Mrs. Kones

Having successfully completed my Kenya Certificate of Primary Education (KCPE) exams, I was called to an admirable school. This was St. Patrick’s. The school’s motto was, “Discipline molds all”. I didn’t pay any attention to that motto since I knew I was a very disciplined and obedient boy. The school was famous for excellent performance and I had high hopes of excelling in the Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) exams.  

I arrived at the school a month later, when my admission was about to be cancelled. My father drove me to school that day. The school grounds were vast. The buildings were ancient but still stood the test of time. Some of the buildings looked haunted. There was a basketball court, tennis court, gym and expansive football pitch. All students were in uniform regardless of the tasks they undertook. Students playing games had to be in their official game kits. Spic and span were the grounds that boasted well-manicured loans whose landscaping was done by students that broke the numerous school rules.

I made it a routine to arrive at school early and just abide by all the rules and regulations of the school. I always did the right thing at the right time; but this didn’t change the discipline master’s opinion on boys. All of them were crooks even if they looked harmless.

Mrs. Kones, the discipline master was a huge middle-aged woman. She always wore a green skirt, white blouse and red socks. She filled her apparel with medals and medallions. She looked more of a girl scout to me. She carried a long cane made of strong camel skin all the time, constantly hitting it against her other hand. She had grey teeth and her eyes were vicious to look at. She was well built and was Shaquille O’Neal’s exact size and weight. She had a man’s voice and what she said was final. She was a perfectionist and didn’t leave any room for mistakes. “Spare the rod, spoil the boy” she would say. The funny thing though was that she seldom used her cane. She mainly used her bare hands.

Mrs. Kones had surveillance cameras all around the school. She also placed speakers, such that all conversations would be audible to her. She was feared by everyone including the principal and she didn’t have any friends. She only had a cat that she hugged and kissed all day long. Once she slapped a teacher for mentioning her name without cause. Another incident was that she threw a boy through a window situated on the fifth floor. The boy almost lost his life but no charges were filed against her. She was invincible and was answerable to absolutely no one! This made all the students tremble at the mere sight of her. 

Bad or evil cases of ‘crime’ as she called them were severely punishable. The most outrageous punishment she gave was to throw the offenders into a very small room that measured sixty cubic centimetres. There was a small hole for ventilation and depending on your wrongdoing; she blocked it once after every five minutes, such that you would suffocate.

I feared Mrs. Kones more than I feared snakes. After being a good boy for two consecutive years, I got into trouble. That day, I really thought that my world had ended. One of my classmates Kanana played a practical joke on me. I had bragged about finishing my English homework and so he snatched my book and threw it into a pit latrine. I was rather hot-tempered so I stood up and charged at him, gave him a few punches in his stomach and left the classroom.

What I hadn’t known, was that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Kanana was Mrs. Kones’ nephew! He naturally reported me to her. That was the first time I had seen her run. She came stamping her feet hard on the ground. It almost seemed as if an elephant was in the hallway. She looked like a monster to me. She had veins all over her face and her eyes were flaming red. She came so close to my face that I could hear her breathing. She then bluntly asked me, “So Manoti, did you or did you not beat Kanana?” I was speechless.

She unceremoniously grabbed me by my neck and put me on her shoulders. She then carried me all the way to her office. I knew that I was doomed. She asked me to have a seat and told me to wait a minute. She was going to get a table where I would rest my hands as she beat me. I knew the drill. I stood and turned around. No sooner had she raised her hand to hit me than I began speaking. I don’t quite remember what I said but she suddenly stopped. She put her rod down.

I asked her several questions related to my mistake. I then permitted her to do whatever she pleased if I was truly on the wrong. To my surprise, she sat down. She told me that she had never seen anyone so brave. I was little but I spoke like a magistrate. She forgave me and turned on a new leaf. She stopped caning; stopped harassing the boys and minimized her punishments. From then on, we became good friends. I was named the school hero. Kanana came to apologize. We shook hands and became friends again.