There is something enchanting about a lady in uniform. A nurse, a police officer, an air hostess, an usher, a member of the choir or even a student. They are different from all of us in ordinary attire. They stand there in groups, looking all alike, yet so different. Wait till they start doing coordinated activities. A sight to behold. But there is someone who shivers every time they see a lady in school uniform. His name is Pinchez. So what is with Pinchez and school uniforms? But before that, what sort of name is Pinchez?
Pinchez is ghetto for Peter. Like Simon Peter from the scriptures, Peter was devotedly pious his whole life. He had even been appointed as the Chairperson of the Christian Union back at XXXX Boys High School. He was a saint. He exuded such a righteous lifestyle that it earned him the nickname Apostle. He scored his B+ and joined JKUAT Main campus to pursue a Bachelor in Architecture. As any other celestial shepherd of the flock would do, he joined the University Christian Union Chapter and immediately got elected to some semi – senior position in the union executive committee.
You must have known someone who was a member of these executive committees. The ones where every male member is Brother So and So and every female member is Sister So and So. Where these brothers and sisters meet every Wednesday afternoon for Bible study and hang back every Sunday after the church service to discuss pertinent issues affecting the work of The Lord. The ones whose WhatsApp Group chats are thronged with Bible verse quotes and YouTube links to some killer gospel jams. The ones where the members are fond of visiting each other’s humble hostel abodes and sharing some tea and cookies as they share testimonies and cheer each other on, in this seraphic battle against the devil.
Brother Peter was in charge of Outdoor Evangelism. This entailed organising crusades within the university and facilitating for missions outside the university, including weekend challenges in the high schools around the area. He adored his job. Three weeks in, he had already secured permits and licenses for two outdoor crusades and scheduled weekend challenge sessions with three schools. Two girls’ school and one boys’ school. Three days and two nights in each one of them. The first school was a girls’ school located somewhere in Thika. It was all systems go. Transportation to and from Thika, check. Meals and accommodation for the members, check. Program, check. Theme, check. It was now time to cast out some demons.
The girls looked like the Nigerian flag in their green skirts and white shirts. They were so exhilarated. They sang their mouths dry and danced till it hurt. They screamed their lungs out and ululated in unison. They were like little kids on a trampoline. The air in the room was stuffed with hope, reassurance and purity. And a little sweat. Souls had been converted and evil had been defeated. Brother Peter was a proud man. His theme verse had come to pass. Romans 10.1: Brethren, My hearts’s desire and prayer to God for them is for their salvation (KJV). The school headgirl gave the vote of thanks and a group photo was taken. Just as they were packing to be on their way back to Juja, one of the students approached our brother.
‘Hi, my name is Janet. I want to say thank you for everything you guys have done. I am really inspired,’ she says.
‘Hi Janet. I am glad our work has not been in vain,’ BP responds.
‘Uhhm, what course did you say you study?’
‘Architecture,’
‘Wow! I also want to be an architect when I join campus,’
‘Oh really? That’s wonderful. Not many girls are interested in this field,’
‘Uuuhm, could you give me your number? I stay in Thika and when I break for midterm, I would like to come over and see what you do in class,’
‘Uuuhm, I don’t really think that is a good idea,’
‘Why not?’
‘Our classes are strictly …’
‘Hey Peter! We need to bounce. Time is not on our side!’ a voice shouts from the door.
‘Coming!’ BP shouts back as he scribbles his mobile number on Janet’s notebook. He dashes out and boards the bus, which meanders through the leafy suburbs of Kiambu county, en route to Juja Sub County. Janet’s friends come rushing and surround her. She shows them Brother Peter’s handwriting. They giggle in excitement like the little girls they are.
***
A chilly mid – February morning. Brother Peter is in class listening his lecturer blab on and on about Urban Design and Landscaping when a text comes in. ‘Hey Pish,’ it reads. He ignores it. Focus, he tells himself. Ten minutes later, another text message. ‘Ni Janet,’. Class ends and he texts back.
‘Which Janet?’
‘Khaaai. Uxhanixahau?’ (Translation: Oh My! You already forgot me?’)
BP stares down at the picture on the display profile again.
‘We met at the weekend challenge?’ he asks.
‘Eggsactly!’ she responds. (Translation: Exactly!)
‘Oh. Niaje? Mko mid – term ama?’ (Translation: Oh, how are you? Are you on a mid term break?’)
‘Eeh. Nimekumixx!’ (Tranlsation: Yes. I have missed you!’
This caught Brother Peter by surprise. No girl had ever told him that she missed him. How do you respond to such temptations from the devil? Simple, you do not. He put his phone on silent mode and went about his ministry business. After a three-hour Christian Union executive committee meeting, he grabbed his phone and his screen was a nightmare. Seven missed calls and thirteen messages. All from the same person. Janet. Janet from the weekend challenge. She had sent him her pictures. She looked different in home clothes. Different because these home clothes were just a short tight dress. She looked exquisite.
‘You look good,’ he responds.
‘Really? You think xo???’ (Translation: ‘Really? You think so?’)
‘Yes,’
‘Thnkx. Naeza kam kexho u xee me in perxon’ (Translation: Thank you. I can come tomorrow and you can see me in person,’.
No. Tomorrow is not possible. It is a Saturday and you have to prepare for Sunday’s church service. You have to test the public address system. You have to make sure the choir’s uniform is ironed. You have to make sure the church is cleaned and you have to rehearse for Praise and worship.
‘Sorry. Tomorrow is not possible,’
‘Juxt 20 minutex. Plz plz’ (Translation: Just for twenty minutes. Please?’)
No response. Brother Peter dozes off. Tomorrow is a big day and he has to get up early.
***
Saturday evening. You are putting final touches to tomorrow’s church service when the church choirmaster calls you outside. Apparently, you have a guest at the gate. She only identified herself as your friend but would not be let in since she does not have a student identity card. She says she cannot reach you through your phone but she knows you are from the Christian Union. So security call the only person they know from Christian Union. The choirmaster. You stroll to the gate in awe. And you get dumbstruck when you see who it is. Janet. Janet from the weekend challenge.
‘Janet! What are you doing here?’
‘Are you not excited to see me?’
‘No! You shouldn’t be here!’
‘So you want me to go?’
‘Yes! You have to go back home, Janet,’
Silence. She stares at you, disheartened.
‘You need to leave, Janet,’ you insist.
‘I can’t. My parents will kill me for leaving without permission,’
‘What! They don’t know where you are?’
‘I just wanted to surprise you,’ she says and starts crying.
You are muddled. You have never been in such a situation. What should you do? Hold her? Comfort her? Abandon her? And this is not one of those scenarios where the good book has a verse for. You have to make a quick judgement. ‘Okay. Stop crying. Come with me,’ you say. You lead her to your place. You have since moved out from the campus hostels and now live in a small bedsitter across the highway. With a roommate.
‘Stay here. I need to rush back to the chapel to finish up on something and I will be back in a few minutes for us to figure out what to do,’ you instruct her. She nods and smiles softly, the tear marks on her face reflecting against the light. You dash to the chapel and confirm that all is set for tomorrow. You ring your roommate and inform him of your visitor. You request him to source for alternative accommodation elsewhere so that Janet can have his bed. You tell him you have decided to have her spend the night and she will leave the following morning. He protests profusely but finally agrees after you promise him you will cook and do the dishes for one week all by yourself. On your way back home, you pass by F1 and buy two packs of french fries, accompanied by four samosas and two sausages. Then you buy the one-litre soda at the local supermarket. You knock and get in. Janet is lying on your bed. This will be a long night.
***
2.30 am. Janet is wheezing heavily. Her face is as pale as turnips. She tries to mumble something but you cannot comprehend what she is saying. She is rolling on the bed, gasping for air. You shake her uncontrollably but this aggravates her even further. You stare at her helplessly before she collapses on the bed, face down. You panic. You start to scream. A neighbour comes to check what is going on. She tells you that your guest is asthmatic and needs urgent medical attention. She dials a boda boda guy who takes a whole quarter-hour to get there. The three of you speed off to the school infirmary and Janet is taken in. You remain outside in the cold, your teeth grinding inside your clenched jaw, wondering what on earth you got yourself into.
Half an hour later, you are called in. Janet is feeling better and is sipping some hot chocolate. The medics want an explanation. Who is she? Who is she to you? Is she a student? Where is her student ID? Why did she not have her inhaler with her? She looks underage, how old is she? You have no clue where to begin. You lie your way through it and her bill is credited to your student account. Peter Njoroge. Bachelor of Architecture. First year, second semester.
The school van drops the three of you home. You are as sleepy as you are irked. You love your sleep. Who doesn’t? It’s annoying for someone you hardly know to steal two hours of your sleep for a stupid mistake as not carrying their inhaler. She should not even be here in the first place! It’s no use going to sleep now. You tuck Janet in and read your bible before hitting the shower to get ready for church. You down your breakfast, dress up and proceed to the chapel, leaving Janet in bed, like nothing happened. You give her clear instructions on where to leave the key as soon as she leaves.
In the middle of the service, you receive dozens of calls. You ignore them but they become a tad too many. You excuse yourself and answer. Your building’s caretaker. You are wanted at your house immediately. Oh, not again! Your crib is like a fifteen minutes walk from the chapel. On your way there, you come across a flyer posted on the school notice board. It has Janet’s image and the word MISSING in bold right above her picture. You freeze. Right there and then, you receive another phone call. You answer and say nothing until you hear her voice. It’s your neighbour from last night. The one that helped you take Janet to hospital. She explains everything to you.
Janet is not on mid-term. She was suspended from school. Her school had called her parents to confirm if they had received the suspension letter. Her parents responded saying they had not even seen or heard from her. The school reported the issue during the school assembly and one of Janet’s friends stepped forward confessing what Janet had told her. That she was too afraid to face her parents with a suspension notice, and would go to a friend he knew in JKUAT. The principal informed Janet’s parents who began the process of searching for her all over the university. They posted the MISSING fliers all over the school. Word spread fast. The medical staff at the university saw the flier and identified her. The driver led them to where he had dropped them last night. They found Janet asleep, in your bed!
Brother Peter felt his knees become weak.
What sort of devil’s handwork was this?
There was no way on earth he would come out this unscathed.
Who would believe him? Who would believe that he had spent the night with an underage girl and did not touch her? Who would believe that he did not know this girl’s second name and had only met her once before, at a Christian function? Who would believe that he was a staunch Christian? Who would believe that he was a virgin? Yes, you are right. Nobody!
Brother Peter switched off his phone and threw the SIM card away. He rushed straight to the bus station and boarded a matatu headed to Nairobi. He alighted at Ngara and went to his brother’s place. He explained everything to him. They analysed their options for a while and they came to a conclusion. That that was the end of Brother Peter’s education. And that from that day onwards, his name would be Pinchez.
***
Pinchez is currently a freelance model and fashion designer. He has never made any effort to contact Janet whatsoever and says he does not want to open that wound. Ever. He shelved his dreams of being an architect and now designs clothes instead. It is not what he used to pray for back at Christian Union, but again, it is still better than prison.
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