My Summer Holidays

Hi, my name is Bobby. I am 17 and life is one big party. The mirror tells me that I am thin with a few (big) pimples on my face but inside I am the macho man raring to go (to the disco). I wear loose (twice my size) shirts over baggy jeans and I never forget to gel my hair or splash on some of my dad’s after shave before I step out of the house. I am even thinking about getting an earring (if my mom – the dragon allows me) to get the right look. Though cracking, I think my voice is quite sexy as I put on just the right accent and use the coolest slang. Once out of the house I walk with a slight drag and bounce and with all this style oozing out of me I am sure the opposite sex swoon as I walk by.

I am cool when I am going out, but when I am home it is an entirely different story. At home my mother is constantly pestering me to study, clean up my room, keep the music down and to top it all she won’t even let me watch television peacefully. I never seem to do anything right in her eyes, and she keeps telling me to be more responsible. My father is at work most of the day and comes homes quite late so he is usually too tired to get on my back, but my mother is home the whole day and being the only child I have her full attention.

School got over and we were to have two months off before the next term began and my mother announced that the two of us would be going to my grandmother’s, as she was unwell. My friends were all planning to go on cool trips and parties while I was to go on a holiday with my mother to visit my grandmother! I love my grandmother and I am crazy about my mother but nothing could be a bigger drag than spending summer holidays with them (away from my friends). Reluctantly I packed my bag taking more comics, and music than clothes. I didn’t bother to take any of my cool stuff because I didn’t think there would be any need for them in that dreary place.

My grandmother owns a farm (I used to love it when I was young) about six hours drive from the city. The farm is a lovely place if you like animals and farm work but it is not the place for a teenager who wants excitement and fun. There are no cool places to hang out in, no movie theaters and certainly no young people around – there are only a few farms scattered here and there with more elderly people living in them.

We took a bus and during the whole journey I either listened to my walk man or slept. At our stop we got off and one of the farm’s handy men was there to take us to the farm. He put our luggage on to a broken down wagon (I wouldn’t be caught dead in it in front of my friends) and after we got on, he took off in the direction of the farm.

I was pleased to see the farm and my grandmother again after all I used to have grand holidays t here during my childhood. My priorities have changed now and I need other forms of enjoyment, which farm animals and grandma’s love couldn’t fulfill. We freshened up and had a hearty meal while talking nineteen to the dozen. We were really tired and got to bed early. The next morning I jumped up when the cock gave the wake up call. I ran out and said hello to all my old friends (animal and human) and tried to make friends with the new. Over breakfast my grandmother said that she had asked my mother for help especially because a group of young girls were going to camp in the farm.

I choked over my milk and tried to digest what she had just said – girls coming to camp here! I didn’t know whether to be happy or angry. I could have kicked myself for not having brought my gel or my good clothes and I panicked when I thought of my pimples, which were in full form now. I tried to listen in on their conversation again and sure enough she was saying that a certain school (girl’s school) was sending a group of students to this farm for their animal husbandry study. Then she looked at me and said “why they would be about your age so now you have nothing to complain of as you will have lots of friends and lots to do.” Of course I would not have anything to complain of, I never do when it comes to girls! They were to arrive two days later and I was being given the duty of getting their “living quarters” and all the stables cleaned up, while my mother was to supervise everything and get the food ready. The farm hands and I cleaned up the farm and set about pitching tents for the girls at the back of the farm. I have never worked so hard in my life and never enjoyed as much – I noticed the occasional smirk my mother would give saying I know why you are working so hard, but I didn’t mind.

Then they arrived – a bus full of girls and their teacher. All in all there were 15 girls excluding the teacher. I stood trying to look matured and important but ended up gawking as one by one the screaming girls got off. Before I could say or do anything my mother whisked them in while I was told help with the luggage. After setting the luggage I returned to the house only to find the dining room full of females talking at the top of their voices, there was no room for me so I had to sit in the kitchen and eat on my own. Mother kept coming in to take refills and after dismissing my sulking face said that I should ‘act my age’! She has always called me a hooligan when I made any noise but now she was not making any fuss over the hullabaloo the girls were making – talk about partiality!

After the meal Ma asked me to show our guests to their tents. I quite importantly gave them a guided tour. Being the only boy around I hoped to get a lot attention but everybody seemed to treat me like a farm hand and kept pushing me off. The next few days all I did was run around and carry out everybody’s orders, without any thanks, and to top it all some of the girls were rather rude and snobbish. Being ignored continuously was really beginning to cheese me off.

One day just as I set off to do another errand a storm seemed to blow over out of nowhere. With the storm the troop moved in the house and I had to give up my room to those cheeky girls. My mother asked me to sleep downstairs in the sitting room and that was the last straw. First, my own mother ignores me then the girls ignore me, it was too much for me to bear and I decided to show them just how important I was.

Grumbling I stepped out of the house, and stood thinking on the porch. It was raining really hard and I could hear the frightened cries of the animals so I decided to go and check on the animals. I tried to comfort the animals as much as I could then I looked out to see whether the rain had lessened and instead saw the tents flapping like crazy in the howling wind. I must have been watching the tents for sometime when I suddenly spotted a different kind of movement. I strained my eyes and tried to make out what exactly was moving. Suddenly it struck me that one of the farm animals could be there, and without a second thought I ran as fast as I could to the spot. I was soaking wet but I didn’t stop in my search. I looked into the tents but there was nothing there, I tried to make cooing sounds hoping the animal would come out of hiding, when I heard a moan. I froze for a moment; it had to be one of the girls, where could she be! I began shouting loudly, and renewed my search with anticipation. It was so dark I could barely make out anything, and nearly fell into a ditch. I kept shouting awaiting an answer when suddenly, I heard something from down below, a cry for help.

I had found my quest but I didn’t know what to do next. The farm hands had gone home and there was just one gatekeeper, and if I ran back to the house for help it could be too late. With split second’s decision I decided to climb down the ditch and push the girl up. Climbing down a ditch in pitch darkness with a heavy downpour is no easy job. By the time I got down I must have bruised my hands quite badly, luckily my legs were well protected. I fumbled around and found her lying on one side. She tried to speak but was too weak to be heard in the wind. She seemed to have hurt her leg and couldn’t move. I was in a fix; I couldn’t possibly push the girl up, without any help. I thought of going back to the house and getting help but try as hard as I could I just couldn’t clamber up the ditch; I kept slipping and falling back in. After three trials and three landings on my back I decided to stay with her till help arrived.

Meanwhile at home nobody missed the girl or me as they had all gone off to sleep. So I spent the entire night trying to shield both of us from the rain and huddling together to keep from shivering. After what seemed like an eternity the rain stopped and faint rays of the morning light began to surface. My mother had, thankfully, come down early in the morning to start her day’s work when she found that I was not sleeping in the sitting room. I being a late riser, she doubted that I had gone out for a walk at five a.m. So she called the gatekeeper and they both set out on a search for me. She was quite hysterical by the time she reached the tents (probably thought that I had run away or something), I could hear her shout from a mile away and for a few moments I just couldn’t believe my ears. When she got closer to the ditch I began shouting with all my might. Soon I heard scraping sounds above and I looked up to see my mother peering down. I sure was glad to see her. In no time more help appeared and we were both pulled out and taken to the house.

My mother became her old protective self again and took charge of the situation with gusto. She kept checking on us every few minutes; I quite liked my mother fussing over me again, though sometimes it does get too much, I hated it when she ignored me. The doctor arrived in a few minutes and checked us up. I had bruises all over while the girl had a mild concussion and had sprained an ankle, so we were asked to take as much rest as possible. We were both put in the same room (my room became the sick room) on twin beds, so the minute she regained strength I began chatting. I remembered her then; she was the quiet one among the whole group. She said that she had left her moneybag in the tent and had gone to get it without telling anyone and on her way back fell into the ditch.

The hero – that’s what I was now, and it certainly felt grand to get the Royal treatment. Even though my body hurt I thoroughly enjoyed all the attention and pampering I was getting. I couldn’t wait to go back and tell my friends how 15 girls pampered me; I even took pictures with each one to make sure my friends believed me. Best of all I had made friends with a very special person, she is not ‘hep’ or ‘cool’ but she has won my heart. In fact, I have even decided to change some of my ways in her honour because I don’t think she would appreciate them, and turn over a new leaf (my mother will be very pleased too).

Today I feel like a new ‘man’ ready to take on the challenges of this world – there I go talking big again, some habits certainly are hard to lose!  

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  Still Waters

A divorce can drain you. I had just gone through one and it left me depressed and incapacitated. I felt I was incapable of doing anything right and slowly began losing interest in everything - dressing, eating, entertainment, and eventually became a zombie. Socialising was out and I began hiding not just from people but from myself too.

My mother suggested that I get away and recuperate. Well the idea certainly seemed good especially because I wanted to get away, get away from all the people I knew and from all the places that reminded me of my ex-husband. I chose to go to a remote place to “get over” (as my mother put it) my trauma – though I knew I would never be able to forget or forgive.

My travel agent suggested quite a few places but they didn’t sound like a good hideaway till she said, “Ever heard of Still waters?” Still waters! Now what kind of a name was that! The name quite suited my feelings and I inquired about its whereabouts. “Well”, she said, “ it is a quiet, little village on top of some hills, and it has got its name from a small lake situated in the valley”. “It would be ideal for you since you are looking for a secluded place”, she continued, “and I could get a cottage for you”. Perfect, I thought, it would be just the place to end my useless life in without much interference.

This may sound morbid but I was all set to “go” not just to Still Waters but to the world yonder. I wrote a will whereby I left all my personal items and the little I had in the bank to my family and friends (my pens and tennis racquet would go to my younger brother, as he had his eyes on them for quite sometime). I decided to post the will along with a goodbye letter to my family once I reached Still waters; and by the time the letter would reach them I would be long gone. I packed a small bag of just the bare essentials, assured everybody that I would be just fine on my own and finally set on the journey to Still Waters.

I was traveling by train, a rather small train with very few passengers – of which I was glad. I had a cabin all to myself. I made myself comfortable and began to relax.  Though I had become exceedingly critical and pessimistic of late, I couldn’t stop feeling exhilarated once the city disappeared from sight.

Three hours before we were due to arrive, a stranger got in, and that too in my cabin. I could hardly describe him as tall, dark and handsome, as he was more tall, dark and scary with long unkempt hair and a scrubby beard, which definitely needed shaving. I scowled at him – how dare he disturb my peace, and to my annoyance instead of apologising he scowled back. Obviously he was not pleased to see me either. I was just about to pass a sarcastic remark when he said that one of the two seats in the cabin had been allotted to him. Well, that was it, I couldn’t ask him to leave now. I began to feel like the cornered rabbit again and shrank in one corner afraid my feelings would show. The next three hours I spent brooding and cursing my luck, when suddenly I smelt and saw green – green hills everywhere and our little train was chugging up one. The sight was so beautiful that for a moment I forgot my pain and was overawed by God’s creation. With the approach of a quaint station I felt the clown in me awaken and I said, quite aloud, in the Jim Carrey fashion “God here I come!” Hearing that remark my co-passenger turned to stare at me as if I was loony and we both began scowling at each other again.

            Just as the train stopped I alighted quickly and looked around for somebody who fitted the description of Maria – the caretaker of the cottage I would be living in. Suddenly I spotted a round woman and she spotted me at that instance and immediately huffed and puffed her way towards me, and with one bear hug said, “you must be Nina”. Before I could reply I was jostled out of the station and on to a waiting carriage. The carriage (and Maria) rambled on while I drank in the breathtaking view of green hills forming a circle with the lake in its hollow. We came to a stop in front of a dainty little white cottage set on the slope of one of the hills over looking the lake. It was definitely the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I began wondering if I could postpone my journey to the “other” world for just a few days after all this retreat was paid for plus who knew what was waiting for me in the other world.

Maria opened the door and led me inside. It was a cosy cottage and my face must have shown appreciation as Maria beamed and said, “I cleaned it myself, and I have got everything ready for you. I have stocked enough food to last your visit – though you do need to put on more weight, you are awfully skinny”. I mumbled something about falling sick and having lost weight, then I thanked her and began hinting that I wanted to be alone. After what seemed like an eternity she left me alone in that heavenly cottage. I looked around, first at the kitchen with its copper pans and little stove, then at the two bedrooms with slanting roof and little windows with stained glass panes, and lastly at the adorable bathroom. For a moment I thought of my honeymoon, the amount we had spent but still didn’t have fun. This place seemed ideal for a honeymoon couple.

After a leisurely bath and a light meal I went to sleep. It was the first time in ages that I slept right through the night without having any nightmares. The sun streamed through the window and awoke me quite early the next morning. I had a quick breakfast and decided to explore my transport to the next world – Still Waters. I took a small curving path down to the lake and stared at it.

Yes the name Still Waters seemed to fit the description of the lake – there was hardly any movement. It was a picturesque place with pretty, colourful flowers growing all round the lake and I suddenly remembered my school days when I used to paint. I decided to get some painting material and capture this beauty on paper, after all there was no harm in delaying my passage by a few days. I ran up to the shops and bumped into “him” - my co-passenger. “Can’t you watch where you are going”, he demanded. I scowled in reply and grumbling walked into the little store he had just exited. I asked for some painting material and the over enthusiastic shopkeeper said “oh, we have an artist amongst us now do we”? I modestly denied the charge, collected my purchase and after expressing my gratitude started my journey downwards.

I chose a quiet spot in a glade between my cottage and the lake and started painting. Frequently I would look around and admire the view. One time I looked up and spotted "him" looking at me. He was sitting under the shade of a tree a little further from me. I was thoroughly disgusted, no matter where I went he seemed to be there, disturbing my peace. I stole glances at him from time to time and saw that he was writing. He suddenly looked familiar and I realized with a jolt that he was the famous author whose interview I had seen a glimpse of on TV. He seemed to be a very polished and good-looking chap on TV though currently he looked more like a hoodlum. Jerk, I thought and with a shake of my head continued painting. The next few days, though I chose different spots around the lake, we seemed to bump into each other and our hostility towards each other mounted.

The day finally arrived when I decided it was time for me to embark on my next journey. I first posted a long goodbye letter, the will and some of the pictures I had painted. I packed the little that I had brought and wrote a short note to Maria thanking her for her hospitality and requesting her to send my bag to my family. Then I sat down to analyse my feelings and realised that I had none left; I was all cold and dark inside with no pain nor a drop of tear to shed. Round about midnight when all was dark I set out.

I decided to walk around the lake and look for the best place to make the plunge.  The moon was out and the lake shimmered in the moonlight. Suddenly I stopped short, I could hear a faint struggle and then I heard a cry. I had never been more scared in my life. For a moment I stood completely still with my heart pounding inside me. Then I saw in a clearing ahead a man trying to choke and drown somebody. At the first instinct I yelled and ran with all my might. The attacker heard me and fled. I paddled into the lake to where the inert body was floating and dragged it out. The water was cold and suddenly it didn’t seem like a good way to end my life. I looked closely at the body and with a shock saw that it was the author and he was unconscious!  I tried whatever CPR I knew till he began coughing out water. He opened his eyes and looked at me and said weakly, “so we meet again”. I realised that I had saved him.

I took him home where we shared our harrowing experience over a cup of coffee. He started narrating his nightmare of having witnessed a murder and having to hide from the murderer till the case came to court. Then I recounted my troubled days and I had never felt so much relief sharing my grief with anyone than with a complete stranger. Suddenly life seemed to be so full of meaning and purpose. How could I have been so silly to end my life just because of what that ‘@#$’ husband of mine had done! We both looked at each other and began laughing – yes, I was laughing and it had never felt so good besides he didn’t look like a ruffian when he smiled. We spent the entire night talking and with the first rays of the sun we went to the village he to make a call to the police and I to call my family. I told them that I would like to extend my holiday and I also told them to tear any post they received from me.

As I remember this encountering I realise just how lucky I am to have met Justin (that’s his name!). He has been marvelous these past few days and I have never felt more alive and exhilarated before. I am absolutely bursting with confidence and happiness. We are going back today and I can already see the shock my family will get by seeing this change in me. After the trial, he has to attend, we have decided to take another holiday – “together”.

I wonder what the name of the place we choose to visit next should be, if it were to suit my current feelings - “churning waters” or maybe “whirlpool” would fit the bill!                  

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My days in Namagunga

I will never forget my school days in Namagunga. While I was studying at that school, fear and anxiety would have best described my feelings for the school, but now reminiscing the fear has been replaced by a feeling of awe. I joined St. Theresa's Primary School also know as Namagunga ( the name of the place the school was situated in) in the year 1981. 

My father had just taken up a job in Lugazi  situated somewhere between the capital city of Uganda - Kampala and the town of Jinja.  My mother, brother and I were to join him a few months after he had begun work. My father came to pick us up at the national airport - Entebbe. Uganda being a beautiful country we enjoyed the drive to Lugazi though it was quite shocking to see the giant pot holes (created by bombs) and buildings with scars of the war on them. 

(Kindly, be patient for the rest of my narration...)

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