Success or failure depends on you



      When I was born, I never knew that one day I would join the university. Of course I had all the reason since no one in my whole village had securely attained the cut-out marks required to join the university.

     I have got four brothers and two sisters. I am also the last born and this was something if someone was asked whether to decide to be, I would be the first person to refuse. You all know all the laziness and crazy-talk associated with last borne. They wait for their parents to work hard and inherit their property!

    I spent my early childhood in dilemma since I wanted to prove that being a last borne is not a guarantee of being a failure. This is saying from my own point of view and if you find it irrelevant to you, please forgives me. Jesus said, forgive 70 * 70000. So I had to decide very early in childhood that one day I would be a great person who owns his own things. I would make toy cars and drag them producing the sound that a car would produce. Childhood was fun. Actually, theoretically success is easy but it becomes a thorn to step on when practicality dawns in.

      The journey started on this fateful morning when my mother told me, “leo nakupeleka shuleni. “Which actually means today” am taking you to school.” The craziness of being a last born was here all over me. I suddenly cried. I cried for real. Was I like serious? I was torn between the separations of my solitude for most for the times I used to like to spend my time alone. I never liked the company of my fellow friends.

      But my mum would mean what he said. How many times had she cane me and force me to sleep hungry after I had wronged her? Again, how many times has she told me not to tamper with my siblings’ school property? I once burnt my sister’s geometrical trisquare due to ignorance. I remember me throwing it into a hot jiko my mother ha it for them to chase away the cold while studying.  She looked worried but I had all the guts to laugh. I was young but this cheekiness had far gone higher than that of a young bantam cock.

    So I had to bathe and I was given a hand kerchief. I was warned that our class teacher would beat me up was I to give room mucus to flow all over done my nose. Is school hell? But before this, I remembered my brother telling my sister,” chelewa tena kesho ndo uone cha mtema kuni.” She was late and had received some punishment. Gosh! I had to wear crocodile’s skin. Caning I school would like taking breakfast.

     We reached school during the long break and that’s when I realized how school is busy. Everyone was playing and I never saw anyone been cane. “So school is fun, “I consoled myself. My teacher to be was a lady. They exchanged pleasantries with my mother and I realized she was friendly. I was taken into the register and my mom left. I wanted to cry but became shy. The other pupils would laugh of me and this was sure to send me truant for the rest of my life. I went back home that evening and I had only mastered letter m.  Funny is how I wrote it to my brother who pinched me. I had written a whole three comfortably.

      The next day and the rest of my year went smooth and I went to class on. Teacher Jane would teach us all the subjects. But math was difficult like a sinner missing to go to hell. Perhaps that the reason why I was a repeater comes the next year and I was joined by fresher from nursery. They looked bigger than I was but I was sure that I would not repeat again. I was opened up and I was sure that I would go to class two. The class teacher was now a male. The sequence was usually that a class 1, 2, and 3 would be taught by a single teacher. He was nice especially when we would sing during the physical education lesson.

      I sailed through to class two on the same school before my brothers convinced my parents to do us some transfer to another school. Their motive was well hidden to me but I could not resist. There I proved to be a strong competitor for during the third term I was number three. No one had ever come close to that number from all the others sibling. Was this the reason why my mother transferred me to a private school? This time she bought the new uniforms out of my consent and when January was here, I was given some brown uniform.

    Private or academy was what that used to make my head ache. Wilson, my best friend would remain indoors during the evenings when we were happily praying outside, he was doing homework. In my life I had never done anything like that. So I was a marionette and they would take me where they wanted me to go. Alas! I was number last the first exam. It was unbelievable and they said that I had lied unto the about my previous positions.

  But when the year ended I was position ten. Somehow they started believing that it was transfer shock that had made me receive that ill number. Lest they knew that the following year they would regret my presence there. That was class four and so the rest of my primary was full of academics achievement and I was even happy to beat the boy who had lead all through from the lower class.    

   High school meant that we had to different stations.  My former school teacher would show the rest of my former colleagues my report form.” Boniface was position one. He was with you just the other day and so young pupils lean to work hard.”

   It was true that I was invincible. I worked hard academically and that could be the reason why I had so many post and the best of all it was a school captain. I was happy and worked hard to join the university which am proud of being in the bets university in Kenya. They call it The University of Nairobi and it was given lots of accolades when we reported.

“It is the only university that has not been named after any one. When we select the lecturers we only pic the best and deploy the rest to our competitors, “   words whish blossomed my already heighten hopes. But this paye (pay as you eat)   was to be a big monster.

  I thank God as am writing this script, am already through with my second year of study. It has for the past been a nice journey and I pray that it will also end well. Thanks for reading my semi biography.

   This all last borne thing to me has been a blessing.


6 thoughts on “Success or failure depends on you

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s