THIS IS ME.

Born in the year 1985, Mum happens to be the best person to tell of how i grew from that day but i came to personally know my self when i joined nursery school. This is all i can remember hence i decided to tell my story the way i know it. May be you will learn something from me......!
Welcome......

Back in 1991, i joined nursery school at Kiaritha primary school. Mrs Mugo was my teacher and soon, she taught me how to blow my nose, sit down on a desk and listen to her, ask for permission to the loo and how to address her in her right title not forgetting how to read and write my names and fit them in the space provided. .By the end of the year, i had a tip of  the basics of education and having been able to clinch the first position in the nursery school stream, i was promoted to join class one the following year.The award for clinching the first position was the usual Maziwa ya Nyayo where i was given two cases and assigned a class eight dude to carry them and escort me home as i was so tiny to carry the weight. Never mind what happened after i took an "over dose" of this milk and the consequences in the following three days.

In the year 1992, i joined class one Red which was taught by the Late Mr Gichohi commonly known as 'Mbira' which was an abusive word that he used to call students when he got mad of them. He used to cane so much and i had to tell mum that school was no longer interesting with such caning. It was soon that i  realized that he used to teach my dad and had this behavior of canning in his 'blood '.Mum had to very fast think of a rescue plan which was hatched too fast for him to get an idea of what had taken place. I was sneaked out of his class to join class one White which was taught by the now retired Mrs Gitau and my names changed to Samuel Muthii to disguise and confuse him. This was the turning point in my education life as she held me like her son and i regained my interest in education
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During the years 1993 and 1994 the basics of my education were enhanced with minimal drama until towards the end of year 1994 where a major blunder occured. I had cut Sarah Wanjiru on her thigh with a Razor blade as i was undertaking a mischievous venture under her desk. This resulted to thorough beating by Mum and Mwalimu hence marking the beginning of what was routine in my life. 'To ice the lower primary mischief cake', we had a boys' fight with Mureithi Ndambiri and mwalimu decided that the punishment was to receive five strokes on our behind without touching them lest we lost the already received canes and the counting starts afresh. I took my five with ease but Mureithi, nicknamed 'Gacamba' could not bear more than three which meant the last day in school for him as he ran out of the class and never got back again.There was no any practical day that passed without me being whipped by mum for all a manner of mischievous ventures that i used to undertake.Despite this, we did end term exams and i emerged number one as usual and was promoted to join upper primary.