Then there was the annoying question that every adult seemed to ask. “Urari namba ciigana?” translation, what position were you last term? That was a question every visitor to our home asked. Didn’t they know we had already been chewed out by our parents about our performance the day we brought home our report forms on closing day? And now they were bringing up the unpleasant subject yet again. When do we ever get a break? Our parents, our teachers, our older siblings and now visitors.
Well, I wish asking was all they did and then dropped the subject. No, no, no. Even with an impressive number two position, my illiterate and semi illiterate relatives and friends of the family put in their two cents worth. “Ucio urari namba imwe mutirari kirathi kimwe?” translation “the student who beat you to position number one, weren’t you in the same class?” If you dared say number ten and over, “hi urari muhoote biu” “you were completely defeated!!”
Fortunately, our performance was always good, we never went beyond number ten. I was wondering what could have happened had we been number sixty and beyond. These people would have put us in front of a firing squad without a doubt.
Those were the adults in our lives, visiting or otherwise, you would think they were undercover Agents for Taita Towett, our Minister of Education back then. They were intrusive with no regard for boundaries. Every adult was our ‘parent’ and we answered to them and accorded them respect just like we did our parents.
How many regimes can a bunch of six kids bow down to?
