Of
the continuation of life, passing exams and going to renowned national schools.
It was the best four years of life that largely shaped who I am today, my grace
or lack of thereof which is very rare by the way…climbing hurdles, occasionally
passing math exams and finally passing the ultimate exams in high school which
was not a surprise because I read hard anyway.
The
initial days of making friends was not a problem, naturally, I got many friends
but gradually became withdrawn when each and every situation keeps reminding
you, no, something is not a little right with you :D and of answering questions
according to the seating arrangements. IT’S YOUR TURN!!! Which one?
Long
and excruciating double Kiswahili Fasihi lessons with mumbling teachers, I have
nothing against Kiswahili in fact, I’m deeply intrigued by this language. I just
wish my teacher was a whole lot more dramatic.
It
is now time to go to a qualified specialist. So on Fridays I’ll miss those
classes (yes!) to go to town (Lion’s Eye Bank, Loresho, the Ear Unit) with many
a great hopes for salvation and behold I’d warned my friends, “Be careful what
you say about me now.” They just smiled.
And truly words cannot express the crushing disappointment I had when I got my first hearing aid. It was analogue, the one in the picture above, left and lasted only 3 weeks though my dad came all the way from home at the call from the school to pay a whooping 40k for that was the price of an analogue piece of junk.
When
a hole developed in the plastic tube, I could no longer use it. It produced a
funny whistling sound that made the class laugh. Then I had to use the spare
one, which also, a few days later, malfunctioned! I was in form two by then and
had days of Kiswahili lessons to endure till the Friday to go look for the
doctor.
But
he says, this is a big problem, Florence. I am just a doctor there is nothing I
can do I would have to send it back to Germany but it’s not worth it. In my
head, me and my classmates invent new hearing aids and set up a factory in
Nairobi. And voila! The doctor gives me another analogue pair (above right) for
FREE. I still strongly feel that my father should go and claim back the money
he had paid earlier.
Anyway
I made through my second form and most of my third form, scribbling Kiswahili nonsense
in my book during the Fasihi and set book sessions. I do not hate Kiswahili. During
a career fair I found a brochure from the Upper Hill medical Centre guys about the
more advanced devices of technology and three months later I had me a customized
digital gadget from South Africa. Praise Jesus, though they cost a fortune, I was
better off.
It
served me diligently for almost two years, then one fateful night; I woke up to
the sinister feeling of a silhouette was hovering over my bedroom window. Ah
I’m just groggy. It shone a spotlight through the window. Ah my sister went to
pee and now she wants to scare me. In the morning, the window pane was broken
and a couple of my stuff on the table near the window was gone and with them my
impressive piece of technology. The silhouette the thief, I hope it serves him
well.
Pain
wanders through my bones like a lost fire. What burns me now? Desire, desire,
desire. Those words of Sir Theodore Roethke aptly describe my life and dreams.
My faith wavers, but only for a while, fears confine me, but not for so long a
time. Because I’m a firm believer that the tragedy of life is what we let die
inside of us while we live, therefore I will set forth at dawn for my dreams to
pursue, whatever it takes, having to face my fears from time to time but
cowering not.
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