MAJOTI; MY SECONDARY SCHOOL HEADMASTER. Part 2

This article is a continuation of my previous post, Majoti; My secondary school headmaster.

He did not repeat his words. I heard his shoe make the sounds off the floor as he walked away. At that very moment, I knew I was in trouble. I waited for him to leave my room, immediately which I left my blankets. By the time I got out of my dormitory, Nkula House 35 and through Shire House’s dormitory 21, he was already at the steps to his office, about 40 metres or so away. To date, I fail to comprehend what rocket science was used to move at such an alarming speed.

At this time, I knew I had to be in his office as quickly as possible, so I ran and I breathed with oxygen that seemed to fast be escaping from my nose. I arrived at the door just as he was playing with his huge bunch of keys to find the right key to his office. The door opened. He entered his office and as I tried to follow suit, leaving my famous wave zone sandals on the doormat, he turned back and kicked them off his doormat. Behind him, he closed the door.

“Explain what you were doing in my secretary’s office”, he asked me whilst looking at me with an eye I tried a million times to avoid looking at this time around. 

“I am sorry Brother”, I responded. 

“That does not answer my question” he exclaimed seemingly unconvinced by the answer I gave him. 

At that moment, I knew sorry was the last thing he wanted to hear. So here went the story. 

“As you recall brother, we in the English club decided to come up with a newsletter for the school. You will recall that we worked to have this newsletter brought together and finished under the guidance of our patron Mr Nyirenda. (I did not explain to him that he had put a stop order to any activity relating to the newsletter because we had made a mockery of him on the humour page). So in short, we felt let down that our work should not come to fruition. To cut the long story short brother, we were trying to print the newsletter out so that we could distribute the copies among those of us who contributed to its writing as a remembrance of the work that we put in, and again I am sorry for going behind your back”.

Silence.

 His eyes had gone “very red”. 

“I saw two of you, who was the other one?” He queried. 

“No one brother, just me”

“I saw two of you, who was the other one?” a replica of the first question was thrown at me again. 

“No one brother, I was alone. I know why you might be confused, as I ran down the corridors, there was somebody running down. I did not recognise him as I was too afraid to open my mind to anything else apart from the thought of hiding under my bed!” 

What was I supposed to say? My friend was on a last warning. Any slight slip, he was supposed to be sent home. I had discussed this with the principal by virtue of being the head boy. Was I supposed to give him up? No ways. So I maintained my stand. 

“Leave my office”. 

I left his office trembling unsure of what would unfold. The next morning, I woke up very early as always. I dressed up. I held my Head Boy badge, hesitant to put it on. I finally put it on. I was scared of the shame that would befall me if I was scrapped of my powers. That morning I wrote a long list of people who were late for classes! Their punishment would follow after classes. The following evening I wrote a long list of noise makers! Their punishment would follow the next day. And that was how the story died down. 

Today  I look back and smile at the adventure and many more. Could I have behaved differently?