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.
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