You will all remember that when the laugh of my life, the pretty Fiolina, returned home from her people, she came with her niece, Electina.
No one had sought my permission given that it is my home, and I should have some input on who gets admission to my palace.
But I remembered my father’s wise words — that although the home is mine, the house is Fiolina’s. Fiolina wasn’t bothered by my anger at Electina’s unannounced arrival. She went on with her life normally.
I was therefore not surprised when last Monday Fiolina arrived at school with Electina, whom she wanted admitted to Class Eight.
She had not mentioned such a thing to me at home. With the headmistress not around — she is yet to report since the year began — I had to handle the matter.
Usually, a new student is required to have a clearing letter from the previous school as well as Sh200 for interview.
Fiolina did not have such a letter. Your guess is as good as mine regarding whether I was paid the Sh200 or not.
I took Electina to Class Eight, where Lena welcomed her. Electina was still wearing her previous school’s uniform, which was torn.
Last Wednesday, I arrived home to find that she had been sent home by Kuya due to the uniform. It was clear Kuya wanted to spite me.
“He told me to tell my parents to buy me Mwisho wa Lami uniforms,” Electina said when I arrived home. Kuya was right, her parents needed to buy her uniforms, not her guardians.
To avoid the incessant reminders from Electina, I left for Hitler’s. For the first time since the earth was created, Tocla, Electina’s father, bought me a drink.
I would later learn that Kizito, the lawyer who has always wanted to be our MP for years unsuccessfully, was building a house and had made Tocla the foreman.
Tocla was thus flowing in money. He bought several people plenty of liquor.
NOT A NEEDY CASE
As I staggered home that evening, I made quick calculations and realised that with the money spent on drinks for two days, Tocla could be able to buy uniform for his daughter, and not expect some generous relatives to do so.
Fiolina confronted me when I arrived home. “Kama huyu angekuwa mtoto was Yunia, ama Caro, ama wa ndugu yako, ungekuwa ushanunua uniform,” she said. “But kwa sababu ni mtoto wa ndugu yangu, umetuwachia mzigo.”
She reminded me that I had brought my siblings’ children many things without complaining. “Plus, you are the deputy of the school. Hiyo ni aibu gani unatuletea?”
She had a point, and I almost considered caving in, but when I remembered that Electina’s father had been blowing money at Hitler’s, I resolved not to help. This was not a needy case like those I had helped before.
I told Electina to go to school the next day. That evening, I had a discussion with Tocla, reminding him that his daughter was now in Class Eight and we could not afford to see her out of school if we truly wanted her to pass well.
However, Tocla did not give any commitment or a way forward. He just said he would look into the matter, and ordered for another drink.
He did not show any enthusiasm about the matter, and although he had money — for he bought more drinks — he could not spare even a little for his daughter.
As I staggered home, I wondered, “If the father is not enthusiastic about his daughter’s school needs, who am I to be concerned? I was neither Red Cross nor CDF.
On Friday, I arrived at school at 8.30am and went straight to my office, where I locked myself in to get some work done.
I stayed there for quite some time and was interrupted by some commotion outside. It was Fiolina accompanied by Electina.
She wanted to see Kuya. “Mbona unafukuza watoto kwa sababu ya uniform pekee?” Fiolina asked, saying she would report the matter to Magoha.
Kuya looked at me and reminded me about the school’s policy on uniforms. “Otherwise, everyone would wear anything. We need order,” he said.
Fiolina told him she was aware of that “but could we allow Electina to stay in school as I work on the uniform issue?”
I directed Kuya to allow Electina back on assurance that the matter would be sorted out in two weeks.
Even as I said so, it was clear in my mind that I would not buy the uniform. That evening I found a fuming Fiolina at home.
She was still angry that Electina had been sent home over uniform, and believed I had something to do with it.
“Brandon, Bedford na Theophillas hajawahi fukuzwa hata kama uniform imeraruka,” she reminded me. “Why can’t you talk to your teachers to allow her to learn as you plan to buy the informs?” Posed Fiolina.
However, I read mischief in Fiolina’s remarks. I was not going to commit to anything. Not when Tocla was still alive and able to buy the uniforms.
She was upset. “Have I ever refused to do anything for Brandon yet the mother is alive and capable of supporting him?” She asked. I tried to explain that the two cases were different, but she could hear none of it.
I only agreed to ensure that Electina is not sent away from school for some time; that is until Bensouda reports.
But under no circumstances was I going to start spending on her. Not when her father was still alive and blowing money at Hitler’s!