School Memories: Eat frogs or starve

It all started with a hysterical scream. Apparently, someone had found a frog's limb in her food. We were outraged. How could they feed us frogs for lunch? And if they were feeding us frogs for lunch, what were we having for dinner...the geckos that we often saw crawling on the walls of the dining hall?

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

It all started with a hysterical scream. Apparently, someone had found a frog’s limb in her food. We were outraged. How could they feed us frogs for lunch? And if they were feeding us frogs for lunch, what were we having for dinner...the geckos that we often saw crawling on the walls of the dining hall? We poured all our food on the dining hall floor, threw the dishes in the air and started banging our plates with our forks.

In the past, whenever similar incidents occurred, a bell was rung, students gathered in main hall, administrators offered their most sincere apologies, a cow was slaughtered and order was restored. We were therefore shocked when we banged our plates for an hour and didn’t hear the sound of the bell. We gathered in the main hall and started chanting "frogs in our food!” but still, they ignored us.

By dusk, we had so grown desperate for attention that we ran around breaking classroom windows, throwing out furniture and writing gibberish on the blackboards. This didn’t last long because as soon as we heard the sound of sirens and gunshots, we dispersed.

But we couldn’t leave the school premises because you see, the missionaries were a smart bunch; they foresaw the need to keep girls in school and out of trouble and so they built the school on a hill and in isolation. Beyond the classrooms were the dormitories. Beyond the dormitories was the school farm. Beyond the school farm was a swamp and beyond the swamp was a small village. The only way out was the school gate and it was blocked by the police.

We avoided the classrooms and dormitories because we were afraid of being detained. Our only safe harbour was the school farm but the smell of animal excrement could hardly provide warmth in the biting cold. A few of our comrades surrendered. The rest of us drew close and sang war songs.

In the morning, when the bell for breakfast was rung, our stomachs rumbled. But we decided that our pride was more important than hunger. By lunch time, many of us were so hungry that we agreed that a frog in the food was better than no food.