Have you ever found yourself shouting “Satan! Get behind me! Satan! Get behind me” as you take to your heels with ‘Satan’ in hot pursuit?

That is exactly what happened to me many moons ago when our primary school drama team had just gotten back to Eldoret after a failed national drama festival in Nairobi.

Disappointing drama festival trip

Our school, Uasin Gishu Primary, had done so well in the singing game category under the care of Mr. Suleiman all the way to the national levels only to meet ‘those who have reached’ at the national level thus making us travel back home without any trace of a trophy.

Not even the class sevens and eights, who had stamped their chests as they recited their award winning poem “Urithi ni haki yetu, na vita kama mwataka mangumi mutayapata”, got an award.

Do you think sponsors and ‘sponsees’ started fighting the other day? These are some of the poems my age mates were taught in primary school, no wonder my age mates who now qualify to be sponsors and ‘sponsees’ are fighting day in and out.

Don’t blame them; it is because of those poems we were taught in primary school. Only this time they are not using ‘mangumi’ as their weapon but loaded guns!

Let’s get back to the drama trip; sponsor-sponsee topic will be for another day.

Tired, hungry and disappointed, we had left Nairobi mid morning in a train and got to Eldoret way past midnight.

Our parents had given up waiting for us at the railways station and so our teacher suggested we walk to school during that satanic hour in order to catch some sleep in our assembly hall on mattresses we had carried.

There we were, at the wee hours of the night walking to school carrying our luggage. The older boys and girls in upper primary carried the heavy luggage while those of us in the lower primary had the lighter ones.

Closed gates

Eldoret is a small town and within no time, we were at the gates of Uasin Gishu Primary. To this date, I do not really know where the guard had gone to. He was nowhere to be seen even after we decided to hit the gate with stones to ‘wake him up’ in case he was asleep.

After our efforts bore no fruit, our teacher suggested that we climb the gate and jump over into the school compound. Those in upper primary were once again given the duty of carrying and helping us to the other side of the gate.

I tell you, rigging started way back. Those of us who were considered fat and heavy were pushed away by the big boys and girls. They wanted to carry the ‘portable’ ones first into the compound. These are some of the disadvantages of being a desktop while others are tablets!

I knew I was fat and knew they were avoiding carrying me but still, I tried my best to push myself to the front. I wanted to get into the school to safety. Standing out there was of more harm than good to me.

Remember all this was happening in total darkness and Satan must have been working overtime that night because all of a sudden I heard a loud bang followed by screams then there was a commotion.

If you have ever been to that school, I bet you know the gate is directly opposite a cemetery.

The ‘ghosts’

Lo and behold, I immediately knew those people had risen from the dead and were coming after us. I did not even wait to know what had happened, I started running at the highest speed towards Westindies estate.

As usual, I never make any sound when running from any danger especially in the dark because making any sound would show the attacker exactly where you are.

That moment I forgot that I was fat and heavy and all I could think of was my mother. How will my mother react if she wakes up in the morning to news that ghosts had taken her one and only Beryl the Peryl away? That thought alone made me accelerate, still in total darkness.

That’s when I felt someone grabbing my shoulder and I knew I had fought a good fight, finished the race and kept the faith. Satan had finally caught up with me.

“Satan! Get behind me! Satan! Get behind me,” I started shouting as I struggled to get myself away from its grip.

Before I knew it, my feet could not feel the ground and I was dangling from above as if ascending to heaven like my maker.

Then someone spanked my behind and, in an accent similar to those Swahilis at the Coast, shouted: “Nyamaza wee!”

Kwisha mimi! This was not just a ghost but one of those experienced ones from the Coastal region.

Those ones you run to for help after you have seen a human being with feet donkey hooves and instead of helping you, they lift their trousers to show theirs as they ask: “Kama hizi zangu?”

I stopped struggling and played dead, just like millipedes do when interrupted.

Then I started humming one of my mother’s favorite songs with my eyes shut: “Lord take my heart and receive my soul, now I am returning home.”

They were all imaginary

The next time I opened my eyes; there was a huge crowd that had gathered.

At first, I thought I was seeing Nebuchadnezzar and Bartholomew. Yes, those who died more than a hundred years back? Yes, I thought I was finally at the gates of heaven.

I first opened one eye to confirm my location and once I realized they were not speaking in Jewish but Swahili, I knew I was not dead and opened the other eye.

I had been carried by Mr. Suleiman into the school compound. That’s when I knew what had actually happened.

Our gate could not hold the pressure anymore after people started climbing over it and so it gave into the pressure sending people in different directions screaming for help.

I did not want to sleep even after we were all carried into the hall; I just did not want to risk daring the devils again in my dreams.

My efforts to stay awake did not last as I dozed off somewhere in between Godly and ungodly hours only to wake up and find my dad standing next to me.

That marked the end of me and any participation in school events, apart from sitting for exams which I also failed anyway!

This world has taught me much more than everything I ever learnt in school.

Satan! Get behind me!