by Besa Mwaba
The waiter took the money from Nawa and then disappeared into the crowd.
“Nawa, what I was asking…”
“What time did you get here Moses?” Nawa interrupted with his own question. He looked uneasily at his friend.
“We came about thirty minutes ago. We need to chill because as you know, today is a Friday.”
“Yes daddy’s day out,” replied Nawa thoughtlessly and then he laughed very loudly.
“Yes indeed. Let us enjoy ourselves.”
Moses gulped down his beer and then said, “Nawa, remind me. How is your child, the one who was down with malaria?”
Nawa almost cursed at his friend. Instead, he took a swig from his beer and said, “Well, that was my nephew from Livingstone. He had come for a holiday at my house when he fell ill. He is alright now.”
“I mean Inambao, your second…”
“Where the hell is this damn waiter!” yelled Nawa, looking frantically in all directions. The waiter arrived with their beer and then placed it on their table. Nawa passed a nervous glance at Moses, but his colleague appeared to be in some deep discussion with his girlfriend. Nawa took advantage of that lapse in security to ask Stella to dance with him.
Being a seasoned dancer, Nawa mesmerized everyone with his agile dancing antics. Every now and then, he swirled Stella around and the audience cheered. He discovered that each time he swirled her round, her short red dress flew up and he could see a substantial amount of thigh. Soon, he stopped dancing and his style was now only confined to swirling Stella round.
Shortly after midnight, Nawa staggered out of the bar with Stella. He did not know whether Moses had left or not, or whether he was still seated with his girlfriend. He was too drunk and all he needed was Stella. The two staggered to an isolated dark corner and Nawa began to touch Stella all over.
“Do you have enough money?” asked Stella. Nawa was too breathless to speak. He just produced a bunch of cash from his pocket and then showed it to Stella. She smiled.
“Then take me to your house,” she said.
“No. What do you think my wife will…I mean my wife’s brother…err…my brother’s wife will do?”
“Then, let us go to my house instead. I live with my sister in a one roomed house.”
The two then staggered into the darkness, holding on to each other tightly.
*****
JUMA cursed himself for turning up for this date at the newly opened Le Cuisine restaurant in town. Violet had convinced him to dine with her as they launched the assignment. To have rejected her offer would have dealt a damaging blow to his project and his ambition to become the next headmaster at the school. Besides he was deep into her hands now, having seen the inside of her knickers already. He would go along with her until she had fully helped him, and then he would end the affair.
Until now, his seven month pregnant wife, Julie appeared unaware of this friendship. He knew that it would be a disaster if ever he was caught. The trouble would not end at his home. It would follow him even to his local church, of which he was a deacon and now treasurer.
He looked at his watch again. It was six-thirty and there was still thirty minutes before the agreed meeting time. Juma had decided to arrive early so as to acquaint himself with the place before his date arrived. He had no intention of looking lost or foolish at the crucial time.
To prepare himself for this occasion, he had iron pressed his green jacket which he only wore when going for important church services. He had polished his shoes very carefully. Again this was because he didn’t want to look low class at the new restaurant. But as it turned out, he had overdressed for the occasion. The other guests were only casually dressed and carefree and they were enjoying themselves with hearty discussions on their tables. Juma had picked the table right in the middle of the room and this had made him very visible. And because of his dressing, waiters had jostled over each other trying to serve him. He had smiled apologetically when the last waitress had come to him and asked, “Welcome sir. What may we serve you? Can I bring the menu?”
Again he looked at his watch as another waiter approached his table. This meal was on Violet’s account and he had come without any single coin. Not that he had any at home or the bank. He waved the waiter away as everyone stared in his direction. Everyone was dining; he was the only one sitting and doing nothing.
Juma began to regret this decision to come. Surely he could have suggested another way of launching his assignment than in this embarrassing atmosphere. He decided to leave. He had just lifted himself off his chair when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Hey Mr. Handsome, already here?” asked Violet with a sweet smile. She was in loose black slacks and a purple sleeveless coat. She smelled good too.
“But you are late,” protested Juma.
Violet looked at her watch and then said, “But it is six-fifty, ten minutes ahead of schedule.”
“Is it?” he asked nervously as yet another waitress approached their table. The waitress greeted both of them and Violet asked for the menu. The waitress put one on Violet’s side and the other on Juma’s. She then stood a few inches away waiting for their orders.
Violet ticked her choice in ten seconds and the waitress turned to Juma. He looked at the menu with alarm. He realized that there was nothing he recognized on the menu and ywet he had to make a choice quickly. He read through the list three times, desperately looking for anything suggesting chicken, beef, pork or even eggs. He knew that it was too late now to choose what Violet had chosen because the waitress was already holding Violet’s order. There was silence as Juma tried to make up his mind, his heat beating audibly in the process. Because of pressure, he directed his finger to item three when he discovered to his horror that it contained “caterpillar” in its long name. The last time he had eaten caterpillars was twelve years ago and his face had swelled very badly while he was still eating his meal.
Juma decided to tick at item sixteen, that being the date he was born.
“You have ticked on mushroom soup sir. Are you sure that is all you will have?” the waitress asked. Juma pulled back the menu quickly and then quite at random, pointed his finger in between item eleven and twelve. The waitress took the orders and then left the table.
“So how was your day my dear?” Violet asked Juma.
“I handled three classes but it was okay. What about you?”
“I was conducting research in a village three hours away from here. I am tired but very happy to see you.”
“I am happy to see you too.”
Violet smiled. Then Juma said, “Have you drawn up the questionnaire yet?”
“Yes I have it in my bag. But you obviously have to make typed copies before distributing to the teachers.”
The waitress brought their orders. Before Violet, she placed potatoes, chicken and vegetable salad. And before Juma, she placed a plate of pork chops and French fries. She also placed a bowl of mushroom soup next to his plate. Juma beamed with unbridled joy at his good order, which he had ticked blindly.
The two set out to their meal.
“How is your wife doing?” Violet asked Juma as she started to work her way through the meal.
“She is resting. I am sure she is fine.”
“What will happen if she catches us one day?”
“Huh? I mean…what was your question?”
“I said, what will happen if she catches us one day?”
“I will insist that there is nothing going on between us.”
“What will you do if she rejects that explanation? Or if she beats me up?”
“Yes.” replied Juma. That was not the answer to her question so Violet pressed it, “What if she says that I am your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” replied Juma again.
Violet stopped eating and looked at Juma. He was clearly distracted. With his fork and knife, he was chasing around a piece of meat all over his plate in an effort to pin it down and cut it. He was trying so hard that once, the
meat almost fell off his plate. Until now, he had not succeeded in putting anything in his mouth and he was salivating very badly. Whereas Violet’s plate was almost half way gone, his remained as it was when brought. As things stood, he would remain with a full plate at the end of the meal.
“You asked me about my girlfriend’s wife?” he blurted out, his concentration focused on the resisting pork chop.
“Waiter, can I have a dish of water please?” Violet called out. The water was brought to their table.
“Personally,” began Violet “I prefer to eat with my fingers. I find it easier because that is how I was brought up.”
She then washed her hands and then started to pick her food with her fingers. Juma was very appreciative of this. He also washed his hands and then shifted his seat closer to the table. His first target for assault was the same pork chop which had made him feel foolish as he chased it whole evening. He threw it in his mouth and crushed it with his teeth without any mercy. The next chop suffered a similar fate. Not even bone pieces were spared. Occasionally, he threw into his mouth pieces of fries. Within five minutes, he had overtaken Violet’s rate of consumption.
CHAPTER SIX
“Of late, I have been receiving numerous complaints from pupils concerning meals. They have been complaining that meals are no longer served on time, and that the meals are no longer enough for them to concentrate on school. They also say that they are served vegetables and beans all the time.
But considering that the school allocates a huge budget towards pupil’s feeding, I am quite shocked with the revelations. I need these problems solved within two weeks. I want you to manage this assignment,” said the headmaster just before knocking off time that day.
Nawa was overjoyed. With a smile, he replied, “Yes sir, count it done.”
“Good, so then I will place you in charge of the budget too. You are free to manage this in your own way. But at the end of the exercise, I shall be on the lookout for results. I want a confirmation from pupils that the meals are enough and are served on time. I want them to be fed reasonably well, considering the money that you shall have in your control concerning the same.”
Nawa leaped with a clenched fist as soon as he disappeared from the headmaster’s view, He considered it an honour to be placed in charge of food. Food was a very important aspect of the school budget. For the headmaster to consider him to take charge of that important aspect, it meant that Nawa was considered reliable and able to deliver. It meant that he was surely being considered seriously for the position of headmaster.
“Can you explain to me why food rations for the pupils keep going down all the time?” Nawa asked the school cook, Tembo a few minutes later.
“Boss, we are cook only what we are given by other boss in charge. When we ask, he tell us there is no money so we ration and now pupils complain.”
“I am now in charge,” said Nawa with an air of authority. “Give me a list of food rations that are required for the problem to end. Money is not a problem now.”
“Yes boss.”
“I also want to know why the meals are not served on time.”
“Boss, we have two big pots for school. One big pot keep break down. So only one pot now is reliable.”
“What is wrong with the pot?”
“I think no spare part, boss. But it is old, that is why.”
“Alright, I will bring some experts to have a look at it tomorrow.”
“Boss, you are good man. I wish there were many like you.”
“Actually, I am now just waiting to be appointed as the new…” said Nawa before cutting off his sentence. He marched away from the school cook.
Nawa decided to pass through Stella’s house on his way to the bar to celebrate his new fortune. As he walked, he began to analyse his other two possible competitors for the position of headmaster.
He first thought about Moses. Moses had a degree and he was hard working. However, he had no experience worth talking about. Besides, his multiple illicit affairs with his own pupils had now become common knowledge. Moses would not make the grade, concluded Nawa.
What about Juma? Juma had a diploma and reasonable experience. He was also known to be a pastor at his local church. But Nawa believed that Juma would only fool the foolish, not him. He was in an adulterous affair with a lady from the UN while his wife was heavily pregnant at home. Nawa decided that Juma would also not make the grade.
That left only him and Hamweenda. Hamweenda was the fourth senior teacher at the school. He too had a degree but his output was unrelated to his paper. As if that was not bad enough, he was on suspension for having a bare knuckle fist fight with one of his pupils in class after the two had argued on the real meaning of the word “cock” during a lesson on Animal Husbandry in Agriculture science.
That left only him.
Nawa reached Stella’s house. The door was shut but he could hear whispers inside. He waited and listened with alarm.
“You know that I love you very much,” the female voice was whispering.
“Then show me now baby,” the deep male voice whispered back.
Nawa could not stand it any longer. His chest welled up in anger as his heart beat faster. So Stella was busy having an affair with another man after all he had spent on her? Summoning all his strength, Nawa gave the thin shut door a mighty karate kick and the door flew off its hinges on impact, with its handle and nails flying all over the room and crashing against the wall. With an audacious determination, he walked inside the house.
On a small makeshift bed sat a very startled and shocked old woman and a young girl of about fourteen. They stared at Nawa with very confused and questioning expressions on the faces. In one corner was a black and white TV which was showing a soap opera.
“Do I have to show my love other than saying it?” the female actor was saying, as Nawa watched in horror and embarrassment.
“Err…Stella…she…where is Stella?” he stammered in embarrassment.
“Is this how you enter my daughter’s house?” the old woman asked, clapping her hands once in total astonishment. Nawa scratched his head. His mouth went dry.
“Who are you?” the old woman demanded. Nawa did not reply. His eyes darted towards the door as he thought of running away.
“You do not want to tell me who you are? Alright, let me shout “thief”…”
“No, no, no madam, do not do that, I am just a neighbor living next door and I am lost because this is not where I live. I saw a lizard running into this house and it locked the door…so I said to myself, if that lizard was my son…”
“He is lying mother. I know him. He is one of the teachers at Sambililo School. His name is Mr. Nawa,” the little girl interrupted.
“In that case, let us just go and report him to his headmaster and then bring him here so that he sees for himself what one of his teachers has done.”
Nawa went down to his knees. He pleaded, “Please madam, I beg you in the name of the most high, please do not do that. I am sorry. Please let us negotiate.”
“Were you coming to kill my daughter? Why did you come in that manner?”
“Madam, how can I ever dream of killing your daughter?” he asked with fear in his forced smile.
“What are you doing here? I will shout.”
“She came to give me extra…I mean I came to give her extra lessons.”
The old woman stood up and wrapped her chitenge properly and then said, “I think we must see the headmaster.”
Nawa dipped into his pocket and produced a bunch of notes. He said, “Please think about my apology. I ask you not to go to the headmaster’s office.”
With that he handed the money to the young girl and then got off his knees. He left the house and headed towards the bar.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MOSES took headmaster Jefferson on a conducted tour of the school three mornings later on a Saturday. He wanted the headmaster to see for himself that good progress was already being made on the assig
nment to commence preventive maintenance. He took him to behind the hostels where grass slashing was in progress. Trenches were being dug and there was dust everywhere. The headmaster nodded. Very soon this messy eyesore would pave way for a new look school with beautiful gardens and clean surroundings.
Next, he took him to the classroom blocks were mopping and scrapping of walls was going on. They also toured the toilets and there too, work was starting.
In thirty minutes, the tour was over and Moses felt certain that he had successfully impressed the headmaster on the assignment so far. He had even sacrificed his Saturday in order to make sure that the exercise went on smoothly. These, he felt, were the credentials that would be considered at the time to select the new headmaster.
Something still tugged at his conscience. His illicit affairs with school girls were going to be an obvious obstacle if they entered the public domain. But he was making steady progress in ending these. So far, he had ended eight illicit affairs with his pupils and was remaining with only seven. Of these, Maria was proving to be the most difficult to cut off. Whenever he invited her to discuss the dissolution of their affair, they always ended up in bed. He had tried to end it three times already.
Moses parted company with the headmaster after assuring him that he would transform the environment to standard. The headmaster walked back to his office. As he walked, he watched the buildings. They were looking terrible at this stage, much worse in fact, but that was because initial works had to be done. Soon the school would be shining.
Jefferson then caught sight of a second teacher that quiet Saturday afternoon rushing towards the dining hall area. He whistled after him.
“Nawa, what are you doing here today, on a Saturday?” Jefferson inquired.
“Well, I am on my way to collect the budget and plans from the school cook. You see sir, I took the assignment you gave me on pupils’ meals very seriously and I am ready to sacrifice this Saturday in order to complete the exercise.”
“It sounds good,” said Jefferson.
“In fact, I have made wide consultations on this issue and I have sat with pupils’ representatives as well as the kitchen staff. We are heading somewhere. My assurance is that I will raise the school meals to standard.”
