When we all struggled to mention America, Canada, Australia and other foreign countries, Nyambeche shouted Rwanda. A handful of us turned to her with what-did-you-just-say eyes as if she’d grown a third eye on her small but smooth forehead. Even the look on the teacher’s face was somehow not cool at all however much she pretended to act normal.
It was a miracle to mention African countries as our dreamland countries when we had foreign countries that were heaven-like.
Nyambeche was the best-performing student in our class. We all fought for second position going downwards since we knew number one was always hers. It was a normal thing to see her top the class and we found nothing shocking about it. Her saying Rwanda instead of America or Japan or China or Dubai or any successful country away from Africa was obnoxious and somehow evil. How could she just choose Rwanda of all the countries? To us, she deserved to be laughed at or be mocked or be beaten but because she was the most beloved student among the teachers, we only did so in our hearts.
Nyambeche being the brightest student in our class meant that she knew something about Rwanda that we didn’t. If it was Gloriah or Brian shouting Rwanda, then we wouldn’t be shocked because they are knowledgeably challenged. That’s how our CRE teacher told us to be referring to stupid people or fools. He told us it’s sounds wise and professional to call the underperforming students as knowledgeably challenged. But for this case was Nyambeche, not any other person, just her. We couldn’t just leave it that way.
During break time, we all wanted to know why she’d said Rwanda. Was it a slip of the tongue? Was she absentminded when she said so? Or she’d got the question wrong?
“Lady Glow, why did you go for Rwanda?” Annette was the first to raise the question.
We’d nicknamed her Lady Glow because she glowed in exams.
“Is there any problem? I thought the question was simple. Everyone was asked to mention his or her dream country.”
“Yes, we know but…” Caroline jumped in but was immediately cut short by Nyambeche.
“But what?” Shouted lady glow.
It was her nature to be rude because she was not only a well-performing student but also the most beautiful. Boys fought for her attention leaving us behind. Her shouting never bothered us. Even if I was the one, beautiful and bright, I would be rude. It’s normal for people to be rude and boastful when they have something that others are having sleepless nights just to possess it.
“Okay, why didn’t you mention our countries?” Sharon said, imploring her.
No sooner had she said it than the bell rang and we all rushed to class for another learning session.
Enroute back home, she was still hesitant to tell us. She was beating about the bush and we gave up imploring her. We had no time to caress her heart with sweet words just to open her mouth. Of course she wasn’t God. She was like us, why then treat her like an angel?
That was way back in 2025 when in class five. We are now in 2047 and I now understand why she chose this country that’s now my second home. I’m from Kenya and I’m still on the process of adopting my dual citizenship with Rwanda. I’ve attended so many conferences in our then dream countries when in class five but I’ve never found peace of mind like in Rwanda.
I’m seated on my foldaway chair, enjoying the cool breeze that’s coming from Mt Karisimbi. From where I am, I can see three photos of Rwandese maps through the window planted on cream wall. I can speak a bit of Kinyarwanda.
The first time I told my mum that I’m cogitating of changing my citizenship, she shouted at me with words that sounded like curses.
I’d just visited her in the country and we were now having supper, ugali and roasted mutton. I was still looking for the best way to broach the topic but it was a hard nut to bring it on the table. I feared how she would resonate with it. She loves me so much just like the way Jesus Christ loves his church. Telling her that I was planning to move away from her would be the worst thing she has ever heard. She sensed it all.
“Mary, what’s the problem my daughter? “She asked.
“Nothing mama, I’m okay.” I said. I lied.
“No, just tell me, I can see in your eyes. Something is amiss,” she said, insisting.
“No. I’m fine.” I persisted.
“Come on my daughter. Don’t tell me my eyes are playing games with me. I’ve raised you and I believe I know you better than you know yourself. I know there’s something irritating you. Feel free.”
I was left with no any other option. I remember taking in a long breath then took in a gulp of water before letting it all hang out.
She said so many things I can’t remember. Perhaps I can only remember a sole thing and that’s “only a bribed person will leave his blood country for another one!” After giving it a second thought, I saw sense in it and that’s how I went for dual citizenship.
I wish I could tell her that with over 60% of its members of parliament being female, Rwanda has the highest percentage of women in the parliament in the world. When she was a schoolgirl, she really championed for fair representation of women in leadership positions. The mark on her left cheek came as a result of her being fought by one of the naughty boys after she protested for a lady to be chosen as a school president.
I wish I could tell my mum so many things about Rwanda. Does she know of it being one of the cleanest countries in the world? I’m sure she doesn’t. What of community work day? I would’ve really told her a lot but she’d already switched off.
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Wafula Meshack is a multi-talented creative writer, poet, storyteller and media practitioner. He writes both Fiction and Non-fiction works. He was selected as the best Kenyan outstanding reader in Read to Impact, an African reading community in 2022. He once served as AMREF Mosquito Nets Ambassador in Bungoma County. Wafula has also served as an English teacher although for a short period. He has also hosted several articles writing masterclasses targeting media and communication University students and took part in the 9th African Library Project Summit as one of the partners. He’s done book reviews, and written several short stories and some of his poems are forthcoming in “African Voices: An Eye for An I” and “Echoes of Humanity” anthologies. His commentaries have been published in various newspapers in Kenya like Daily Nation, The Standard, The Star and Mt.Kenya Times and other online journals like Education News and TheYouthing Magazine. His hobbies are Reading, Cycling, Listening to cool Rhumba music and overthinking. He believes great writers are great readers. Currently, he’s taking his Bachelor’s Degree in Media and Journalism while serving as a School Website Content Developer and Library Social Media manager at Rongo University in Migori, Kenya.
Read – Boots for the King – A Short Story by Ken Mwango – Kenya
