Drum Bits of Terror: Drum Bits of Terror

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29 4 am’s life at Bumbe Polytechnic was not bad, hard back breaking, but not bad. He acclimated well to his new environment. The weather was no different from that in Mung’oma Village. The only adjustment he had to make was relearning the dawn raise. He had to drag himself from bed at cockcrow to get ready for school. He attended his classes regularly and had no choice in the matter, but to participate in the hard-core job-training portion of his trade. He had to learn all there was about bricklaying. He had to learn how to work with concrete. He had to learn how to mix concrete. He had to learn how to place and shape concrete. He had to learn all about how to pour footings or foundations. He had to develop a good understanding of bleed water that settles after pouring a floor and how the heavy material gradually settles, leaving a thin layer of water. He had to learn techniques on how to construct good mortar joints or how to re-point brick mortar joints. Yes! There was nothing unique about his life, but the mundane. It was a tough life in deed, of lugging bags of Bamburi cement, of hauling tons of sands on a wheelbarrow, of fetching gallons of water downstream for mixing the cement and sand. He had to get used to getting covered in concrete dust. There was no shade. There was no relief. If the wind made it down, it carried with it clouds of teeth gritting dirt that caused Sam, and the other men, cringe in agony. Though there was no way of escaping it; it either built his character or weakened his resolve. Despite all these hardships, Sam’s first year at Bumbe was incident free. He worked hard. He focused on his studies. There was nothing to distract him at all. For he understood its significance; it was his gate path to success and offered him a promise to an impeccable future. Even when some of his teachers like Judas Mukonji, his masonry teacher, made life difficulty, he did not fret over it or pay him much attention. He executed Judas’ demands with ease. He coveted the end, which was much sweeter than the pain or S 30 the struggle that accompanied it. Soon, being only human, when life became extremely taxing, he found other avenues to tame the punitive nature of his struggle—he took to changaa,6 an illicit drug that lulled the minds of the most weakened souls of the world. His soul had been tempted countless times and had unwillingly yielded to the temptation. In it, he sought an escape from the drag of his everyday life. Somehow, he had forgotten what the Old Man had told him about alcohol many years ago. If only he had listened, if only he had not yielded to temptations, he would have saved himself more heartache, and he did have a few . . . There was only one place in the entire Bumbe village where Sam sought refuge from his hard-back-breaking training—Louise’s Den. The villagers named it Louise’s Den after its owner, but later simply shortened it to the Den. It was a half a mile away from the Polytechnic. For men who simply wanted to abdicate their home responsibilities or escape from their daily stress, the Den was their perfect escape. There was nothing spectacular about this place; it was a small semi-permanent house, roofed with corrugated iron sheets and mud walls. Inside, its floor was cemented. The living room was a narrow, small, cosy and smoke filled area that could only accommodate no more than ten occupants at a time and gave the ambiance of a real home. There were no real windows, just one hole cut into the side of the wall. It was neither round nor square, but had wooden shutters to bar entrance to any unwanted intruders. That is why the room was slightly dim and always smoke-filled. Yet, its dimness was ideal for those who sought to remain incognito. There were only four small jua kali crafted wooden tables where she served her illicit drink and soup to her most faithful customers of which most were from the Polytechnic, and Sam was one of them. Though her customers were not only limited to these students, but also teachers, business men, even villagers alike paid her homage. Louise, owner of the Den, was...