By Pascal Mwandambo
Last month was the month of love for those who believe in the Valentine spirit.
So when our principal Obote approached me on the eve of Valentine Day, I listened keenly to what he had in mind.
“ I was thinking this time round we should celebrate Valentine in a different manner; by visiting the Mavumbi Children’s Home and giving them the little that we can,”Obote said, rubbing his palms together.
I didn’t see any reason why I should oppose such a kind gesture to destitute children who deserve love and care just like any other.
“That’s a noble idea, but couldn’t we have planned it well in advance?” I asked, though deep inside I knew Obote is one person who cannot change his mind easily.
“I don’t see anything that requires elaborate planning. Let’s purchase some drinks, foodstuff and second hand clothes and give them to the poor children,” Obote enthused.
It was quickly settled. I joined hands with Marashi and bought an assortment of drinks, bread, cakes and some mitumba clothes, though I wasn’t quite sure if some of them would fit any of the children.
As we went about the shopping, I remotely suggested that in the spirit of Valentine, Marashi should bury her differences with Napoleon.
The look she gave me made me drop the suggestion the moment it came out of my mouth.
Anyway, our visit to the home was heartwarming; the elated children sang songs and danced as they gobbled the drinks and snacks.
Before we concluded our mission, Marashi suggested that we should also get some water and soda for ourselves. I declined the suggestion but she insisted on taking home a whole crate of soda and several bottles of water.
With a knowing wink, she warned me not to let Obote know about it. Napoleon would skin her alive if he knew what had happened.
After the Valentine treat, I hurried to Makuti Pub where Kibobo, the head teacher at the neighbouring Mavumbi primary school, had said he wanted to meet me.
I found Kibobo imbibing his keg and staring at everything and nothing in particular.
You see, Makuti began selling ‘vuta pumzi’, the local term for cheap keg sold in mugs, the other day.
This was after the number of beer drinkers declined due to the harsh economic times.
Vuta pumzi comes in handy in quenching our craving for beer though I have misgivings about Yondo Sister, the waiter, who keeps on shortchanging me.
Whenever I complain that the drink had not reached the marked level on the cup, she insists ‘ngojea povu ishuke kwanza’.
Little does she know that I am a Chemistry teacher and I know what the term “meniscus” means.
Anyway, Kibobo’s main reason for calling me was to seek our assistance as an institution over Science practicals for their junior secondary school children.
“You are our only neighbour and I think you can help us on that issue,” he said wiping keg foam from the corner of his mouth.
I thought deeply about the issue. You see, despite being the Chemistry teacher and head of Science, I cannot commit myself on such a weighty matter without involving the school administration.
I know many public institutions are grappling with CBC challenges and Mavumbi primary was no exception.
I promised Kibobo that I would raise the matter in our next staff meeting for further deliberation.
