HARD School recollections

Ahhhh, man...we have passed through some hard times, have been somewhat exposed to a bit of danger, at an early age... but this is the world, where nothing comes on a silver platter.

So, I remember climbing those mountains about rwenzori's height going to primary school. The rock-strewn mountains with steep slippery slopes where I used to pass to go to Lukuli primary school. That school I joined for P7 has been my constant source of wonder because I got out of there with aggregate 7 in PLE. That was my first biggest achievement in childhood.

Whats funny about it is that nobody in my family knows where that school is, nobody has ever gone there, except Abel who was sent there after me, and he didnt quite stay there long, as the H/Master was not able to accomodate another 'foreign' student for a year.

Then came high school, the period I've dubbed HARD school. In the Ugandan Education System, High School means the classes from senior One to Six. So I spent my high school's 6 years in a moslim founded, administration and moslim dominated school...East High School, located in Ntinda, 1 km off kisaasi road on the Eastern side of kampla city.

Some times school food would be too bad and I remember the recipies most o times included bean weevels and posho of the world's lowest quality. The sight of that meal on my plate during the lunches has since killed my appetite forever.

One day during Idd period, I took it further with my long time friend Bashaija Horrace and wrote a complaint letter addressed to the principal, about the bad food that was being served to non-moslm students and shoved it under the door of the staff room after night preps, under the cover of darkness, then ran away to our dorms and waited to see the response the next day. Ofcourse to be known for having written such a mystery letter, of all staff to the principal, would mean expulsion from school or a thorough beating up and spending a day on your knees in the staff room.

But lucky enough, the next day, instead of posho and bean weevils, we saw a totally different meal being served at the cafeteria.

So on that day, I and Horrace celebrated on the cassave mixed with beans meal, in the knowledge that we had caused change in a peaceful way, to the advantage of a few hundred christians in that school.

We thought the principal might have known better than to sit on such an explosive issue if it was caught up by the rest of the students.

But he remains one of the most respectable men I have met in my time. He used take us away from school thinking and tell us real world issues as if he was the father of those hundreds of children from different walks of the ugandan society. He became a darling of my father who urged him to keep a close watch on me and that meant I got more punishments than an average student. That man and deputy principal Khaukha Mohammed, I am forever indebted to them for what I got out of that School.