the river down the school to cool down from the hot afternoon air. The leafless trees sway phantasmally amid incessant twitter of birds filling the vicinity while the wind is whistling in the nearby woods .
I arrive at River Siany , it looks forlorn ,aloof and undisturbed from the regular passersby who would occasionally stop to wash their clammy faces .
It is unnervingly quite except for occasional whirlpools. A heavy downpour is on the brink. I muse.
I dip my hand in the lukewarm running water apparently flowing through the woods and disappearing into the bushes that siege it.
I hunker down while the cool ambience breeds the thoughts that I had tried hard to hurl to the back of my mind. The thoughts of how distressed my two favourite teachers were . Thoughts about them always cloud my mind. It's as if I'm bound to them in a way.
A slight ripple form on the water as a vermin of flies invade the calm water before a fetid smell drives away the aura of tranquility that had loomed over the area .
I feel discombobulated for a while before trying to check what is amiss.
I get on my feet and sweep the area with a fleeting gaze before landing on the hullabaloo on the surface of the water.
I see something that affronts my curiosity . A dark , fuzzy thingy interspersed with layers of scaly white is slowly rising from the clear water .
What the....
I choke on my words as a humanly adumbration surfaces on the water swathed by a vermin of all creatures I abhor , flies , ants , leeches and worms rankled into it as if it were the sweetest honey in the world.
I am scared and a piercing scream materializes from the depths of my bony chest disrupting the silence in the surrounding , as another putrid corpse reveal itself.
I'm dead shocked .
By the time my shock had subsided a notch , a throng of people who were alarmed by my shriek appeared from all sides to converge at the scene. They talk in hushed tones as I narrate to some of them from the time I sat at the river only to gross out upon seeing the rotting corpses .
I stand at the side of the river only to be intrigued by a dialogue between two familiar people who I presume I had seen somewhere.
" This must be the Jakachinja again." One of them notes in a derisive tone.
" I'm jus sick of these county . Hardly do we have peace. It's time we go for a remonstration before we get wiped out ."
" I think remonstration isn't a bad idea but let's not be naive as to think that they won't retaliate and cause gross destruction upon our families if they hear we're trying to call the attention of the CDF in Hilwa . Communication isn't possible either because they have hijacked even the Telecommunications Authorities. "A tall bald-headed bloke with nails and face that spoke volumes of his smoking ventures says with a repudiating tone .
"No ! We have to do something Otieno. We gotta do something. We can't just sit back as death gnaws at us everyday . Last week two children were reported missing only to be found butchered and discarded in this same same river as if they were satchels for holding their black market merchandise. Can't you see that Otis ?"
The man argues as he hides his inflamed voice but her pallid eyes belies him.
"I know but let's be keen fir-" He gets interrupted by a police wagon that pulls up beside the river which its gurgling sounds have been overshadowed by the heated talks of the onlookers. Apparently, the two corpses that are etiolated with the water have been pulled out of the water by some brave men.
"So I was saying we should be careful . Let's not rush even the police aren't trustworthy....."
"You sound like an accomplice of this freaking gang, my friend . I can't help but suspect you."
"No!God forbid , I thought you are my friend , why are you accusing me of getting in cohorts with Jakachinja?"
He looks terribly hurt as he brushes his well manicured hair with his gruff hands exuding an unexplainable vibe. But, I think I smell a rat.
"Then why does it seem like you're defending this heinous gang that's ravaging this county . Look at how they're killing our children like pests . This two corpses here are my dear children!"
The man asserts emotionally as tears well up in his blue eyes . He swats them off and looks at Otieno with an accusing look as if he was the one who killed his two sons who are now lying with their stomach slain barbarously.
I get clearly confounded to learn that one of them is the father of the two slaughtered children. Nevertheless, I can't help my eavesdropping.
"I am going ."
The suspicious bloke looks disconcerted and then with an abrupt turn he disappears in the throng of people but I feel like I should follow him . There is something bizarre about him that piqued my curiosity. More so , how he acted oddly during their talk and I also noticed something like a jackknife dangling from his baggy jacket.
I don't know what nudged me to follow his trail despite the dangers of being captured by him.
I see him shoving and pushing amidst the crowd and being yelled at occasionally by the massive influx of onlookers.