YEP! Its back to school alright! Every change they get every other advert on the tele seems to take a moment to remind everyone as if the world has suddenly undergone a major brain surgery . And needed a recount of events as they happened before the tumor was extracted, incase of amnesia.
This just traps me in a splenic web of times past and gone when I was in primary level and loosing a bottle cap or worse a shoe lace were felonies of the worst kind!
How I always prograstinated polishing my shoes right after school,forgot and remembered in the morning when I have to put them on. Or the homework I only just thought of when it was time to submit for marking and attempted to do it in a rush right under her nose hoping I would get away with it.
Though part of the words that tell a tale now, these accounts were the jeepers creepers of my time for the whipping and scaulding that followed.
Like a chicken ,as the saying goes in my town, I forgot soon afterwards hence my predicament day in and day out. Truth be told though, it was not always all bad.I promise you, there were intoxicating swivete moments.
My friends and I, we would follow boys around depending on the pick of the day/month or week like love lorne puppies.
It did pay off because one of them turned out to be the Adam to me- EVe, ssh.
In particular, deep rooted is an event that took place in the school yard during break or recess. A game we were immensed in, required individuals to name different preferences and distastes one had within any category called out by the lead singer in the chorus chanted.
The lyrics went something like: “any thing, oh lucky mandela,oh cars names, oh boys names… ke ea mothanda bantu!” In a speck of seconds in the boys category I had disclosed the name of the boy I had a major crush on only to find him close by.
Not just lurking close innocently but had actually heard my outbust and I turned purple and searched high and low for even just an aperture to dive into for cover.