Chapter 1: First Day Of School
The moment I walked through the rusty blue gate of Kinondoni Secondary School, I swear my brain whispered, “Welcome to the battlefield.”
“Yup, just what i needed for a change in scenery” I told myself as I saw my dad leaving out the blue gate with his white Corolla driving away from the distance, and I’m not sure if my eyes are deceiving me because he drove faster than usual as if to get away from the ” nonsense” he’s spectating at, I guess he’s had some of his own “moments” during his school days.
I caught the smell of freshly cut grass mixed with dust which hit me right in the nose. I looked around, students everywhere, wearing uniforms that somehow looked cleaner than mine even though we all left home at 7:00 a.m. Maybe they had gremlins for house workers.
As my eyes wandered, I noticed the older students near the school grounds, laughing like they owned the place. They probably did. Their uniforms were kept neat and their shoes polished like mirrors. Meanwhile, my socks already looked like they’d fought in World War II. Well I did wear them on my last year of middle school so no harm done right?
I clutched my new backpack, still stiff and smelling like the local shop I bought it from — and took a deep breath. This is it, Donovan, I told myself. No more middle school nonsense. You’re in high school now. Mature. Responsible. Focused.
As I walked toward the main block, I noticed how big the school was, three long buildings joined together, each painted white with green windows. And from a quick but clear glance, I could tell from the rooms just by their appearance from the outside(or from the literal sign on top of each door but hey i’m just being open minded).
Like the laboratory room, looking all serious and science-y, the staff room all cramped but giving big red flags if you ever found yourself in trouble(which I doubt that’ll ever happen to me),the computer room, the library and the canteen....oh the canteen...I’ll just leave it at that :)
I caught myself staring at a group of girls chatting near the library. They were laughing, covering their mouths like they were in some drama series. I quickly looked away, not trying to die of embarrassment on day one. I swear there’s a 90% chance one of them is into K-drama.
But with all of these happening I kinda, and, just for a moment, thought about middle school. The tiny classrooms, the teachers who called you “brat”, and how everyone knew everyone, where socialism was at its highest since all kids could talk about are cartoons and video games.
But here, the vibe is the same but with older ”us" as we prepare to adulthood for he unforeseeable future. Here people walk like they have missions, secrets, bit of mischief but still had some sense of achievement and accomplishment to fulfill.
Still, a small spark of excitement lit inside me. Maybe high school wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I’d make new friends. Maybe I’d even talk to a girl without stuttering. Or maybe... I’d just survive(hopefully).
The bell rang, loud and metallic, like it was calling for all of us in the vicinity and pretty sure we all knew what it was about, the morning assembly. I took one last look around and thought:
Four years. Just four years. How bad can it be?
