Wednesday, 29 October 2014

MEMORY LANE

Over the weekend, I insisted with the father and made sure I was part of the entourage to St Savio Junior School, Kisubi to visit Elijah Kevin. Kevin is my baby brother and a very jolly and bright boy. He actually looks exactly like me though one Marina Sasha insists he's more handsome and charming than I am. In the next few years, he will be about my height or even taller. Yes, we are a family of tall boys. Not to seem like I am taking you through my family tree length, I will switch position to what I am meant to share today.

It is either that times have changed or maybe Namilyango Junior Boys School wanted us to harden in our infancy. It was a VD-esque environment and this is a day all boarding school students "boarders" look to more than the coming of Jesus Christ, always expectant of mummy to bring chicken for lunch and specifically save you the "kithambi" thighs: those delicious and sizeable babies. One glimpse at the proceedings there took me into a long, heart warming and joyful, though at times would end up sad trip down memory lane.

In a bid to avoid all negatives hitting you on all fronts, lunch on that day in the school DH was a must. I mean, the chicken was cooked like that of Imperial Resort going to be served to Country Delegates because they knew PTA  board members would be in the area to sample how their children feed. It was for eating while keeping in mind that mummy was at the gate with that voluptous chicken thigh, kept so warm somewhere amongst what she carried. Pocket Money was not an issue in primary school. But, visitation day food was the real deal. After school lunch, it was for finding that specific position in the class windows and look keenly at the road in the hopes of seeing a visitor for you.

If you were lucky enough and someone visited you, tears of joys were very imminent, more so if it was the mother. She would hug you  and even last longer than Geisha in the embrace. Academics were always the last points of discussion on VD. There were far more important issues to discuss like the loss in weight while at school, the new bike the father bought you, the growth of the baby sister, the list was always long and couldn't accomodate academics. The food was munched with utmost joy, random topical conversations. Soft drinks were the real deal in my junior school, but we always found a way to sneak "eats" under the matrons' noses. They too, were accomplices.

It was just in order that "your visitor" left you food for supper because after eating that home made food, the stomach would be so advanced for school food and the enzymes needed to keep up appearance. The DH was a no go zone for supper. If the day hadn't been the happiest of many and you had no visitor, the dormitories would be a bad place to hang unless a brother got your back foodwise.

The VD night was a night of maximum joy and merry making but this was no bed of roses. Our stomachs were bound to react to the availability of unusual nutrients. The lavatories were in business the morning after.

VDs are one of those things I miss about Primary School.