The National Hero

The day had simply become longer than a decade.

Since he went to their school library, took the newspaper and found the passport pictures of very small kids placed at the front page with a bold headline of ‘Where did they go’, his mood of the day took a swipe. He had gazed at one of the pictures perplexingly, unsure whether he was to obey his instincts or his reason. The thoughts were still vague, and no matter how he tried to shun them off, the more they hit on his psyche, spinning it into more confusion. He had thought of throwing away the page in order to mitigate against the growing piercing thoughts. A strong force however told him not to throw the page away, but to rather keep it and raise the contents of the paper with his mother. Though they had at one time held such a discussion, he needed to raise the matter again. This idea compelled him to fold the paper and he buttoned it well in the back pocket of his gray trousers.

He had anxiously waited for the noon and afternoon lessons to end. Though four lessons only, they seemed never to end, and truth be said that he didn’t concentrate in any of the lessons. His English literature teacher noticed and commented. Though they had known each other for the seven months he had been in Form One, the teacher had mastered him very well. His strong interest in literature and English grammar made him become a friend to the soft spoken Mrs. Ruth.

He walked towards the parking lot, anxious that their driver had already arrived. His friends were quite excited that it was Friday, a day they always went home after a week of boarding and study. Unlike other secondary schools where it was either full boarding or full day schooling, theirs was a unique one. They boarded from Sunday evening to Friday. On Friday, they were picked by their guardians or representatives and spent their weekends at home. Being an International school, students came from rich families, and none went home by bus. They were all picked in private vehicles. A serious traffic jam always ensued every Friday, as the over one hundred and fifty students were picked. Nolan had always longed for this day so that he may go home, meet his friends and play games in his computer room. He loved this.

“Dad and I are flying to Mombasa tonight. Am so excited” his friend said.

“Quite good” Nolan responded dryly. He was pulling his wheeled bag along the tiled corridor to the parking lot.

“Are you feeling well Nolan?” Bob asked. They had known each other way before they joined Form One at St. Thomas International School. They were at the same class in the lower school.

“Am feeling sick” he responded sadly, unwilling to say what was bothering him.

“Maybe you are home sick. You will get well when you get home” Bob commented as he changed the safari bag he was carrying to the right hand. Despite the changing weather, his stripped red sweater was tied on his left hand wrist.

Nolan observed a meditative silence.

He heard the loud laughter of some boys who were behind them. He was able to recognize the voice of the loud mouthed Cesar who was one class ahead of them. Cesar was fond of mocking his colleagues.

Nolan didn’t look back to see them. It wasn’t his business whether they were laughing for them or not.

“My dad told me that your dad wants to be the Governor of Nairobi. I wish my dad can become one. Big time” Bob said while brushing his short curly hair.

Nolan faked a smile.

He was partially excited when he heard that his dad was vying for the Nairobi County Governor position. Some boys envied him, and Nolan was partially excited at first. The passion however became shaky when he once visited his cousins home in Syokimau in Nairobi. He had an argument with the cousin over a girl who was saying that he was handsome than his cousin, and that she liked his tall stature. His cousin was envious, something that drove him to utter things that started to nag him. When he raised the issue with his mother, it was easily brushed off through a narration that his mother seemed shaky as she told it.

Though his relationship with his dad has never been social and friendly, the matter stretched the distance. The matter had started to fizzle out in time, but the paper in his pocket resurrected the story in a powerfully ugly manner. He wished that he was wrong, and that his paranoia was merely paranoia. The issue would displace him fully if it turned out be true.

“How do you feel?”

“He is yet to be elected” Nolan answered blankly.

“But your dad is popular. He will be elected” Bob said convincingly. He was almost panting for the short distance they had walked. His weight may have served as a disadvantage to him. He was already sweating profusely as if he had just taken 10 kilometers on a treadmill.

Nolan again put a plastic smile on his brown face. He didn’t mind so much about his dad’s election or popularity.

It was true that his father was popular in Nairobi, having worked as a Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Energy. He had already started his campaigns, with their home becoming a beehive of activities, especially during the night. He wondered when his father slept because guests would come as late as eleven at night, and Nolan would find his father in their home gym practicing as early as four in the morning. What they lacked was time together, as almost all his dads time was spent with people. If it wasn’t with the people, then he was at his beach hotel at the Coast. That was a lesser evil though, as his presence was characterized by endless noise. His mother was similarly a rare commodity, with her furniture and fish distributions making her a tourist of many countries. She tried to be close to him whenever she was around.

They walked in silence. They then stopped when they got at the parking lot. Numerous boys waited impatiently as vehicles drove in a snail pace. Nolan studied the whole compound and didn’t find their home driver. Bob too didn’t find his brothers car and he requested Nolan that they occupy the waiting seats at the far end of the drive way. Bob must have required rest like yesterday.

Nolan placed his bag on his lap. He immediately felt the vibration of his cell phone. They were allowed to use phones from Friday to Sunday, but not during the weekdays.

He removed it and immediately noticed it was his mother. He massaged his aching forehead. Thoughts had stretched him quite far.

He stared at the dark skies, licking his lips obliviously. He wondered what he could tell his mother.

“You do not want to pick the call?” Bob asked curiously. His talkative character couldn’t hide. “Who is it?”

“My mother” Nolan responded confusedly. His forehead continued to throb in pain.

“Hello son, how are you doing” his mother asked immediately he picked the call.

“Okay” he responded curtly while blinking repeatedly in bid to fight off tears. His tears always lay next to his eyelids, and he knew he could cry over an imagination.

“Are you really okay? You sound down my son. What’s up? Has Oliver arrived?”

“No” he again answered summarily.

“Have you called him? I understand it’s raining in Nairobi” She asked. It wasn’t raining when she left to Canada five days ago. Nolan didn’t know what business took her mother to Canada. He however knew that she had some good Canadian friends, who had even visited their home once.

“I have not called him” Nolan said honestly. His mind wandered aimlessly. He had so many things he wanted to tell his mother that he didn’t know what and how to start. Bob was listening to the conversation.

“Mum, when are you coming back?” Nolan asked out rightly.

“Sunday, why are you asking?”

“You can’t come tomorrow?”

“My ticket is booked for Sunday. Have you missed your mum?”

“I need to talk to you”

“About what Nolan? Is anything bothering you?”

“Yes mum. Please come. Am really stressed and …I don’t know what to do. Am confused. Sunday is very far” Nolan closed his eyes. Bob seemed interested, and he looked at him in his small eyes.

“Nolan, what is wrong? Please tell me. I can fly right now. You know what you mean to me. Are you okay?”

“Am not mum. Please come”

There was some silence.

“Just come mum. I need to talk to you”

“Please tell me what the problem is”

Nolan wanted to ask his mother to read the Friday paper, and particularly the story on the peasant couple that lost their son at the age of three years. He wanted her to read the story before they met, so that she may answer his questions. He however dreaded that he could be acting out of paranoia. The story in the paper however continued to cut him into pieces, and the more he run away from it, the more it gazed at him like a monster. A possible correlation of the story with what his cousin said was a real horror.

“I have to hang up mum. It has started to rain”

Nolan hang up even before his mum could respond.

They rushed to the sheltered parking bays. He rubbed his eyes to wipe out the tears that had started to flow on his cheeks. Bob could have noticed because he seemed touched.

“Sorry Nolan” Bob commented as they stood towards the end of the parking bay. They held their bags in their hands. “Can I give you some soft tissues?”

“It’s okay” Nolan responded briefly. He bit his lower lips in thoughts that swayed from one edge to the other.

What if it’s true, he thought strongly. What was he going to do?

“You told me that the Rwanda Journey changed your life” Bob diverted to other stories as they continued to wait for the people to pick them.

The rain was increasing and the blustery wind blew raindrops to all directions. They stepped back to avoid their feet being drenched. Their black shoes had begun to be wet.

Bob wore his sweater after a cold breeze started to follow the wind. He had stopped sweating.

“That changed my life” Nolan shook his head resolutely.

They had visited Rwanda two months ago as the youths of Holy Rosary Catholic Church. He was a youth member of the local church, and was lucky to visit Kigali Memorial. At the mausoleum, they paid tribute to the millions of people who were massacred in Rwanda. What touched him was the memorial room showing the children that were brutally murdered in the genocide.

“The message that said that ‘children, you might have been our national heroes’ deeply touched me, and I made resolve for myself. There were names of children like Bernard, Fabrice, Evon and…God, it was very emotional” Nolan continued shaking his head. He remembered how a couple of the churches youth who visited the memorial cried on seen that. Nolan too wept”

“I told my dad that he has to take me there” Bob commented. We may visit the place on December”

“Quite good. You will see a young boy who wore a T-Shirt embroidered with the word Kenya. He too was butchered. I would not want to see that happen”

Another silence ensued, before Bob noticed his brother in his metallic blue Mercedez car. He rushed towards him after waving Nolan.

Nolan waved back and continued waiting.

He wondered what he was going to do since there was no one at home apart from the house help.

His cell phone vibrated again. He noticed it was his dad when he removed it from his pocket. He tried to think of anything that could have gone wrong. His dad could only call to make noise. There was nothing wrong he could imagine he had done. He put it back in the bag and again bit his lips thoughtfully. The vibrations continued though.

He recalled the story that was deeply disturbing him, and the so many questions he needed answered. His resolve was to ransack the house before his dad arrived late in the night.

He waited for his dad’s call to drop before he dialed their driver’s number.

His renewed desire was to be at home and see if he could verify some facts.

If it emerged it was true, then he didn’t know what and where to start. Though he needed to know the facts, he wondered whether he was bold enough to face them. He didn’t want to imagine what he would do in case the story of the peasant couple was a story of him.

What if they were his parents? What if their hope was pegged on finding him one day? He prayed it wasn’t true. He looked different from the pictures he saw on the newspaper. He didn’t think he had any similarities with the peasant couple.

He removed the paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He then folded it back after he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to do with the unfolding.

He remembered that he was making a call to their driver.