Sister-in-Campus 24

“We can only help you if we know why you are crying” Antonice said to Joyce who was sobbing uncontrollably. Antonice was still holding Joyce’s baby who by now had already fallen asleep on her arms.

Madam Gladys moved towards her and sat by her side, “Please go ahead tell us what happened out there.”

“I almost killed someone” she answered amidst the sobs. “I didn’t know I had such temper to almost want to smash a bottle on someone’s head”

“Oh my God what happened to warrant that kind of treatment to someone?” Antonice asked and that moment Joyce realized she would have to narrate the whole incident to them if she didn’t not want to answer questions endlessly. Unlike Antonice Madam Gladys was a very good listener by far. She never interrupted her as she narrated her story like Antonice used to do narrate and even try to complete statements for her.

“Just let her narrate it alone even when she is struggling to remember something unless you want to narrate it on her behalf” Madam Gladys said when she noticed Antonice was interrupting Gladys more often. Being an English teacher she had practiced the art of turn taking more often that she could not help it, though from her Kisii tribe turn taking was never there except between a senior and junior person. Besides being a dean of students it majorly involved listening to students’ problem and trying to solve them satisfactorily.

“No wonder they say Google is a woman because she never lets you finish a sentence before suggesting other ideas.” Madam Glady added and they all laughed. Joyce continued with her narration till she finished what she could remember about it.

“But you have not told us what was the problem with your friend Stacia?” Madam asked.

“Well I didn’t get to know it because she was not willing to open up to me to tell me the reason why she was crying.” Joyce answered.

“I tend to think Kalos did something very bad to her and she was still reacting to it.” Antonice added.

“Let me take the baby to bed first am sure he will tire you in your hands” Joyce said to Antonice as she stretched her hands to get the sleeping baby from her. She disappeared into the bedroom and emerged minutes later with the baby crying.

“Why is she crying?” Antonice asked in bewilderment.

“I also don’t know” Joyce answered.

“Well that is ridiculous of you to say that” Antonice said looking surprised. “Joyce, how could you not get why your own child was crying?”

“You ask as if she has been a mother before” Madam Gladys said. “Sometimes the things the child wants are not known to her mother especially for a first born child”

“It is funny that he has stopped crying as soon as I stepped back here” Joyce said,

“Maybe he enjoys our company, babies can be very funny at times” Madam trying to play with the child as Joyce held her. “One woman used to show her young child her privacy to make her stop crying and that became a bad tendency till when they were in a hospital where she was admitted years later and the nurse told her bluntly, show your child what you always show when she is crying”

“Oh my God that was so wicked and immoral of her” Antonice felt shocked by the story.

“Anyway I wan’t to leave now to go see the widow of Hudson” Madam Gladys announced as she stood up.

“What do you mean Madam?” Joyce almost got crazy for she thought she heard her wrongly. “The widow of who?”

“I thought you heard Hudson is no more”, Madam Gladys replied. “He was back at home recovering but went ahead to take his life”

* * * * *

Petro was just about to leave the compound when he heard his father calling him from under the tree where he sat listing to his old Sonitec radio. The radio was very old but still in good condition and he relied on it for company listening to Murembe FM and at times West FM which were fighting for regional listener-ship. Petro came back to the tree where he had passed his father as he left his hut to the gate of the compound. Apparently his father was back from selling milk at the shopping center.

“These days you hardly talk to us about your recent developments as if you live in an island”, his father Mzee Makosi started to talk.

“Father the last time I tried to talk to you, you wanted me to trim the fence first before we could talk”, Petro said.

“Go inside and bring a seat we talk properly”, Makosi said ignoring Petro’s statement.

“Father I am getting late for work, can this wait till in the evening so we can talk peacefully?” Petro was not in a mood for early morning barazas. Even if he would be paid to sit down with his father he would just let the money be paid to someone else because he had lost in touch with his father at all in speaking about anything. Being a last-born among boys he was often regarded as a toddler every time no matter how much he tried to raise his standard of doing things. Even the villagers treated him like a junior Makosi and at times would bring allegations to his father of what he had been doing in the village. The only villagers who respected him were those that were parents in the school that he used to teach.

“Yesterday did you sleep in your hut?” his father went on to ask him.

Petro felt cornered but decided to play smart to the question, “But father you know it rained cats and dogs yesterday and I got rained on coming here.”

“So that means you slept hungry, and now you want to leave just like that?” his father went on.

“I would appreciate if you went direct to your point father rather than dwell on such issues because I am getting late” Petro went on.

“How is the going between you and the Joyce the pastor’s daughter?” his father asked another irritating question to him.

“There is nothing to it anymore, she is now probably a mother wherever she is”, Petro went on.

“Mother to your child?” his father couldn’t help asking the question which Petro saw coming

“Am not the father to her child, that is why our relationship hit the wall.” He explained.

“I am not aware of that, though I heard you had a little fuss at the shopping center last holiday with her”

“Father I have moved on”

Just then his phone started to ring and when he checked it was Debra. He used that as an excuse to move away from him, “Father you am already being called for being late, see you later”

As he picked the call Debra was straight to the point, “Darling you did good to leave earlier than me”

“Why?” Kalos found himself asking.

“Because Pastor Mwanga and another deacon are here for God knows what reasons” she responded and dropped the call immediately.

Petro was just outside the gate and could have simply gone back to his hut but proceeded to the road as he had been saying. His future was still not bright but littered with uncertainties.