LETTER TO MY YOUNGER SELF

As I turn a year older, I can't help but look back at the past twenty five years of my existence. It brings me peace to be conscious of the fact that life flows in me. It equally brings with it memories that now looking back makes me think, "If given a chance to go back in time, heck, I would do the exact same things!" With no regrets whatsoever, this is my story.

I was never the sharpest student in my primary school era. Honestly, I was among the blunt tools in the shed. Only by flipping the class performance list upside down would have me appear in the top five. It never bothered me for a single day for I had made peace with it. I identified my fellow academically handicapped students and vowed that I would strive to always defeat one of them and never be last. In that, I excelled in flying colors.

Being divergent in books, I found myself being the class clown and nuisance in every way possible. I got in a lot of trouble in unfathomable foul speech, violence and mockery. Many instances come to mind but this dares stand out: the school headteacher, then and surprisingly still now, threatened to call the police on me! It has been a secret all these years and only recently did I reveal it to my dad that had him scratch his head in disbelief. It now gets you by surprise having known me as charming but I was a little demon back then. Buckle up for this one.

"Simon," came rushing Ezekiel to my classroom door. "You're in trouble!" He said as he pulled me outside disrupting my classroom theatrics. "How bad?" I asked being accustomed to trouble. "You're required in Mr. Imbusi's office." Soon as I appeared through the cracks of the halfway opened office door I heard, "Do you know how serious the government is right now about protecting the girlchild education?" he asked fumingly. "No, sir. I don't." I replied knowing there isn't any form of punishment worse than I had ever seen. However, he did slap me letting more nuts loose in my brain to a deafening sharp ringing sound in my ear to which from far off I heard him say, "The police are on their way right now!" Now that got me by surprise!

A parent from a neighboring school called in to report violent abuse of her daughter. I admit that I was guilty but hear me out. This girl to whom I only remember the nickname I had given her as "Sunguch" (loosely translated as rabbit because of her conspicuous Kalenjin incisors) had insulted my then deceased mother to being a street urchin. This had me take up her arm under my armpit, bending her hand to the point I wished it broke and tore apart from the wrist but I managed not. This failed attempt had me shaken while waiting for the police the entire afternoon. Luckily, they never showed up and that evening while at the dinner table I told my father that I wanted an immediate transfer to a boarding school. "Why, my son?" he asked. "I want to get used to depending on myself early on before high school." I said convincingly however truly I was escaping the jaws of the police.

Mr. Imbusi was only bluffing. He had punished me to the extent that only the police and/or the judiciary could take me down. (Surprisingly, as if written in fate, I battled him and the same institution in The Nakuru Law Courts on the 2nd of August,2022 without having a lawyer and I won the case. Of course I did. What did you expect of me? Anyway, I digress. That's a story for another day).

My remaining days before transferring to boarding school had me focus on the arts (drama, music and drawing) and swimming so as to rebrand myself. However, like everything before me, it all came crumbling down. I was kicked out of drama club for having ridiculed the entire cast about them not being as good. Music had my teacher Mr. Sammy say to me, "Stop and go back to class" as I was practicing on the upright piano in the music room. While participating in a drawing competition, to which I was deeply talented, the art's teacher Mrs. Margaret asked me, "Where have you copied this drawing from?" My submission was so good but my reputation surpassed my ingenuity to be nothing but a fraud. While swimming, my speedos underwear came off me while I dived into the pool. As I stood in the shallow end oblivious of my exposure, I turned only to see my then crush Aisha Faiz Juma covering her mouth with her hands in disbelief of...if you ask me, the size of everything that she saw.

One day, our class teacher Mrs. Grace, had us talk about what we wanted to be in the future. It was a very serious moment in which every student revealed his/her "soon-to-be very certain cast in stone career paths". "I want to be a doctor." "I will be a lawyer." One by one, row by row each student spoke up their visions. "I will be a paediatrician." Sharon my desk mate said. "What!? What on earth is a pedi...whatever she just said!" I asked myself. I had never heard such a word before let alone the career. Students in this class knew their stuff I'll tell you for a fact. It was now my turn to speak and the whole class looked at me. I took my time to speak because this seemed as a life and death situation. Most students started chuckling because they knew my loosely connected braincells were conjuring up something stupid. "I...I want to be..." I started off. I scratched my head and then as if a lightbulb lit in my head I said, "I want to be a soldier!" My eyes popped up in excitement of my future but the entire class blasted off laughing since apparently being in the military wasn't as good as being a doctor, or a lawyer, or even a pedi...whatever Sharon wanted and hopefully is. Mrs. Grace heaved a sigh and called off the session. My future wasn't as bright and it darkened the moment.

Dear me,

I am deeply proud of you for being in the pursuit of life's adventures as fluid as water with no rigidity in the outcomes that so proceed. Soldier on. Fight every worthy battle in your mind and in the physical realm even if it forces breaking arms. Be comfortable to being different. Mr. Sammy should hear you play the piano now. Mrs. Margaret should see the buildings you have drawn, designed and constructed as an engineer without copying. Mrs. Grace should see your muscular physique and 6ft height of a soldier. Mr. Imbusi already knows your prowess in the legal system despite you not being a lawyer. He had a taste of your medicine and you aren't even a doctor. Your classmates should see you write. With your shoulders back and chin up, Aisha Faiz Juma should stand before you now.

I will be gladdened to hear of your successful progress soon if you so wish to write back.

Yours truly,

Simon Nyambati.