It is always a refreshing thought thinking that your soulmate is out there living an average life without you. If they knew that the person they are cuddled up with right now is not who they are meant to be with, would that change anything? Would they fight harder or less to keep that relationship going? The thing is that scientists tell us that most people met their soulmates before their twenty first birthday. I would like someone to come, hold me by the hand and lead me to this person because I’m pretty sure I haven’t met mine yet. I can’t have.
Today on the #30dayblogchallenge we are supposed to speak about our OTP’s which stands for One True Pairing. When I hear this, my mind straight up goes to Hollywood or to a certain TV show. And instead of telling you that I feel that Rizzoli and Isles should have been together or that Damon and Elena should have remained together I will delve to more important issues; My none existent love life.
I am one oblivious mass of human cells. You can hit on me for eternity but as long as you don’t spell it out I will be none the wiser. I don’t know, I think it is because I am used to people being good to me because I am usually good to them. Yes, that is how the universe works. So I miss all these signs.
This is a story of a time where no hitting on was involved and I know this for a fact. But hitting, by a stick, was involved. I was in class seven. Making sure that every exam I took I failed more than the previous one. Hahaha just kidding, I don’t know what happened but I just wasn’t smart any more. I was the class prefect though. In our school the class monitors had the job to replace filled up books with new ones when someone needed them. Us prefects we were supposed to fill in or help out when we could.
So this sunny afternoon, I come to class and ask who has a filled up book I go replace before the next class begins. I was given several books and made my way to the book ofice. I went replaced and made a tiny incision on every filled up book before returning to class. This was a requirement to make sure that you do not replace the same book twice. Sometimes people forgot, or prefects and monitors ‘forgot’ to cut theirs so they could have revision books.
A few days later the English teacher comes in and calls this boy and tells him that he found his book in the staffroom. He asked the boy what he had been writing on and the boy said I replaced a book for him. This became a whole new thing because we weren’t supposed to replace books that are not filled up or that are not submitted in. The teacher asked what book I took in for replacement and I asked the boy to show it. It was not his English writing book but as long as you gave in a filled ruled book, you got a new ruled book back. When it was given to me it did not have any incision so I thought it had not been replaced before.
The teacher made me and the boy stand infront of the class and she ordered for a stick. All this time the lesson still hasn’t began. She then (this is what I have from memory) let him stand there as she beat me with a stick for minutes! She was not striking hard but she stroke the same place every time and after a few strokes of the cane the place started getting sore. It is better to be given three strong whips of a cane than 30 tiny ones.
This was making me angry at the time. I have never liked pain, it does not make me sad, it makes me mad. Now I am mad and the teacher is making me angrier by saying, “Hii urafiki ya kuchukuliana vitabu hamtafany kwa class yangu.” (This friendship of replacing unfilled books won’t be tolerated in my class). She stated that she was beating me because I chose to be outsmarted and I had to suffer for it. When I couldn’t stand the pain anymore, I started rubbing my backside (yes, there was no exception everyone had their butt beat when they did wrong) and apologized so she let me go.
I thought this was done. We come in after the holidays for another school term and I am in the line waiting to be served porridge. At the corner of my eye I see this teacher and she shouts, “Rachael, ako wapi ule rafiki wako wa Mombasa?” (Where’s your friend from Mombasa?) I looked at her and gave a very awkward smile. I did not know what to do and I had not even noticed the boy isn’t back because it does not concern me. People on the line started questioning, who is this friend she is talking about and why I was in Mombasa. People assumed that the teacher saw me in Mombasa living my best life. Only people in my class knew what she was speaking of.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is why if I were to write about a real life OTP I would have failed you. But at least now you know my lack of boyfriends did not start yesterday. It is a pre-existing condition that won’t be covered under insurance. I had not thought of this boy at all until we held a class reunion two months ago, he didn’t show up but the people present made this memory come to life.
As always, share and comment your most awkward primary school memory.