The Gathering Storm

Twelve

128 TWELVE Dawn fell upon Mbazala Mission. Dew lay everywhere, on the tall steeple, on the creeping grass of the mission compounds, on the leaves of the tall cone-tree that surrounded it, everywhere. It was chilly. Two hundred metres away from, the mission house lay the Mbazala Boys’ Boarding Middle School. The brightening eastern horizon sent faint light falling upon the plain. The light made it possible to distinguish one building from the other at first, then gradually even one brick from another. Faint rays fell upon the old wooden door, the short verandah leading to the head teacher’s office, the huge motor-car tyre ring that served as a bell hanging on its pole, the football field. At length even the single grains of sand could be identified. The day had commenced. 129 But the wooden windows which closed tight in their frames gave no sign of the oncoming daylight. In one of the dorms, on a bed in the corner, somebody awoke abruptly. He listened for a while to the breathing of his fellow boarders sleeping in the dorm. They slept soundly like little babies. He envied them. Throwing off his blanket he got out of his bed, dressed, and went over to the window. He pulled the bolt. Strong sunlight dazzled his sleepy eyes. The outside had awakened some time ago, he discovered. His heart throbbed. Without wasting more time he rushed to the door and ran out. The light, which was growing more and more intense, worried him and he ran the two hundred metres to the church, mounted the steps and opened a small side door that led up to the steeple. He climbed the cold steps, breathlessly making his way up. The pattering of his footsteps ceased and the bell started ringing, sending a familiar note without interference across the plains and ridges. It rang for half a minute or so, then the sound of the huge bell was slowly swallowed by the chilly morning air. The whole dorm, plus those nearby, awoke, and the school boys streamed hurriedly to the church. Believers from the neighbourhood, teachers and students entered the church and sat in their places in orderly fashion. The Reverend Father Waters said the mass. Half an hour later the boys took their breakfast, hot gruel. They sat at long tables stretching right across the dining room. At the end of one table sat a boy wearing a red sweater over his 130 khaki uniform shirt, white stockings and polished black leather shoes. He cut a piece of bread from a small bag by one of the table legs. He dipped a knife in a tin of margarine that lay on the table and carefully smeared margarine on the bread. He passed it aside to a friend sitting opposite him, bending over his own bowl of hot gruel. “Take this, Simon,” he said. The other boys squinted rapidly at the buttered piece of bread that Simon received. They returned their now-blank eyes to their gruel. A massive iron going fell several times on the steel tyre ring in the school compound, sending familiar notes to the boys in the dining room. They left their clean bowls at their bedsides and rushed out. They lined up on the quadrangle in three rows, standard eight on one end and standard five on the other. They stood with their arms at their sides waiting anxiously for the headteacher, Mr George Manono, to make his appearance. In front of the anxious boys a group that made the school band had lined up, too. The drummers stood in front; those with flutes, at the back, whistling softly. At last the headteacher appeared, followed by Ezekiel Mayenge, assistant headteacher. These two walked stiffly and stood before the pupils. “Today we will go on with the work we started the day-beforeyesterday . Five will remove all spider webs on the walls of the whole school. Seven will deck the dorms. Eight will wash the classroom desks and six will wait here. Those already assigned can go to their places of work.” 131 The boys dispersed. Then Mr Manono turned to go back to his office, when he remembered something. “Boys, a moment,” he said turning round. Mr Mayenge’s went over to the bell and it sounded again. The boys ran back to their lines and the place resumed its...