HIGH SCHOOL CHRONICLES PT 2

I think it is really a pity that my mother taught me manners. Because I really want to drag some people. By name.

Why am I writing about high school years after I have been there? High school, at least in my education system, takes up four out your six teenage years. Teenage hood is the period in time where we are all finding ourselves. Creating our identities. This is the time whether we either lose or find ourselves. This is where growth happens. It is like the moment when a butterfly breaks out of the chrysalis. If its wings are broken or clipped at this stage it may never be able to soar. So, whatever happens during those 4 years has a very large impact on how we turn out to be. And I will talk about it.

Someone told me to mention our blue trousers. As part of unofficial clothes, the school offered two really unflattering navy blue sets of trousers. You see those KPLC overalls? Yes, something like that. In fact, I think their overalls look better. We were allowed to wear them during the evening preps and during the weekends outside special school functions. Remember how I mentioned they were unflattering; this is where that comes in. For the cool kids who couldn’t wear that for whatever reason, they could buy a more flattering pair from Connate and Outfitters. I say flattering because they were narrow where they were supposed to be and wide where they were supposed to be. And of course, the material was different. The only common thing was the color, of which they could get away with a slightly lighter shade or a slightly darker one.

A big shout out to Madame Geke, our deputy principal and teacher of French. Yes, I did French in my first year of high school.

Comment allez-vous mesdames et messieurs?

You know how they say that one parent spoils the children while another is in charge of discipline? Madame Geke was in charge of discipline, and boy, wasn’t she strict. Other than that, I personally found her to be a humorous and admirable lady. Yeah, it was all funny until that day she walked into my physics class doing a detention from our teacher and sent us to her office for a beating where we were supposed to say thank you after the beating. During her tenure before her transfer, she pioneered the Aca-Bush, which unfortunately nobody kept going after she left. I missed her witty and thought-provoking remarks in the small journal.

Someone also mentioned Valentines Day. Hehe, we were special girls. Roses for everyone, and cake for every class!! We’d go for parade and take pictures. I’m going to attach pictures and links to newspaper articles here. We weren’t called the best school north of Cape town for nothing.

https://www.citizen.digital/news/students-staff-at-alliance-girls-celebrate-valentines-day-n292451

https://litkenya.com/alliance-girls-celebrate-man-who-delivers-their-love-notes-at-alliance-boys/

Now around the school there were these little placards? Sign boards? Whatever the name, you should get the idea. They had different quotes and sayings written on them. I remember one saying ‘you give us girls, we give you ladies of substance’ if my memory serves me right. Then there was another one around the physics lab that always made me laugh. I can’t remember what it said. I just know it made me laugh.

Who do I think deserves a pay rise the most in that school? Mr. Njuguna, the mail man. Apart from his usual duties, that is official correspondence, he did a lot more. He made sure that the little love letters students wrote to our brother school got there safely and the replies got to us too. Apart from that, students would send him to buy some necessities which weren’t available in the school tuck shop from the closest supermarket like thermal cups, alarm clocks among others. I remember wanting to send a success card to my sister who was in her final year of high school in a different county. I was worried about it not getting to her because it was a bit far and it would be a hassle. Despite my misgivings, he promised to make sure it reached her. And guess what, it did! Despite the bulk of the work he had to do I never once saw that man not smiling. I hope this man gets his flowers.

Another shout out to our unofficial school DJ. Legend. I remember this one time the principal insisted on us listening to one genre of music which a lot of people were not happy with. So, while she was there, he would play what she wanted and when she left he would play what we wanted. When she came back, he would seamlessly switch back to her favored genre. Very thrilling if you ask me. Absolute legend that man. Entertainment nights were always on point.

The year book. The picture there, that isn’t me. That’s a mugshot. Am I the one who answered those questions? Highly doubt it. That mugshot will go down as black history. Is it the ugly stitching of BWM on my sweater? Is it the gray polo visible through my collar? Is it the small Avicii sign on the front of my collar? (I was obsessed with Avicii, still am. May his soul rest in peace). I guess we’ll never know. In my defense, the school demanded that everyone label their stuff due to rising cases of missing and stolen clothes. And those stitches are what I paid for and what the tailor gave me. I should have done it myself, but anyway.

So, on Fridays we used to have community work (comm work). This was basically a general cleaning of the school and every class was assigned a particular area to clean. The principal used to say ‘work willingly and cheerfully’. I didn’t have a problem with that. Not really. Enter white scouring powder on a pavement. I swear the white never used to come out. So whenever possible we would run for liquid soap and pour it on our individual slabs. If you were unlucky a captain would pour more scouring powder on your slab with vengeance. Good luck in getting that out. Do you know what some of them used to determine if your slabs were clean? Tissue. Surely Brenda, the chances of white tissue coming back spotless from any clean surface is one out of 10. Also, the fact that it was class work meant that there were some uncooperative people you would always have problems with. Definitely not a good way to end a Friday evening.

To end this on a musical note again, shout out to the school orchestra. Those girls played with their hearts and I as a person irrevocably obsessed with all things music was there to appreciate it whenever they performed. Especially when the Rift Valley Academy (RVA band) used to come over. Music galore. Good music galore. Live orchestra? Yes please. Any day.

When they sit, we stand.
When they stand, we stand out.
When the stand out, we become outstanding.

See you, or not, with more chronicles of the great bush.