Obedience pays

Every kid in my neighborhood waited for it with anticipation. It show cased in our neighborhood every 17th day of the month.

The following day, kids told and retold tales of the event with great excitement of what had transpired the previous night and anyone who was not there watched from the sidelines.

During this time, I felt terribly left out as my parents had restricted me from attending such events saying they were risky. The event was a film, which we fondly referred to as ‘cinema ya kitambaa ‘which show case in my neighborhood for free. Well, l could not see anything wrong with it or the kids who  attended the free movie.

In fact, it seemed to make their lives more lively. l felt that my parents restrained me from living life fully. So, I made a vow to myself that l would not miss the next one.

The next one was on a Saturday and l thought of the perfect excuse I could tell my parents. Sunday school practice gladly, my parents granted me permission and l was out of the door before they even inquired when I’ll be back.

Usually, the screening was put out in an open field behind some factory, l waited and waited, and it was not until darkness set in and the film crew started setting up the stage.

By now, my teeth rattled as cold chill bit at my bear arms and legs.

I had thought dry the time it was getting dark, l would be back now and my parent s would not know where I was.  However, l would not let my friends know. l was afraid of getting home late so l, pretended to be excited too.

Hi! Children keen chine,’’ said a voice from the speaker.

All  seemed well when the white cloth swayed in the wind and the film crackled to life. As soon as the film started, a scary animal   roared on the screen roaring loudly, and l cringed. Several kids seating next to me started screaming, it must have been their first time too.

Loud grumbling followed from the back,’’ WATOTO WAENDE NYUMBANI’’ an angry man shouted from the back.

Moments later, l heard a something whizz by my ear followed by a spotting sound and a certain strong smell of something rotten. Before l could figure out where the ‘missile’ had come from, several landed on my back.

They were rotten eggs, AMINI stamped following as we scampered for safety, into the darkness, falling in ditches l arrived home, hurt, with one shoe and stinking body.

My parents punished me heavily, I was beaten up thoroughly for lying and staying out late.

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