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Never take Anyone for Granted
#NevertakeAnyoneforGranted
March is always a rainy month in the tropics. It is always a month dreaded by the students in Africa.
It had rained heavily again this morning, and I had reached school late and dripping and wet as an eel. I felt feverish. It was the mid-term of senior four at Lubiri Secondary School. The moment I stepped into class, I was clumsy as a bull in the China shop. I had an itching allergy, often made worse by cold water or chlorine. My whole body itched terribly; it was like the African fire-safari ants had invaded my being. The teacher of English, Miss Lubanga was horrified, as I scratched my body severely. Everyone in the classroom laughed hysterically, but not Lorna.
She had walked up and offered me her warm woollen jumper, which I took gladly. It embarrassed me, but I still felt cold as Mountain Rwenzori snows. Lorna did not mind the laughter. She smiled beautifully. After a short while, I warmed up, and the itching eased. I stared at Lorna seated on the first desk, writing her exercise quietly.
That very moment my mind drifted back four years when I had joined senior one. Lorna was the first girl I ran into after being admitted to a government secondary school. She was light-skinned, and of medium height, maybe five feet tall. She was skinny and small. I had got lost in this new maze of a big school. I found Lorna seated on a rickety old wooden bench near the parade ground, reading David Copperfield, a novel written by Charles Dickens. I stopped, stared at her shyly. I asked timidly, "Where's Form 1 A?."
She promptly pointed in its direction. As I turned to walk off to my new class, I felt a warm, moist hand on my bony shoulder; she had decided to walk beside me. After we introduced each other formally, I asked her, "Which primary school did you study at?"
Lorna answered quietly, “I studied at Buganda Road Primary School,”
Wow! I exclaimed. “That was a top level-tier government school in Kampala. I am from Nabagereka Primary school”, I continued excitedly.
My former primary school was small and hidden away in the slum areas of Mengo-Kisenyi, just a kilometre from Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. The school was located in the poorest neighbourhood, a place that flooded frequently. I gasped remembering the blood and toil.
But I was grateful to God that I was one of the best students and had got admission to a top-rated secondary school in the country.
Lorna and I became close friends after that first encounter. A loud bark from Miss Lubanga woke me up from my reverie. I felt disoriented and failed to answer her question.
“Stand up!” Miss Lubanga barked hoarsely at me. The ringing of the bell saved me from a lengthy period of standing and frog-jumping. It was the change of lessons. Lorna laughed at me as I smiled back.
Over the years, I fell in love with her but feared expressing my feelings. She was the apple of my eye and was terrified of telling her how I felt. I also feared rejection. I was late. She had fallen in love with a handsome, burly boy, a footballer and the top scorer in the junior football league.
Ntale was a bully and intimidated all students and the teachers. He was the son of the Headteacher.
I was the long-distance champion for two years now. Then came one unforgettable day. My friends and I had been training hard for the upcoming inter-district athletic championship when I saw Lorna, standing there, staring at me. Hurriedly, I galloped a bottle of cold Pepsi-cola, and walked to Lorna and lifted her off her feet. I kissed her hard. My friends cheered on.
She had fought hard to be put down, but I did not. After a few seconds, I stammered at her. “I loooveee you, Lorna!” And I put her down.
She slapped me furiously as I stood there like a zombie. Then, I felt blood in my mouth. But I gripped her small, slender hand again and held it. Now, the students had gathered in large numbers and cheered me on.
The commotion had attracted Ntale to the scene. He was furious, and he pushed me down. With lightning speed, I stood up and swung around and grabbed him by the neck, choked him a bit before lowering him to the ground. Ntale was breathless. Shamelessly, I whispered in his ear that I would sting him like a bumblebee. By now, I had a large body of supporters. Maybe Ntale had forgotten, I was the mess prefect at the school, and this was my turf! Most students hated his attitude.
Ntale feared the further confrontation, and he melted away quietly. Lorna slapped me hard again; I felt more warm blood in my mouth. She shrieked away with embarrassment while she hauled abuses at me. I felt remorseful but excited, I had defeated a feared bully at school.
The next few weeks, Lorna avoided me like I had a contagious plague. I felt terrible inside, and my heart ached. I could not concentrate on my studies.
I was a broken reed now. For the first time, I knew I was in love. I wrote her countless poems and apologies, but she would not reply. My class became my harsh prison.
Further attempts to win her heart proved like flogging a dead horse. Then, I remembered an old saying, “the course of true love never runs smooth.”
A miracle happened to me one sunny afternoon after classes when I played badminton with Kim Lanny, my best friend. Lorna walked up and grabbed a racket from him. Lanny stepped aside. She tossed the shuttle toward me and I tapped it back. We played like crazy, her smile beckoning, and I had a point to prove. We played till 6 p.m, and I did not want to antagonize her again, as the proverb goes, “Once bitten, twice shy”. For the next two hours, we played an intense game until she tired out.
We walked off silently to shower in separate bathrooms. I felt exalted as I walked to my class whistling, to pick my khaki school bag; Lorna had followed me stealthily. She nearly gave me a heart attack when I felt her moist hand clasping my neck.
Lorna stood there, her face was luminous as a rising sun. I can never express how I felt. Here we were, standing toe-to-toe. She smelt like a morning rose. She was beautiful in her light-blue uniform dress and white tennis shoes.
Then, she glided closer, and before I could stop myself, my hands were on her slender waist. Lorna placed her warm lips on mine, and her lips tasted like milk chocolate. Her big, brown, lovely eyes stared at me now, waiting for my reaction. Her warm mint breath caressed my face softly. Our next kiss was hard, soulful, and passionate. It has been twenty-six years since, and we are still happily married with five children.
To this day, I am glad I took the bull by the horns, and I can never forget that moment in my life. It is never good to take someone for granted though, but love is the true epitome of our human nature. Love conquers all adversity!
© Mwebe Morgan 2021
March is always a rainy month in the tropics. It is always a month dreaded by the students in Africa.
It had rained heavily again this morning, and I had reached school late and dripping and wet as an eel. I felt feverish. It was the mid-term of senior four at Lubiri Secondary School. The moment I stepped into class, I was clumsy as a bull in the China shop. I had an itching allergy, often made worse by cold water or chlorine. My whole body itched terribly; it was like the African fire-safari ants had invaded my being. The teacher of English, Miss Lubanga was horrified, as I scratched my body severely. Everyone in the classroom laughed hysterically, but not Lorna.
She had walked up and offered me her warm woollen jumper, which I took gladly. It embarrassed me, but I still felt cold as Mountain Rwenzori snows. Lorna did not mind the laughter. She smiled beautifully. After a short while, I warmed up, and the itching eased. I stared at Lorna seated on the first desk, writing her exercise quietly.
That very moment my mind drifted back four years when I had joined senior one. Lorna was the first girl I ran into after being admitted to a government secondary school. She was light-skinned, and of medium height, maybe five feet tall. She was skinny and small. I had got lost in this new maze of a big school. I found Lorna seated on a rickety old wooden bench near the parade ground, reading David Copperfield, a novel written by Charles Dickens. I stopped, stared at her shyly. I asked timidly, "Where's Form 1 A?."
She promptly pointed in its direction. As I turned to walk off to my new class, I felt a warm, moist hand on my bony shoulder; she had decided to walk beside me. After we introduced each other formally, I asked her, "Which primary school did you study at?"
Lorna answered quietly, “I studied at Buganda Road Primary School,”
Wow! I exclaimed. “That was a top level-tier government school in Kampala. I am from Nabagereka Primary school”, I continued excitedly.
My former primary school was small and hidden away in the slum areas of Mengo-Kisenyi, just a kilometre from Kampala, the capital city of Uganda. The school was located in the poorest neighbourhood, a place that flooded frequently. I gasped remembering the blood and toil.
But I was grateful to God that I was one of the best students and had got admission to a top-rated secondary school in the country.
Lorna and I became close friends after that first encounter. A loud bark from Miss Lubanga woke me up from my reverie. I felt disoriented and failed to answer her question.
“Stand up!” Miss Lubanga barked hoarsely at me. The ringing of the bell saved me from a lengthy period of standing and frog-jumping. It was the change of lessons. Lorna laughed at me as I smiled back.
Over the years, I fell in love with her but feared expressing my feelings. She was the apple of my eye and was terrified of telling her how I felt. I also feared rejection. I was late. She had fallen in love with a handsome, burly boy, a footballer and the top scorer in the junior football league.
Ntale was a bully and intimidated all students and the teachers. He was the son of the Headteacher.
I was the long-distance champion for two years now. Then came one unforgettable day. My friends and I had been training hard for the upcoming inter-district athletic championship when I saw Lorna, standing there, staring at me. Hurriedly, I galloped a bottle of cold Pepsi-cola, and walked to Lorna and lifted her off her feet. I kissed her hard. My friends cheered on.
She had fought hard to be put down, but I did not. After a few seconds, I stammered at her. “I loooveee you, Lorna!” And I put her down.
She slapped me furiously as I stood there like a zombie. Then, I felt blood in my mouth. But I gripped her small, slender hand again and held it. Now, the students had gathered in large numbers and cheered me on.
The commotion had attracted Ntale to the scene. He was furious, and he pushed me down. With lightning speed, I stood up and swung around and grabbed him by the neck, choked him a bit before lowering him to the ground. Ntale was breathless. Shamelessly, I whispered in his ear that I would sting him like a bumblebee. By now, I had a large body of supporters. Maybe Ntale had forgotten, I was the mess prefect at the school, and this was my turf! Most students hated his attitude.
Ntale feared the further confrontation, and he melted away quietly. Lorna slapped me hard again; I felt more warm blood in my mouth. She shrieked away with embarrassment while she hauled abuses at me. I felt remorseful but excited, I had defeated a feared bully at school.
The next few weeks, Lorna avoided me like I had a contagious plague. I felt terrible inside, and my heart ached. I could not concentrate on my studies.
I was a broken reed now. For the first time, I knew I was in love. I wrote her countless poems and apologies, but she would not reply. My class became my harsh prison.
Further attempts to win her heart proved like flogging a dead horse. Then, I remembered an old saying, “the course of true love never runs smooth.”
A miracle happened to me one sunny afternoon after classes when I played badminton with Kim Lanny, my best friend. Lorna walked up and grabbed a racket from him. Lanny stepped aside. She tossed the shuttle toward me and I tapped it back. We played like crazy, her smile beckoning, and I had a point to prove. We played till 6 p.m, and I did not want to antagonize her again, as the proverb goes, “Once bitten, twice shy”. For the next two hours, we played an intense game until she tired out.
We walked off silently to shower in separate bathrooms. I felt exalted as I walked to my class whistling, to pick my khaki school bag; Lorna had followed me stealthily. She nearly gave me a heart attack when I felt her moist hand clasping my neck.
Lorna stood there, her face was luminous as a rising sun. I can never express how I felt. Here we were, standing toe-to-toe. She smelt like a morning rose. She was beautiful in her light-blue uniform dress and white tennis shoes.
Then, she glided closer, and before I could stop myself, my hands were on her slender waist. Lorna placed her warm lips on mine, and her lips tasted like milk chocolate. Her big, brown, lovely eyes stared at me now, waiting for my reaction. Her warm mint breath caressed my face softly. Our next kiss was hard, soulful, and passionate. It has been twenty-six years since, and we are still happily married with five children.
To this day, I am glad I took the bull by the horns, and I can never forget that moment in my life. It is never good to take someone for granted though, but love is the true epitome of our human nature. Love conquers all adversity!
© Mwebe Morgan 2021
