The Sunday Mail
Wendy T Munyuki, U6 Mandava High School
We often feel it would be cool to know what’s going to happen soon after high school. We love to guess how the teenage life we are living is going to end.
We would like to know whether we will marry the so called blazer boys we are dating in high school.
We sometimes get obsessed with our high school love games that we make reading horoscopes a daily habit. We come to consult the so called ‘madzibaba’ to tell us how our love life with our dearest maestro’s will last.
High school journey, like any other journey, is filled with unexpected turns. It is only in high school where we are obsessed about love letters and we call them ‘maps of love’.
It is only in high school that we will cry ourselves to bed when our so called KINGS and QUEENS kiss one of our worst enemies in class. Pretty girls are the happiest that’s our belief.
Our so called Boo’s n Bae’s ought to be perfect and never let us down but do High school lovers qualify for such standards?
Crazy as we roam up and down the corridors fancying ourselves and trying to get noticed by the new cute guy whom we think won more than a thousand trophies for being handsome, its high school deception again.
It is during that time when we want to be recognised a lot. We will not like to be judged, underestimated or let our backgrounds known.
When teachers say something about us being unfocused and foolish we beat our chests and harden our hearts that we will not break up with our muse and again we feel like queens of magic and illusions.
During a mathematics lesson we are bored by the nerdy, bony, geeky teacher and start to exchange glances with the so called John Bibo assigning to meet under the Msasa tree soon after the lesson where you will be used as an object with no one noticing rather than being valued and respected.
When the headmaster announces that the school territory is not a love nest we feel that our boundaries have been violated and manipulated and the whole term will be horrible.
It is in high school when we believe in flying saucers, in telepathy, in ancient astronauts, in the Bermuda triangle.
A time when the blood rules and not the mind. When you get those big pimples you are afraid of not knowing which version of you will roll out of bed to start the day. Will it be the confident or monster you?
You ask yourself ‘what will my muse see when he looks at me?’ You will feel depressed, wallowing in your own pity for the whole day because your muse pretended you are not there. You hide your feelings behind the mask of lie that you are not hurt and what are you?
Day by day you will be dying slowly, yes you can’t go on, there’s something missing but till then you are still wondering when will John wipe your tears and erase your fears.
You will start to remember those mid-summer evenings when you sneaked out and you were swimming in the sky with stars. You remember those muggy hot touches you did in the backyard.
Never did you think he will leave. High school life has an uncanny way of bringing tears.
You thought high school love was your forever place but it seems as if days are numbered. Little did you know you have lost your spine.
You turn your head 135 degrees while in class and see your muse but it feels like you are 500 miles apart, you just whisper the so called ‘‘I LOVE YOU” words and you seldom cry. You will mumble between your sobs and see a vision of muse waving and parting your so called relationship.
Your deskmate tells you ‘nothing is permanent in life, we are pilgrims in this life’ as she holds your shoulder .You ask yourself ‘Will l ever dare to venture in the light?
In high school love is the sharp body’s distress, denial is the route and rejection is the flute. lt is where we do things without proper contemplation and we reap the consequences of our negligence.
You are now afraid to face the results of your actions with fear gripping your heart. Shame threaten to cripple you since you can no longer face other students. What an embarrassment to your pride.
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