Baraka
and the Bully
Annie W. Mang’eere
Language Booster
Baraka and the Bully
Published in 2018 by Queenex Publishers Ltd
P.O Box 56049-00200, Nairobi, Kenya.
Phone: 0727 794 498, 0715 808 200
Email: info@queenexpublishers.co.ke
queenexbooks@gmail.com
Web: www.queenexpublishers.co.ke
All rights reserved. Do not reproduce, store in a retrieval
system, transit in any form or by any means: graphic,
electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or
otherwise any part and or this entire book without the
prior written permission of Queenex Publishers Limited.
Illustrated by Tony Siema
ISBN: 978-9966-075-75-8
1
1. The favourite teacher
Neema shivered slightly as she jumped onto
the pavement that led to her class. It was cold!
She skipped in the direction of her classroom door,
pushed it gently and let herself in. She broke into a
smile when she looked at the girls who had arrived
earlier than her.
“Hi!” she shouted excitedly, waving at her friend
Sifa and the rest. The girls turned to her and waved
back, smiling.
She threw her school bag onto her chair and
turned to leave the classroom. But before she could
take a few steps, she heard the shrill ringing of the
school bell. A frown crossed her face as she stopped
dead in her tracks. She had hoped to see Teacher
Nekesa before the start of lessons. That was now
not possible. It was already time for assembly.
She turned around, in time to see Sifa rise from
her desk. She waited at the door and without a
word put her left arm around her friend’s shoulder.
2
The two hurried out towards the assembly ground,
where they joined the Standard Five girls in the
queue.
“Everybody in a straight line,” Neema sang jovially
as she took her place behind Sifa.
Suddenly Sifa turned to her, face beaming with
admiration at something she had seen. Neema
turned to check out who stood at the front of the
Standard Five girls’ line where Sifa was pointing.
“Make sure your line is not bent at any point.
Be a good example to the younger children,”
Teacher Nekesa told the Standard Five girls, smiling
beautifully at them.
Neema opened her mouth in awe. Teacher Nekesa
looked just like the ladies she often saw on TV.
Teacher Nekesa had joined Elimu Bora School at
the beginning of the second term, just five weeks
ago. And for each of those days, she had looked
better than she had the previous day.
She was not just beautiful, but also very friendly.
Neema felt proud to have the new teacher for a
friend. She would join Teacher Nekesa where she
loved to sit, outside the staffroom near the new
field.
3
Most of the bigger girls in Class Seven and Eight
also enjoyed Teacher Nekesa’s company, and liked
spending their break time combing her waist-long
hair. The bigger boys, though, seemed not to like her
4
short skirts and dresses. They were always making
bad jokes about her walking style, too.
“Move in a bit,” Teacher Nekesa was telling the
Standard Five girls who stood furthest from her.
The girls were happy to obey her. She nodded
in appreciation and made to move to where the
Standard Five boys were lined up.
Neema craned her neck from behind Sifa and
waved at the teacher. Teacher Nekesa noticed
Neema and a smile formed on her lips. She waved
back with a slight movement of the fingers on her
raised hand and moved away.
Neema felt her heart dance joyously. Being around
Teacher Nekesa always made her feel as happy as a
dog with two tails.
She believed this was going to be her best term
since she joined school. Added to the joy of having
Teacher Nekesa as a friend, it was the term drama
and music festivals were held at the district level.
She was an excellent actress and soloist and hoped
to participate and represent her school for the first
time ever.
The previous day, Teacher Nekesa had informed
Neema that she was going to be in charge of classes
Five and Six preparations for the festivals. This had
5
excited Neema because it meant more time with her
newfound friend and teacher, and of course special
treatment.
With such thoughts on what the new term would
bring, Neema found the early morning lessons
dragging on endlessly. Occasionally she found
herself daydreaming, unaware what was going on
in class. The bell finally rang for the eleven o’clock
break and Neema made a dash to where Teacher
Nekesa usually sat, outside the staffroom. The
older girls were not yet out of class, and for some
minutes, she had her role model all to herself.
“Hello talented one,” Teacher Nekesa greeted,
beaming brightly at her.
“I’m fine Madam Nekesa,” Neema responded,
looking away shyly. She felt overjoyed that the
teacher thought she was gifted.
Teacher Nekesa pulled a chair that was beside
her and beckoned Neema to sit on it.
“You know I am more than a teacher to you and
I will always tell you the truth?” she half told, half
asked Neema.
Neema nodded.
“I want us to bring home the prize for drama and
dance this term at the district level,” she went on,
6
holding Neema’s hand in hers.
Neema nodded, excited that teacher Nekesa
seemed particularly happy talking to her.
7
“We cannot win if we do not stand out. I want
you to be the leading girl in the play and the soloist
in our dance as well. I have noted you act and sing
very well.”
Neema felt like she had become a fairy and was
floating around in the air, receiving friendship from
everywhere. Her teacher’s words were music to her
ears. Her heart beat so loudly in her chest that
she feared she might fail to hear the rest of what
Teacher Nekesa was telling her.
“But we must prepare you for those roles. You
must look like a royal princess,” the teacher added.
There was a bit of silence. Teacher Nekesa looked
her in the face and continued, “You are beautiful,
Neema, and you fit the roles I want to give you. The
only problem is you are as black as coal.”
Neema thought she had heard Teacher Nekesa
wrong. The smile on her face froze as she sat back
in her chair in shock. She looked straight at Teacher
Nekesa.
“Look at me,” Teacher Nekesa continued,
motioning with her delicate hand from her face to
her feet. “I want you to look like this. I will help you
look like this.”
Neema stared at teacher Nekesa in disbelief.
8
She was very light skinned, and looked more like
a white lady. Neema thought Teacher Nekesa was
very beautiful, but she did not want to look like
her because she had not been born that way. Her
own skin was dark chocolate, and she had always
been told by her father that black was beautiful.
Her mother had added that she should always be
proud of who she was.
“I will give you something to apply on your skin,
and tablets to swallow daily,” Teacher Nekesa was
saying. “By the time we will be going for the music
festivals you will look like a European. We will
straighten your hair so that it will also look like that
of a white girl. The judges at the festival will think
you are the most beautiful girl they have ever seen
and give us the prize.”
Before the conversation could go any further, the
bigger girls arrived. Soon the Standard Seven and
Eight girls surrounded Teacher Nekesa and started
chatting with her. The teacher stole a glance at
Neema, lifted one of her fingers and put it across
her lips. Neema knew she meant she should not tell
anyone what she had just told her. Neema did not
care who knew what Teacher Nekesa had told her.
She was not ready to go through with it.
Slowly she slipped out of her seat and tiptoed
9
away.
She did not want to change how she looked,no!
She wanted to remain just as she was. A black plum
is as sweet as a white one, she thought to herself
as she made her way back to her classroom. Her
father had always told her that beauty was only
skin deep. Beauty was not all that made a person.
Neema felt unhappy as she arrived in her class.
What would happen when Teacher Nekesa realised
she was not going to agree to the plan to change
her skin colour? Would she stop being her friend?
10
2. No friends
A day of sorrow is longer than a month of joy.
This appeared to be the case as Neema sat in class
that mid-morning after the break time meeting
with Teacher Nekesa. The two lessons before lunch
were the longest she had ever attended.
A voice in her head kept scaring her, telling her
she would not represent her school at the drama
and music festivals. It did not seem possible that
Teacher Nekesa would let her in the team if she
refused to be turned into a white girl. That would
be so disappointing. She had waited the entire past
year to join Standard Five and qualify to participate
in the festivals.She had practised almost daily to
make her performance better. Everyone knew how
determined she was to be at the festivals. Not only
to represent her school, but also to win. All that
now hang in the balance.
When lunch time arrived, Neema sat quietly at
11
her desk as the rest of her classmates rushed out
to go have their mid-day meal. She did not want
anyone else to know she was so unhappy by finding
her crying alone in class. She took her lunch bag
and went in search of her friend, Sifa.
12
The warmth of the early afternoon sun somewhat
lifted her spirits. A flower blooms more than once,
she thought to herself and tried to smile. Even if she
missed the festivals this term, there would be other
opportunities when she joined the upper classes.
She now felt better. She hurried to where she
knew Sifa and their other friends would be.
When she finally found them, a surprise awaited
her. She had not been taking lunch with Sifa and
the other girls of her class since the beginning of
second term. Rather, she had been joining the big
girls, a class or two ahead of her, to be with the new
teacher over the lunch break.
Sifa and company had made some very unlikely
friends. Neema found them seated on the green
grass at the corner of the field where they had
always taken their lunch. Among them was Amin,
a Standard Seven boy and the worst bully at Elimu
Bora School. With him were two other notorious
pupils.
How could Sifa and the others have made friends
with this group?
Amin had always bullied the Standard Five girls,
and they were always quite scared of him and his
friends. He often stole their snacks at break time,
13
and at times even their lunch. To now see them
seated together and sharing was a shock to Neema.
Amin was the first to notice confusion on Neema’s
face. He made a thumbs-up sign to her.
“I’m different now,” he said, making space in the
circle they sat in and inviting Neema to join them.
Neema scowled at him. She knew that a leopard
does not change its spots even when it hides in tall
grass. He was still Amin the bully unless a miracle
had happened.
She moved away from where he was and went
to sit near Sifa. Amin smiled almost shyly and
offered her an orange. Neema looked at his food
and thought he ate like a king. There was a bit of
everything: sausage, fried egg, steamed vegetables
and a variety of fruit pieces. But she also knew he
bullied smaller children to give him goodies and
money. Most probably part of what was in his dish
had been grabbed from pupils of lower classes, or
bought with money stolen from them, including the
orange she was now being offered.
“No, thank you,” she said with a slight wave of
the hand.
Amin looked on somehow surprised. The orange was
the juicy type and he had expected Neema to jump at it.
14
To Neema’s surprise, Sifa took the orange from
Amin and begged her to take it.
“You will see he has changed,” Sifa said while
extending the orange to Neema.
Neema took it, pouting as she did so, and put it
15
in her bag. She got out her lunch box and started
on her meal. Just as she was about to finish eating,
she saw Amin stand up hurriedly and clap his hands
together.
“Time for some fun!” he declared.
Everyone in the group stood up excitedly. Neema
stood as well, wanting to know what the fun was
all about. Sifa and the other girls giggled helplessly,
making sounds as if trying to speak with the words
not coming out.
“Just come and see,” Sifa told Neema, pulling her
by the arm.
The gang headed for the Standard Five West
classroom led by Amin. When Neema entered the
class after the rest of her colleagues, she found
Amin standing in front of Baraka, a boy who was
physically challenged.
Baraka was somehow new, having joined the
school that term. He moved around in a wheelchair.
He talked with much difficulty and it took a lot of
getting used to him to understand what he said.
His movements were also awkward and he always
seemed to be straining.
Amin grabbed Baraka’s bag and took out a
banana and an orange. The whole group except
16
Neema laughed as Baraka looked on with wide
eyes, unable to do anything. One boy pretended to
talk and move in the difficult way he did, with the
rest clapping and making merry.
“Can I have this?” Amin asked in pretended
humbleness, holding out the orange and banana.
Baraka nodded miserably and swung on his
wheelchair in a bid to turn away from Amin and
his group. The bullies saw his despair and burst out
laughing, making fun of him.
Neema looked at Sifa. She could not believe how
excited her friend seemed to be at the really horrible
things Amin was doing. Neema tried to make faces
at her, but Sifa continued to laugh with the rest as
if she were watching a comedy.
Amin put the fruits he had taken from Baraka into
his bag and turned to leave. Then his eyes popped
out as he came face to face with the headteacher.
He had entered the class without the group noticing.
“Amin, what are you doing in Standard Five?” he
asked calmly.
Amin just looked at him, drops of sweat forming
on his forehead.
“Is everything all right here?” the headteacher
asked again.
17
He looked at Baraka with concern, as if he
suspected all was not well.
“We are okay Sir,” Sifa said in a low tone. “We
were checking if Baraka has had his lunch.”
18
“I do not want to see these big boys here!”
thundered the headteacher. “Everybody to their
classes, now!”
The group scuttled out of Baraka’s class and went
to their respective classes.
Neema went and sat at her desk, feeling concerned
about what she had just witnessed. This day was
proving a difficult one for her. First had been the
case with Teacher Nekesa, then this bullying of an
innocent boy. She was only lucky the headteacher
had not found out what had been done to Baraka.
The whole group would have been punished severely.
The afternoon lessons were even more miserable.
Neema could not concentrate. Her mind kept going
back to Baraka. She put herself in his shoes and felt
the pain of being bullied by Amin and the others.
It was obvious to her that Amin had not changed
at all and was still a bully. The only thing he had
changed was whom he bullied. That had only made
him worse. Bullying girls was bad enough, but
bullying a physically challenged boy like Baraka
was many times worse.
It shocked her that Sifa and the other girls did not
realise that they were bullying Baraka the same way
Amin had bullied them. Making fun of someone’s
19
physical challenges was cruel in the extreme.
When school ended that day, Neema sought out
Sifa. She wanted to have a discussion about what
had happened over lunch time.
“Why did you bully that poor boy?” she asked
Sifa. They were standing at one corner of Sifa’s
classroom. The other pupils were busy doing some
homework.
Sifa let out a loud laugh and tried to imitate
Baraka.
“It’s not bullying,” she corrected Neema, still
laughing excitedly. “It was just a bit of good-natured
fun. He is so funny!”
“But you made him so miserable,” Neema said.
“We just wanted to have a good laugh.” Sifa said,
mimicking Baraka’s speech once again and laughing.
“You not only hurt his feelings, but Amin took his
fruits as well,” Neema told Sifa pointedly.
Sifa clicked her tongue.
“You are such a wet blanket!” she thundered. “It
was just healthy teasing.”
“Is he your friend then? Have you made friends
with him?” Neema asked.
Sifa threw her hands in the air.
“How can we be friends with someone like that?”
20
she asked with a shrug of her shoulders.
“He is a fellow pupil of this school, remember?”
Neema said.
“He talks so funnily and is very clumsy,” Sifa said
and let out another round of laughter.
“Y ou ar e bec oming a bul l y, Sif a, just lik e Amin,”
21
Neema said. “You only make fun with a friend. If the
other person is not a friend and does not take part
in the fun, that is bullying.”
Sifa dropped her bag down, angrily.
“Are you calling me a bully?” she asked Neema as
she held her arms akimbo.
Neema stepped back from her. The other girls
in the class who were also Sifa’s friends started
moving towards the arguing pair. Sensing trouble,
Neema grabbed her bag and fled.
“Bully!” she shouted as she sat. Some of the
pupils laughed.
As she gathered her books into her school bag,
she thought about Baraka and what she had seen
him go through. Her desire to be his friend became
even stronger. She was going to be his friend, even
if it meant losing Sifa for a friend or being bullied by
Amin. True courage is in facing danger, even when
you are afraid, she thought.
She swang her bag onto her back and headed out
of class. The other pupils were leaving as well.
Then a thought came to her. Maybe she should
check on Baraka before leaving for home.
22
3. Best of friends
Neema did not find Baraka. His father always
picked him in his car and they had already left.
Disappointed, she left for home, telling herself that
she would see him on Monday.
She couldn’t wait to get home and tell her parents
what a terrible day she had.
The walk home was about two kilometres. It took
her twenty minutes.
She found her mother at her vegetable stall,
knitting as she waited for customers. Her mother
rose and hugged her as usual. But no sooner had she
embraced her than Neema started sobbing on her
shoulder. Her mother was surprised. She released
her gently and reached for some yoghurt. She filled
a tall glass and gave it to Neema.
“What is the matter?” she asked as Neema stopped
sobbing and settled down to take her yoghurt.
Neema let out what had been troubling her heart.
She told her mother what Teacher Nekesa had told
her, then how Sifa and her friends had joined Amin
23
in bullying Baraka.
Neema’s mother looked at her child and felt
really proud. It felt good to have a merciful child
who cared for those with challenges. She used her
handkerchief to wipe away some yoghurt from
Neema’s lips.
Do you feel better now?” she asked her.
Neema nodded.
“All is going to be alright,” her mother went on.
“Sifa and Amin are not going to hurt Baraka now
that you are there. Be his protector and report
anyone trying to hurt him to the headteacher. You
also need to talk to Sifa and get her out of her bad
behaviour.”
“Thanks Mum,” Neema said.
“I also trust Teacher Nekesa is going to change
her mind,” her mother added. “People may at times
behave in ways that hurt us, and sometimes we are
unhappy about what happens to us or others. But
everything always turns out as it should in the long
run.”
Neema felt comforted by her mother’s kind
words. A ton of worry lifted from her shoulders
as she skipped off to play with the neighbourhood
kids. There was no one quite like a mother and no
24
place like home, she thought to herself. She was in
high spirits and ready to face another day at school
when Monday morning came.
She got to class that Monday earlier than usual.
She smiled at Sifa to see if she was still mad at her.
Sifa and the other girls just stared at her. A little
disappointed, she placed her bag on her chair and
went out to look for Baraka.
She found him seated on his wheelchair at the
back of his class, reading a book.
“Hello Baraka,” she greeted, stretching out her
hand to him.
He seemed to be struggling to say something.
There was no effort to return her greetings.
“Gg..goo aaa...waay,” he finally said.
Neema felt sorry that he struggled so hard to
speak.
“I want to be your friend,” she said, putting on her
best smile.
“Yyyuu... waaa... wii... the meeaann bboois,”
Baraka stammered.
Neema could tell he was accusing her of being
part of the bad group that had bullied him on Friday.
“I didn’t know what they were coming here to do,”
she tried to defend herself.
25
Baraka looked away and continued reading.
“C an w e be friends, pl ease?” begged Neema.
“Nnnoo. Yyy oourr friiendsss ar e ba a a d,” Bar ak a
26
responded with difficulty.
“The boys are not my friends. Even the girls who
were my friends are not talking to me now,” Neema
went on.
Baraka seemed to relax a little. He reached into
his pocket and got a notebook and pen.
“Can I write here instead of talking?” he wrote on
a fresh page on the notebook.
Neema nodded and got closer.
“The mean boys always steal my fruits,” Baraka
wrote. “Why aren’t your friends talking to you?”
“Because I told them it was wrong to bully you,”
Neema replied.
“Will they stop?” Baraka wrote, looking excitedly
at Neema.
“I don’t think they will unless we do something,”
Neema said. “Did you have friends in your old
school?” she added, trying to change the topic.
“I had good friends who loved me very much,” he
wrote. “We used to play a lot of games together.”
Neema nodded, feeling sorry that he had got
such a cold welcome at her school.
“We would play wheelchair basketball,” Baraka
wrote.
Neema nodded again.
27
“There are some nice kids here too who will be
friends with you,” she said in an encouraging tone.
“Thanks. Sometimes I even think of transferring
to another school but my father encourages me to
stay,” Baraka wrote.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to get you
in a wheelchair?” Neema asked.
“My mother told me that the nurse who attended
her when I was born said I did not cry after birth.
My brain did not get enough oxygen. I have cerebral
palsy,” Baraka wrote.
“Does it get better with time?” Neema asked.
“No. But it does not get worse, either.” Baraka
wrote. “I’m used to being like this now. I have learnt
to do a lot of things even with cerebral palsy.”
Neema smiled happily at Baraka, glad that at
least the symptoms he suffered would not get worse.
She had so much she wanted to talk to him about,
but the bell for assembly rang. In a few minutes
they were required to be at the assembly ground.
“I will be back at break time,” she told Baraka.
“We will have to figure out a way to stop Amin and
the others from bullying you...and me as well.”
Baraka gave her the thumbs up sign and continued
writing in his notebook.
28
“Promise me you’ll remember you are braver than
you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than
you think,” he wrote.
“Wow. Thank you, Baraka. I promise you,”
exclaimed Neema. “Your handwriting is very
beautiful, by the way.”
Baraka smiled happily.
“And you write so fast,” she went on as she pushed
his wheelchair out of the classroom towards the
assembly ground.
The other pupils watched Neema as if she was
performing some magic act. Baraka used to struggle
with the wheelchair. It was the first time anyone
was helping him.
Neema smiled at them as she and Baraka headed
in the direction of the assembly ground.
29
4. Escape from the bully
Baraka was in Neema’s mind during the first two
lessons that Monday. He was a charming boy who
would be friendlier if treated well. She would have
to figure out a way of keeping the bullies away from
him and her.
When she saw Baraka again at break time she had
an idea.
“I love dancing and acting,” she told him. “Let’s go
to the music room over lunch time. We can hide there
and play with the music instruments if we are al-
lowed. The bad kids won’t know where we are and so
they won’t be able to bully us.”
Baraka smiled broadly at her. He seemed to like
the idea.
“I play guitar and piano,” he wrote in his notebook.
Neema looked at him wide-eyed.
“Will you teach me?” she asked excitedly.
“I will teach you everything I know,” he wrote, and
a smile came to his face.
Neema went back to her class feeling on top of the
30
world. Even if she didn’t make it to the music and
drama festivals that year, she was going to develop
her talent. Learning to play music instruments would
prepare her for a time when she would be able to
participate in the festivals.
At lunch time she hurried out of class, avoiding Sifa
and the other girls as she headed to Baraka’s class
to pick him. Moments later the girls saw her wheel-
ing Baraka out of his class.
Sifa bit her lip at Neema, but Neema avoided look-
ing at her. She knew her former friend still wanted
to fight her. She also remembered what Baraka had
asked her to promise him that morning. I am very
brave to stand against bullying of an innocent boy,
she encouraged herself.
Finally the two of them got to the music hall.
Baraka ate his lunch hurriedly, feeding himself better
than Neema had expected him to.
“That organ is calling me to go and play a song or
two,” he wrote in his notebook once he was through
with his lunch.
Neema looked at the organ sitting lonely at a cor-
ner in the room.
“Does it talk?” asked Neema.
“Can’t you hear its cries for some attention?”
Baraka wrote again, smiling happily. He washed and
31
wiped his hands, moved to where the organ was and
started playing.
Neema almost chok ed on her f ood as the music
r ea ched her ear s. Bar ak a pl a y ed the or gan so w el l.
32
She had not heard anyone play it better.
Baraka played for some time as Neema listened
very attentively. He then stopped playing and looked
around, satisfied with his performance.
Neema clapped in excitement.
“That was Fur Elise, by Beethoven,” Baraka wrote.
“Remember Beethoven was the most famous pianist
the world has produced.”
“Do you have another song you can play?” Neema
asked excitedly.
“I’ll play you one we wrote with the music group in
the other school,” Baraka wrote then started strum-
ming the organ again. The song was equally beauti-
ful, and Neema almost shouted with joy.
“Come sit here. I will show you how to play it,”
Baraka wrote when he finished.
Neema got closer. Baraka turned out to be a very
good teacher. In fourty minutes she could play the
song. She played it many times, every time getting a
thrill that she was now able to play the organ.
After playing the song several times, Baraka
asked if they could leave. Neema got hold of the
wheelchair to push him back to his classroom. She
was turning it round to face the door when she
saw his expression change suddenly, as if he had
seen something that had startled him. She turned
33
to look, in time to see Sifa and their other friends
peering at them from the door.
34
5. Friends again
“You never told me you can play the organ so
well!” Sifa told Neema from where she stood at the
hall’s door.
Sifa sounded strangely calm, not like on Friday
when she had picked a quarrel. Neema was surprised
that she was talking to her, and had not come to fight
her.
“Baraka has just shown me how,” Neema responded.
“And guess what, he and other kids at his former school
composed it!”
“Can we come in?” Sifa and the other girls asked
almost in unison.
“Sh...sh..shuur..” Baraka responded before Neema
could say anything.
This time the girls did not laugh at him. They
walked in and surrounded Neema and Baraka.
“Aaa plaaay,” Baraka told the girls. He seemed
excited that they had come like friends. They
nodded, seeming to understand him.
He played another Beethoven number. As the
35
sweet music filled the hall, the girls looked at one
another in disbelief. They had never expected that
someone who struggled with speech and movement
could do anything so well.
“I also play the guitar,” Baraka wrote in his notebook.
“Can you teach us to play?” Sifa asked after
Neema had shown her the message.
“How much will you pay me?” Baraka wrote and
drew a smiling face.
The girls laughed happily.
“Surely we will find a way to show our appreciation,”
one of the girls said.
Sifa stepped out and touched Baraka’s hand.
Baraka looked at her somehow confused.
“I’m sorry that I and my friends got into bad company
and enjoyed bullying you,” she apologised.
All the other girls nodded.
“We didn’t realise our mistake then,” they told
him in turns.
“Apologies accepted,” Baraka wrote in his note
book.
Just then, Amin and his three friends walked into
the hall.
“Heey, you found them! No one escapes the great Amin,”
the bully bragged as he and his friends approached the
others.
36
There was no cheering, no clapping, no making of
faces. Instead, a silence fell on the hall. You could
have heard a pin drop as the girls and Baraka stared
at Amin as if he were a ghost.
“A bad penny always shows up,” Baraka wrote in
his notebook as they watched the four approach.
At Elimu Bora School, taking a stand against Amin
was as feared as dancing with death. But Neema
remembered her resolve and knew she just had to
do it, afraid or not.
“You are not our friend anymore,” she now told
the bully, standing in front of him so that their eyes
met. The others with him were quite confused and
seemed ready to run away.
Amin moved to stand behind Neema. She did not
turn to face him, as she wanted to hold her ground.
Amin took advantage of her not turning around and
aimed a blow at her back. Unknown to him, Baraka
had been watching his moves. Just in the nick of
time he reached out to Neema and pulled her away
before the blow landed. Carried by the force of the
attempted blow, Amin fell forward and crashed
onto the floor, so hard that the girls thought he was
badly hurt. He let out a cry.
“What are we doing here?” a voice asked from the
door.
37
It was the headteacher. The whole group turned
to face him.
Amin sc amper ed t o his f eet, but it w as t oo l at e
t o hid e fr om the hea dt ea cher that something w as
38
amiss.
“Amin fell,” one of the girls stammered.
The headteacher was not convinced.
“Can I have the truth, girls!” he bellowed.
Neema stepped forward. It had just occurred to
her that Amin bullied the younger children because
they all feared him and never thought of report-
ing him. She told the headteacher everything about
how Amin used to bully them and how he was now
bullying Baraka. She also told him why she and
Baraka had come to the music hall, and how the
others had found them.
Amin stood helplessly as Neema talked, staring
at the floor to avoid the gaze of the headteacher.
Neema looked at him and was surprised that he was
so scared. When she was through with explaining,
the headteacher looked around at the other girls.
“Is this true, girls?” he asked the others.
Sifa was the first one to answer.
“Yes,” she said. Neema was surprised that even
Sifa was not happy with Amin.
The headteacher looked angrily at Amin and held
him by the collar.
“Young man, you have a lot of explaining to do!”
he said as he shoved the bully outside the hall. “Go
and wait for me outside my office!”
39
His friends were sent after him. The headteacher
was left with the girls and Baraka.
“Girls, I hope you have learnt your lessons. Better
be alone than in bad company. I hope you have also
learnt that it is only with the heart that one can see
rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye. You
didn’t think much of Baraka here because you saw
him with just your eyes. Now you see how wrong you
were. He may be different, but he also has gifts and
desires to have friends just like you,” the headteacher
said.
The girls were as quiet as mice as they listened to
the headteacher.
“I will have a word with Teacher Nekesa and have
her include Baraka in the school team to the Music
and Drama Festivals,” he went on.
Everyone clapped, but the headteacher noticed
Neema was not as excited as the others.
“Anything else you want to tell me, Neema?” he
asked her.
Yet again, Neema was glad to tell the headteacher
about her troubles. She told him what teacher Nekesa
had told her about her skin colour and what she needed
to do to win the first prize for her school at the music
and drama festivals.
“I do not want to go with madam Nekesa’s plans,”
40
she told the headteacher.
The headteacher smiled at her and put his hands
on her shoulders.
“You are fearfully and wonderfully made, girls.
Let me not hear any one of you say you are not
beautiful. Black is beautiful, very beautiful,” he told
Neema and the girls, looking from one to the other.
“I will talk to Teacher Nekesa and find out what is
going on,” he added. “Just as we should love others
as they are, we should also love ourselves without
trying to change how we were created.”
Neema felt a happy smile spread across her face.
All’s well that ends well, she thought to herself.
She knew everything would be alright just as her
mother had told her. She would most likely also be
at the music and drama festivals. And what could
be better than that, having Baraka there as well?
The headteacher started talking again.
“Always think good thoughts, girls. Don’t worry
yourselves unduly about how you look on the outside.
Think about what’s inside your hearts because that is
what matters.”
The girls all nodded.
“Hurry off to class now,” the headteacher went
on. “You are already late for the first lesson. And
don’t leave Baraka behind.”
41
Sifa offered to push Baraka’s wheelchair. The
group left the music hall, followed by the head-
teacher.
42
6. The perfect pair
Neema never saw Teacher Nekesa again at Elimu
Bora School. Rumours going round claimed that she
had been sacked by the government for bleaching
herself to look like a European, and for being a bad
influence on school children.
Neema did not pay much attention to what the
children were saying. She spent most of her free time
with Baraka in the music room, practising songs to
present at the music and drama festivals. The two
were a perfect pair and whenever Neema sang and
Baraka played the organ, the music would sound
heavenly. Her other schoolmates would crowd
around the door and windows to the hall just to
hear them play.
The new teacher in charge of the festivals helped
Neema improve her singing. Mrs Wanyama was
much older than Teacher Nekesa but she loved music
and acting. Neema practiced almost every day and
did everything the new teacher told her to do. Her
singing improved a great deal.
43
Baraka turned out to be a very accomplished
guitarist and organ player and did not need much
improvement.
“Since I can’t help out much at home, my parents bought
me some music instruments and got me a music teacher,” he
once wrote for Neema in his notebook to explain his superior
music skills.
He also turned out to be very outgoing, and became
much loved by the rest of his classmates. Soon he was
the most popular pupil in Standard Five. He played
chess and other games so well that everyone begged
to be taught how to play as well as he did.
Other pupils who were going to present pieces
at the music festivals practised a lot as well, but
not as hard as Baraka and Neema. As the day of
reckoning approached, Neema and Baraka felt more
and more confident that they would carry home the
district trophy.
Amin stopped showing up in the lower classes.
He would often be seen sitting all by himself looking
very unhappy. His friends had been punished by the
headteacher for supporting him, and warned against
keeping bad company. Many pupils thanked Neema
and Baraka for standing up to the school’s worst
bully.
The night before the festivals at the district level,
44
Neema had a dream. She saw herself and Baraka
doing so well that they brought First Prize trophies
for all the three music pieces they were competing
in to Elimu Bora School.
The festivals were being held at the town
headquarters, about fifty kilometres away. On the
morning of the competition the whole school team
joined the rest of the school for prayers. They then
boarded a hired bus to be taken to the competition
venue.
That evening, as they returned to school after the
competition, Neema was overjoyed.
“It was just like in my dream,” she told Baraka
over and over.
Baraka seemed too excited to say much. He
seemed to find it unbelievable that their pieces had
been so well received. The entire hall had stood up
to cheer him when he got onto the stage for their
third piece.
“We will win the best performance trophy even at
the county level,” Mrs Wanyama had told them after
they received the third trophy for the best performance.
Baraka had written in his notebook that he hoped
they could make it to the national level and perform
for the President. The teacher had promised to be
with them all the way.
45
When the bus carrying Elimu Bora pupils from the
festivals arrived at the school, the parking lot was
crowded with those who had been left behind.
“What could be happening here?” Neema asked
Baraka, who sat next to her.
“They have probably already been told that we
won three first prizes,” Baraka wrote in his notebook,
smiling proudly.
Neema grinned sheepishly. Other pupils from the
school had won first and second prizes in the past, but
none had taken top prize in all their performances. There
was a huge improvement on the school’s performance.
She felt nice that she and Baraka had made this
possible.
When the school bus ground to a halt, the pupils at
the parking lot surrounded it. They were dancing and
singing victory songs. It was late but they had waited
in the cold for this moment. They carried Neema and
Baraka shoulder high all the way to the music hall,
praising them for their excellent performance.
The head teacher and the staff were waiting in
the hall. A beautiful cake was on the table in front
of the teachers.
When the headteacher finally calmed the pupils, he
praised the winners for their commitment to learning
new skills and practising to the point of becoming the
46
best in the district in all their pieces.
He thank ed Mr s W any ama as w el l f or her patienc e
in tr aining the c ompetit or s. He then invit ed Bar ak a
47
and Neema to cut the cake. It had been ordered from
the nearby town when news reached the school that
they had won first prize in all three performances.
The cake was shared amongst all those who had
gone for the festivals, and then distributed to the
rest of the school.
“I feel worn out now. Tomorrow we start planning
for our next competition at the county level,” Baraka
wrote to Neema as they ate their pieces of cake.
“Me too, I could rest a bit now,” Neema said with a
nod. “There will be no resting until we have bagged
the prizes at the county level.”
The second term had turned out to be as eventful
and exciting as Neema had foreseen. She had thought
then that teacher Nekesa was going to be a big part
of her joy. As it had turned out, it was the most
unlikely newcomer at her school that had changed
her life. She would forever be grateful to Baraka.
The End
48
Vocabulary
awkward not as expected or normal
beckon make a hand signal to invite someone
essential important
foresee be able to tell what will happen in the
future
heavenly so good
invisible cannot be seen
queue straight line
scuttled ran away hurriedly
unduly unnecessarily
unison at the same time
49
Sayings
a black plum is as sweet as a white one: a simile
within a saying meaning ‘people
should appreciate the way they are’
a day of sorrow is longer than a month of joy: A
saying that reminds us that sorrow
affects us more than joy.
a flower blooms more than once: a saying that
reminds us that there are always
opportunities even if you missed on
something in the present
a leopard does not change its spots: a saying that
warns us that people remain who they
are even when they pretend not to be.
all is well that ends well: a saying that reminds us
that good things end up well.
as feared as dancing with death: a simile meaning,
‘it was dangerous’.
as happy as a dog with two tails: simile meaning
‘very happy’.
50
Questions
1. What made Teacher Nekesa popular with the
girls of Elimu Bora School?
2. Why was Neema not happy with what teacher
Nekesa wanted her to do?
3. What had Neema’s parents taught her about
beauty?
4. Why did Amin pick on Baraka for bullying?
5. Why did Sifa think Baraka funny?
6. At what point did Sifa change her opinion of
Baraka?
7. What talents did Baraka possess that the other
pupils did not know?
8. In how many categories did Neema and Baraka
participate in during the Drama and Music
festivals? How did they perform?
9. What made Neema and Baraka to perform well?
10. How do you think Neema and Baraka performed
at the County level of the Drama and Music
Festivals? Why?