High School Romp and Naivety..

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Of late I have been thinking so much about my high school days. I think the obsession was triggered by the release of the 2014 KCSE results by Prof Jacob Kaimenyi.

When I was doing my KCSE, I was ailing. I think then there was an outbreak of some sort because suddenly so many of my fellow students were either on frequent trips to our smelly loos or to the then overcrowded nurse’s office. The situation was so bad that I had to take breaks between papers to go and take a nap in the dorm.

Maybe it was the anxiety of finally completing high school or the exam fever. All in all I was in bad shape. I remember then being told by so many people that even if I flopped, I had a perfect excuse.

Then that day came. That day that Ongeri was to finally release our results. You know that day that you wished never came. It was finally with us. And everyone was expectant. My phone that day had to be charged 33 times to keep up with the calls that were coming through.

The situation could have been mistaken for a Safaricom customer care center. Everyone wanted to know what I had scored. Even those relatives that I had stayed 7 years without a word from suddenly wanted to know what their son had sired after four years of hard labour.

I remember then being reminiscent of the good old days of high school romp, color, naivety and carelessness…

We were young. We were adventurous. Protesterone was running so fast in our bodies that the Kardashians couldn’t keep up.

Then were the days that tucked shirts were a display of… I don’t know what to call it… yes.. being ‘holyjoe’.. Your shirt had to be hanging. Your trouser had to be a ‘don’t touch’ with chrystal white socks and a sharp shooter. Never mind that we then looked more like thugs than naive secondary school students.

I remember those were the days that KC was the most common brand of alcohol we could afford. I wasn’t a drinker then but I had several guzzlers for friends. There was this time that one of my friends drunk himself to a stupor and I was responsible for taking care of him till we got a mat to go home from Embu. He seemed to be in so much agreement with gravity that it was always pulling him down. Imagine me, holding his drunk ass on stage, with so many beautiful girls staring at us. He was bigger in size so I was struggling to keep us both on our feet. It was embarassing. I had to later give him so much milk and sugar that his ungrateful ass puked all over our bags.

Then there were the girls… (there is always a girl right?) The ones that were so neat, and immaculate, and flawless, and not forgetting breathtakingly beautiful. They were innocent (or so we thought) and they wanted adventure too. Days with no end we exchanged letters waiting for a chance to meet and express our burning affection. These days would come in the name of funkies, midterms, symposiums, drama and music fests, closing days etc.

School ties would be exchanged autographs signed and the ultimate score would be to get her number (that was either her mum’s or a simcard that was 99.78 % of the holidays off). The real smooth talkers would get a kiss or do unprintable things in the school labs or school buses…

All these and many more thoughts are what came flooding back as I waited for my results to come through.

I remembered saying that if I failed, I would blame the girls, and the endless funkies that I didn’t dare miss and sleeping during prep time ( that sleep is equitable to none) and not taking my exams too seriously. I had a truck full of excuses.

High school was all fun till the exams came knocking. Imagine a Maths test that was to examine content from 348 pages of print. Three Hundred and Forty Eight pages!! How was I supposed to remember all that content? Keeping in mind that our maths teacher was a female teacher who wore extra tight skirts that fully complimented her behind.

Just imagine a 17 year old sex strved high school student trying to understand how to derive the Pythogras theorem with this ‘hot’ ass infront of him. What is he most likely to grab? The ass or the formula? It was an uphill task. It really was. It became so bad that she started writing on the board on her side.No wonder I got what I got in Mathematics.

It’s been a while since I completed high school and the ‘girlfriend’ I had then has a kid now. Several of them have infact. Some got married others were consumed by the tidal hurricane of life.

To you that got your results this week, you won’t need to cram all that content anymore. Google has made things easier for those that are thick headed among you. Just remember you got what you deserved!

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