I did not particularly like primary school. It was too long and after a while it was clear there was no escaping. Ten years old in a boarding school in Kirinyaga County, I braced myself for the four-year journey. It could not be that bad. Admittedly, it was all rosy either, the mornings were too cold, afternoons too hot and night preps were a nightmare. Mr. Ngari, the headmaster lurked in the darkness ready to punish noisemakers, Swahili speakers and the ‘sleepers’ as he liked to call them. I did not fit in any of the categories. All I wanted to do is my homework as fast as possible so that I could get back to my pacesetter, that had a five day limit before accruing charges, for delayed return to the library. See that was not necessarily wrong but it meant that less attention was paid to other subjects. Sometimes my homework was done haphazardly so that I could move on to more entertaining things.
This would then mean that the next day I would get a thorough beating because of what teachers called silly mistakes in my homework especially, mathematics. Soon afterwards we were banned from reading anything that is not a textbook during the week. Now I had to pay attention to my homework. Our English teacher however was determined to make our classes more interesting. Mr. Wahome always started class by teaching us a new song. That is when I learned the song ‘London’s Burning’. We would shriek our lungs out in our little voices that gradually grew bolder as we grew older. By the time we were in class eight, we knew the songs by heart and took turns to lead the class in to a song.
Another reason why Mr. Wahome was such a joy is because in every class we learned a new word. It was in class four that I first learned of the word ‘ravenous’ and I have used it ever since. He also insisted that when you do not have work to do, you either read the dictionary or the bible. He laid more emphasis on the former. Now that my pacesetters were gone, the dictionary was my new favourite book. Little did I know the difference it would make in my effort to master the language. During the weekend I would indulge in creative reading noting down all the ‘big ‘ words and during the week I would go over them and by the time I got my hands on the latest book, reading became easier and more enjoyable. My English grades got better and so did my confidence. Surprisingly, the same mechanism worked for my Kiswahili classes.
I have to say the highlight of my four years in primary school was when Mr. Wahome walked in class with the then Form One English text book in the first term of class eight. See we were done with the primary school syllabus in the previous class. We were all excited that we were would be ahead of our colleagues when we transitioned to secondary school. To cut the long story short, by the time I was in my second year of high school, I was perusing the Form Three ‘Intergrated English’ textbook. Being a step ahead gave us an unusual confidence in the subject. To date books are my sweet escape.
Thanks to Mr. Wahome’s advice and motivation, my classmates and I can express ourselves better. One of my former classmates writes for a publication that delves more into Human Rights, the other is a junior senator in Kenya and given his recent speech, expression will not be a problem as he pursues a political career. Well, I write for a living and there is nothing more rewarding than doing what you love. With every sunrise you aim to be better and eventually achieve excellence. On behalf of all the students in your English classes at Kirinyaga Township Primary School, thank you Mr. Wahome, your legacy precedes you and we are living proof.