The Crackdown

At Sondu High School, the school nurse was growing fatigued and bored. For the last three weeks, she had had to endure the awful smell from the pathetically wounded feet of the students. She had had no time to rest as student after student streamed in at least for some bit of her medical attention.

On the waiting bench outside, the looks on the faces of those boys told the story. Needless to say, they were going through a tough time. The boys had tried their best to be men enough but for how long would that be? The tears would flow down their faces in a drop-wise manner reminding you of those droppers in the laboratories. Their feet looked as though they had been soaked in some acidic medium overnight.

It was during the El-Nino rains of 1997 and flooding was the hue and consistency of virtually every part of the nation and the schools were not exceptions. As a result the shoes of students could not last long and most of them had succumbed to the tearing El-Nino forces faster than to the normal wear and tear. Few students at this time had their shoes in good wearing condition. Most of the shoes had spaces to welcome waters falling from above and also entertained waters that came through the backdoor; that is the waters that came through a condition that I call the Shoe Leaking syndrome.

And the feet of most of the students were in a terrible state especially because in a school they were meant to be in shoes for the better part of their life. Yet this did not matter to the school nurse now. She needed some space. Some fresh air. She needed some time to sit and think of herself and carry on her life as she desired. So she was gathering her courage to go to the principal’s office to demand some reinforcement.
After thinking it over and over, she decided to take the courage since this seemed to her the most decisive act any human being in her shoes would take. She did not even remember that in an office of that status, knocking precedes entry. And even before Mr. Githinji the principal could protest at her most intrusive, most unexpected entry, she was already up in arms.
“Mr. Principal, I came to tell you that things are getting out of hand and….!”
“And what? Getting out of hand to where? Why don’t you just hold them tight in hand?” the principal interrupted trying the humor he has always employed in crisis management. But this time his sense of humor was out of place and unwanted. Before him stood an iron lady who had had enough.
And the nurse went on, “and I will not continue slaving in the hands of people who do not seem to put themselves in my shoes!”
“And what is it about Miss Kimani? Come on take it easy.” The principal now cooled down and asked with a look of concern on his face. So the nurse carried on, “ Mr. Principal, are you aware that soon all the boys in this school will be under medication?” the nurse was now looking at the principal cautiously with a half smile and half worry on her pretty face.
“ Reason being?” asked the Principal, moving round his seat and holding his spectacles as if to say that such things do not happen; not when Mr. Githinji is in control. And the nurse continued, “well, Mr. Githinji Sir, over the last three weeks I have treated two hundred cases of athletes feet which is a pretty third of the school.”
And the principal interrupted, now standing and placing his huge spectacles on the table and dipping his hands in the pockets of his brown checked blazer, “You mean two hundred boys treated once? And not twenty boys treated ten times ?”
Correct Mr. Principal” answered the nurse.
“And you still have enough medicine in that dispensary?” the principal was now actually concerned that soon the school dispensary would need some funding, the last thing he would have thought about.
“Well, Mr. Principal we are soon running out of medicine. But that’s not the point!” the nurse replied as the principal supported his head with his hands as though it was about to run off. And the nurse continued gathering all the necessary courage enough to thrust her next statement, “if your office does not do something to save this situation, I will resign! I need reinforcement!”
So now the nurse stood there watching the principal who was inhaling the words and trying to make some sense therein. He was known to respond as soon as there was something worthy of response. The nurse was in her white clinical garments and when the principal looked at her and saw her cute hairstyle, her pretty face and those lips painted pink coupled with her perfect body conformation. When he imagined how nice she looks walking on those school pavements. When he contemplated how the boys would respond at the loss of such a beautiful and compassionate nurse. It was time to be smart. In other words the nurse was an asset the school could not afford to lose. Not under the circumstances.
So the principal composed himself and faced the nurse, “Well Miss Kimani. I see what you are going through. I am sorry for that. If I had heard of it before I would definitely have done something. But please, I beg you to continue working as I look at the situation.”
“And then?” the nurse asked showing some measure of doubt in the way the principal was handling the situation. The principal replied, “I will get back to you as soon as possible”. So the nurse returned to the dispensary to attend to the students.
The principal thought hard. Eventually he had to act. He did not even see the need to respect the school program any more. Or what sense was there to continue teaching boys who were in pain? He called an urgent staff meeting. The teachers wondered what the meeting was about and why the meeting had no notice as should be the case. May be our employer has an important circular. They thought.
The principal started the meeting without a greeting, without a prayer or even a word of introduction.
“We cannot continue teaching when the boys are suffering. Are you aware that athletes’ feet are affecting almost every student in this school?”
The Deputy Principal Mr. Wanjau was the first to answer. “So, Mr. Principal. Ok. We get the point. But I hope you are not suggesting that we close down the school.”
“What do you suggest yourself?” asked the principal, looking restless and desperate. He needed a solution yesterday. And then Mr. Wanjau continued calmly, “I hope you are aware that El-Nino is in the whole country including their homes and there is no way they will run away from it.”
There was a heated discussion as the teachers sought a solution. And one teacher who observed as her colleagues argued thought she had a solution that would work. So she raised her hand.
Well Mrs. Kiogora, so you think you have something to tell us? Go ahead. We are listening.” The principal said. And the room was quiet to hear from this lady who talked only when she had to.
“My dear colleagues, I realize that this menace has not affected all the boys. It has not hit any teacher yet…” Go on! They said.
“I think this has to do with the shoes those boys put on. They are terrible. Actually some of those are not shoes but examples of shoes if not illusions of shoes.”
Now the teachers were getting some hope of getting a solution to the situation at the feet of the boys.
And the Deputy Principal said, “We have to stop the boys from wearing worn out shoes as much as possible.”
“And tell them to put on what?” another teacher asked.
“Don’t you think their feet are safer shoeless than with those examples of shoes?” asked Mr. Wanjau.
So the teachers continued to debate the issue and after a lengthy debate, Mr. Kamanja the discipline master called for order. “Excuse me ladies and gentlemen; I have a solution.”
“We are listening!” said the principal looking so keen his head would crack.
“We shall have a crackdown.” Said Mr. Kamanja smiling and swinging his body sideways.
“A crackdown on what?”, sounded the chorus.
“On unfootworthy shoes.” Mr. Kamanja answered.
“And then?” went on the chorus. Things were getting exciting here.
“ And then confiscate all the unfootworthy shoes and send the culprits home for better shoes so that …..” the principal interrupted, “ That’s okay Mr. Kamanja. It’s alright. But what criteria shall we use to determine an unfootworthy shoe?”
“That’s very simple Principal.” one of the teachers, a Mrs. Waweru replied.
“How simple?” asked the Principal, “Explain further.”
And Mrs Weru stood to illustrate, “well. Any shoe that has an open edge that makes it look like a Tilapia fish is unfootworthy.”
“Aha!” sounded the chorus and Mrs. Weru continued, “And any shoe that has a crack or a hole anywhere on the sole”.
“Go on!” sounded the chorus.
“And any shoe that has an opening on top save the place to insert the foot and the holes for the laces is also unfootworthy for this purpose.”
Finally the criterion was determined and as the teachers left for the meeting, the students were called for an assembly that was meant to be ‘The Crackdown’. And the following day half of the boys were sent home not to collect school fees balance. But to come with new shoes that met the prescribed standard.
Of course this conformed to the characteristic manner in which we guys here handle crisis. We never conceive or comprehend crisis. That is negative thinking and utter pessimism. We hope for the best; or why should someone hope for the worst? And when the worst does happen, we say it is unfortunate, it is not our making. We say we are not rainmakers or even responsible for the forces that shake the universe. We call ourselves unfortunate and wonder why others are blaming us for what we did not cause. SO crackdowns are common here. We see them on the roads, and on the streets. I hope one day we will get ourselves out of this style.