CONFESSION TIME

CONFESSION TIME.

I happened to watch some non-appetizing movie last night and I have no regrets because it has played a great part in this article’s content. The part that kind of cracked my ribs is when this guy who is a supper addict and fanatic of masturbation went to make a clean breast to the pastor. This is what he said: I am not married, had sex with my lady thrice but didn’t feel the heat or cum until I jerked off 37times. Well, he had the braveries that I also have to spill the beans about a touchy issue. It’s touchy because some people will be hurt, feel bad, others may judge me but all I ask is for forgiveness before my birthday especially from my one and only big brother. As I unlock my dirty skeleton in the cupboard, you are allowed to get a little bit nosy.

I schooled in a day school until class 6 when my dad honored his promise to transfer me to a boarding school where my bro studied; life was a bit boring without him I had no punch bag, someone to play cards with because my sister was very small. No words can emphasize better of my eagerness of joining boarding other than how I slept with shoes on the previous night. The admission was awesome, my parents left after putting some weight in my pockets and there and then hooked up with bro who took care of me introducing me to his classmates in class 8.

The night was blissful but morning was the worst, I mean why would a matron pull your blankets at 4am saying `amka, kila mtu amka Thank heavens I was not a karate veteran by then, otherwise her face would be the size of a cabbage after receiving one of my punches. My cube mates explained to me that that was the culture as we were expected to go for morning preps. To my amazement, there was a thing called `bathroom booking’ and I could hear girls knocking and asking who is after you?and after her? And after her? Before arriving at am after her then. I went passport on my 1st day and wished there was a way of flying home. Whey hadn’t my bro briefed me on all this, he had only praised the sweetness of meat on Wednesday and Sunday, boiled egg on Sunday, not disremembering the sugariness of pocket money.

Classes began and due to my wanting height, I was positioned in front. The kind of assignments given were valleys, hills, mountains, and finally loads of them. My laziness skills could not allow me to complete all these and was thus caught in the wrong side of things every time, meaning strokes of cane would be applied on my hands daily. This was too much to bear and thinking outside the box for a strategy to leave all this behind was not an option.

I had a fainting problem at some point, although I got healed. However, my 3rd thoughts kept convincing me that it could be the escape plan to all the struggles in school. After a thorough research, pretending to faint was the recommended best course of action to apply. This would come with a package of benefits including missing classes, getting hot water, special treatment and diet, getting my own bed instead of a decker, among others.

When things got tough, I fainted and the nurse would call the school van to take me to a larger hospital, mine was a special case. When I open my memories folder, it is clear how on my first day I gained consciousness after realizing that we have just crossed the hospital’s gate. On other occasions, I became conscious after being placed on the hospital’s bed or after an injection. It was my responsibility to ensure that by all means everything was real; no one noticed that it was only pretense and I was only sleeping.

My mission was half accomplished the minute the doctor advocated a special diet for me and said that hot water was a must for me. The assignments issue was yet to be solved and for this reason, my target was to faint at least twice a week so that the teacher would question me not. Time to time, I would bully my classmates by eating all their pens’ lids and punching them to do my assignments; Duncan and Angelica were my number one fans.

Siku za mwizi(read pretender) ni arobaini. There is this Saturday that my skills got me unconscious for 2hours and since the van was not around, teachers and pupils just gave me first aid in the dormitory hoping that I would get better. From my research, one of the findings was that dead people tend to release foam and for this reason, I would consume omo and release it to make my case serious. This Saturday, I did that too and my teachers were more that worried. Here is the conversation that followed as I could hear.
Miss T: aki what shall we tell her mum.
Miss G: (crying). I hope hakataget worse mikononi yetu. Sasa van iko wapi? Her crying made me wanna burst in laughter but luckily I HELD IT.
Miss H: Nina idea. Let’s try tickling her maybe she will respond.

OMG!!! That was the end of me, I could not help but release the laughter. That marked the end of Mumbi as a special pupil. I was the walk of shame on that Saturday while in the second term of class 7. I was a grade one pretender then. I know the many times my parents got disturbed, the many times my big bro missed supper because her sister was sick, I cannot apologize enough. I had no ID, and the consequences of my acts had not hit me as long as I got my way.

Happy furahi day. Enjoy responsibly!!!!

Handshakes.

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