Begrudged.

There’s that book pale high school we used to call farewell book. We used to trick our teachers into giving us new books when the term was just about to end. Then when learning stopped, you’d pluck the few used pages and use the remaining part for the farewell. A lot of effort was used into taking the book round ensuring all your friends wrote sweet nothings. There were various formats but what I remember having read from my sister’s farewell back in the days was; favourite dish: paraffinated mūkish. Turns out I also became a partaker of said meal when I joined Can Go Free. The cateress must have advised the school’s management that in order to reduce hysteria/libido in girls, they needed to add some paraffin in the food. I can just imagine the school’s cateresses queueing in petrol stations during this fuel shortage to acquire the much sort after ingredient. Thank God schools are closed. I don’t know whether that’s the reason we turn into fossil fuels (crude oil) when we die?
Now back to my farewell book and the various rounds I beat. I traversed like Haggar when Sarah asked father Abraham to send her away. From the pavements, to the roundabouts, to the assembly grounds, to the dorms looking for friends to tell me a lie, because let’s face it; most of it were lies. I was like the nobody can stop reggae team looking for signatures to endorse the BBI initiative. Then like the high court stopped reggae, someone stole my farewell book😭😭
Now if I get a chance with St Peter to stand at the Pearly gates make sure to use the panya route, because if I know you are the one who stole that book, I won’t allow you to pass. I’m that grudgeous. Grudgen’t I?

Stillthechronicler.

Published by Nyar Kaheti

Born and raised on the picturesque slopes of Mt Kenya, Nyar Kaheti is your girl next door vibe kind of girl. She enjoys reading, writing, hiking, and listening to country music among other things.

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