LEARNING ENGLISH WAS NOT EASY

 

We started learning to read and write in English in class three at Consolata Primary School. We used the New Oxford English Course East Africa Book One. It was not easy learning how to pronounce this and that, it was much easier to say zis and zat,  and it took a lot of beatings to be able to say those words correctly.
I remember a group of student teachers came to our school and one of them taught both class 3A and 3B an English song,  The teacher then held a singing competition between us Class 3A and Class 3B, I remember our comrades 3A won. This is how I remember singing the song, please don't ask me for further explanation about the song;

My way, my wayz cloudy my way

Godsend ze chelenjes down,

Zeaiz Faya in ze is and faya in ze wes, 

Faya in the chelenj down

For God has send his chelenjes down God send his chelenje down

Not lovely

That's that for our English then.

I did not like arithmetic at all, the book we used was Hesabu za Kikwetu book 3, and it seemed that all our arithmetic teachers loved using the cane, which made Arithmetic more difficult to understand. Arithmetic was the reason why I first skipped school.
 We had an arithmetic lesson every day, on Monday the lesson was in the morning, on Tuesday it was in the afternoon.
One Monday morning our teacher gave us homework which we were to submit on Tuesday afternoon. I did not do the homework, I knew that meant getting the cane, so I decided not to go to school on that Tuesday, instead I went down to the banks of Ruaha river to swim and play and spent the whole day there. Back in school one of the teachers asked my younger sister why had I not attended classes that day, she answered she did not know, so she was told to tell my mother that I did not attend school that day.

Ruaha River

The next morning I went through the usual procedures of being a nice boy eager to go to school, although of course, I had no intention of going to school, going to school would mean I would get punished for not doing the arithmetic homework and also for not being in school on Tuesday. Just as I was leaving my mother called me back, and she said ‘Today we are going together to your school, clean my bicycle I am getting ready.' This was terrible news, I knew my game was up. And so we went to school, silently, at school, I was taken straight to the teacher’s staff room. All teachers knew my mother and some were even her friends. The moment they saw me, they started laughing, one shouted ‘Mama Kitime you have brought this hooligan back good, we will straighten him’ One teacher started, ‘I have a class to attend to but please I will give him 6 strokes as soon as I am free’ and he left the office,  another teacher promised to give me twelve strokes and left the office and so on, I could already feel the pain of the beatings om my bottom. And I remember Mwalimu Daudi saying to my mother, ‘Mama Kitime, we need to cane him like they do in prison. We get a piece of cloth and dip it in salt water, that we put on his buttocks and then give him about six canes he will never miss a class again’. The sad thing is my mother was happily agreeing to all those suggestions of practically killing me. After my mother and the teachers discussed several ways that they would torture me to stop me from skipping classes, I was told to go to my class and I will be called later to take my punishment. I don’t know how I got through that day, as I was waiting to be called any minute to go and receive my punishment, nothing ever happened but I was so scared that it was many years later when I was in secondary school did I ever dare to miss classes again.

Consolata Primary School as it looks now, the assembly ground is on the forefront

When I mentioned some of the students I remembered from those days 1963/64 in Consolata, I mentioned a student called Macdonald. I just cannot forget him because of the incident that happened that caused Macdonald and several of his friends to get canned in front of the whole school.
There was this boy called Shaibu, it seems he told some friends that his grandmother had told him that if you can get sand from someone’s footprint and fry it in oil that person will die. This group of boys decided that this was a perfect way to get rid of Mwalimu Daudi, the most feared teacher. So they began tracing him so that they could get his foot print. It seems one of the gang members ‘chickened’ and decided to tell Mwalimu Daudi of the plot to ‘kill’ him.
We were in the middle of classes when the bell suddenly rang, and that meant we were all to assemble in front of the school. Mwalimu Daudi arrived with a bundle of canes, this meant there people who were to be caned in front of the whole school. Who were they? What did they do?, We had never seen such a big bundle of canes being brought at such an assembly.

Mwalimu Daudi stood up and told us the story of these people who were planning to kill him, we were all shocked, a student was first sent to bring a bucket of sand. Then Mwalimu Daudi had the sand spilt and he made a foot print in the sand. Then he announce he was going to call one by one the culprits and after getting six canes they would have to take sand from that footprint and do what they wished with it.
The first guy to be called out was Macdonald, as soon as he heard his name he let out a loud cry and continued to cry out loud, mentioning all his accomplices' names. And they were cries everywhere and the canning hadn’t even started. And so the poor guys got their punishment and were forced to take sand from Mwalimu Daudi’s footprint.

 

 

GOODBYE TO THE OPEN SPACES IN IRINGA TOWN

 

Jalada la gazeti tulilopewa na kwenye maonyesho ya Wajerumani 1963

In 1963, Iringa had a number of open spaces where we spent our time as children. The biggest was the ground behind the Government Lower Primary School, which is now known as Mlandege Primary School, this was a huge ground because actually it was the first airport in Iringa and that’s where the name Mlandege stemmed from, planes would come from the direction of Tosamaganga or from Itamba side, and it seemed like they were eaten up by the ground. One plane did crash there, and its remains were visible until the late 50s. On these grounds we had lots of football matches, with several teams playing on the huge ground at the same time, there was time the grounds were used for inter school athletics competitions also.
The other open spaces were the neighbouring grounds at Iringa Middle School which was later named Mshindo Primary School. These grounds have a very long history. First they used to belong to the Iringa Gymkhan Club, and there was a football pitch, a cricket pitch and a cement tennis court. The football pitch became the town main football ground after shifting from the Boma  Grounds which I will soon talk about. One of the most interesting football clubs that played on this pitch was Born town Football Club, it was commonly known as  Boni. All the players in the club were born in Iringa town and in particular they had to have been born in Miyomboni and Kitanzini areas. It was a big risk playing with Boni as most of their matches ended up in boxing brawls especially when they lost. I remember even their jerseys were frightening, they wore black jerseys.
The play grounds are now the Samora Stadium. 

Photo taken on 26 April, 1974. In the background are  buildings of Mshindo Primary School, formerly Iringa Middle School before they were razed and Samora Stadiume built. In the picture Indian residents of Iringa performing their traditional dance

The other open space in our childhood was the community center grounds. Some of my sweetest memories of this open space were being taken there by my uncle to watch free mobile films every month. The day started with promotion of different brands of products, from cigarettes to Blue Band margarine. That is where I saw Bwana Msafiri, this was a musician with a trombone who would play and sing the Sportsman promotional song;

Bwana Msafiri mi nasema,
Hakuna sigara inayokufaa.
Ila Sportsman King size
Ile yenye kichungiiiiiii

There would be Coca-Cola drinking competitions, who could finish most Coca-Cola’s in the shortest time, who could eat more bread with Blue Band in the shortest time,  by collecting cigarette packets you could end up winning  a bundle of notebooks. In the evening there would be a film or two of actors with great names like Roy Rodgers, John Wayne, Lawrence and Hardy (Chale Ndute and Chale Mbwambwambwa), Charlie Chaplin and there was someone narrating what was going on.
During the day these grounds would be noisy with children playing on the ‘ mabembea’. Swings, slides and other games for children.
The other open space was ‘Gofu’. There was a European Club, known as Iringa Club, and it owned a vast ground which stretched from behind the present Iringa Library, all way to Wilolesi Primary School. It was a  golf course, with green nicely trimmed green grass and black round spots here and there. That was our ground also when the kites (vishada) season started.

And then there was the open ground between Makorongoni and Mwembetogwa, which was also used a football pitch and used also during the kites season, I think it was owned by the East African Railways as it was surrounded by railway workers’ quarters.

Mwembetogwa grounds

But the most important open space was the Boma Ground. As its name suggests, it was the ground in front of Bomani, the government headquarters. This ground is very old it was Iringa’s first official football pitch, it was on this ground that before Independence, the British army soldiers would hold their parades, and it was on this ground that the Uhuru Celebrations were held.
All the big public celebrations were held here. Once in the early 60s students from Ifunda Technical School built some small beautiful buildings  to show their expertise, and the buildings still stood until recently when they were destroyed by some official order. On this ground again there were children’s swings and slides. There was the  Uhuru fountain on one side of the ground, which  worked very well with water sprinkling out in nice artistic way. When you think of it the colonialist cared for the children more than the present peoples government does.

Maandamano towards Boma Grounds 1964

Government and political national celebrations usually began with maandamano coming from different areas of the town and all meeting at the Boma ground. Schools would come marching with their brass bands leading them, and would also meet at this ground. Each school band trying to out play the other. The school brass bands playing old King African Rifles (KAR) army song, like Tumemkamata Mzungu wa ndege, or the playing the common Ngo ngo ngi twaingilia.

The Iringa Jamat Khana Brass band

At last when everyone had gathered there would be speeches and after that exhibitions from different people, ngomas from different tribes and of course in the evening  ‘gulugulu’ or ‘patapotea’ the dice games would continue.

One of the most interesting event that I remember which took place at the Boma Ground in 1963 was the German mobile exhibition. A convoy of German lorries came to Iringa and parked at the Boma ground for some days and exhibited German products, it was a memorable event, and we were given German magazines to read!!!
We ended up just looking at the pictures.

The Germans' convoy map

1963 FUN AND GAMES AT MAKORONGONI

 

1963, my mother was busy with her work as Mama Maendeleo (Welfare Officer), her office was at the Community Center in Kitanzini better known as Olofea from the word Welfare, she would wake up in the morning and go to her office on her bicycle, me and my sister would go to school, in those days Saturday was  a working day so on those days sometimes  I would accompany her to work place, it was a fun place to be, many children gathered there, there was a teacher who took care of small  children who  wanted to just  sing and play, his name was Mr Mwambola, and for the older children there were so many games there, boxing, darts, card, some older children were practicing their choir music, the community center was a noisy fun and safe place for the children, all paid and run by the Government .

Back at  Barabara Mbili Street, after school hours we were busy, very busy. Let us take a typical Saturday, the day would start with a bowl of maize porridge with a slice of bread and that was the breakfast. Sometimes while drinking the porridge from afar you would hear,

Kikojozi kakojoa
Na nguo kaitia moto
Kidumbwe ndumbwe
Chalia

 This tune meant some kid in the street has a habit of peeing in bed, so his parents have invited his friends to parade him all over the street, with his wet bed sheets or his sleeping mat. This was a signal to rush out and join the fun.  Children would be joining from everywhere and the crowd got bigger and bigger, and we all ended up at the water stream where the last act is throwing this poor kid into the water. And for the next three four days he would be the butt of all bedwetting jokes. I wonder if that stopped them bed wetting, but I guess it did because I don’t remember seeing the same kid being paraded twice.

Where the Iringa main bus stand is now, used to be a graveyard, even by 1964 it was rarely used, for us that became our playground. We played hide and seek, built our secret hide outs, where we roasted birds we had hunted. When we got tired of playing here we would go down the road past the Mhabeshi’s (The Ethiopian) house to the water stream below to swim. Or we would go to Ilala to the main dump and search look for interesting things to play with. Another important dump was the one near the ‘European School’, St George and St Michael. At this dump we would find beautiful things, sometimes even toy cars, but it was very risky they had watchmen all the time to stop ‘African boys’ getting near the school, but it was always worth the risk.

It was the same with the risk we took going to Itamba to steal mangoes. The families of Nyamwezi a who came as soldiers in the German army, later went to settle at Itamba, and planted a lot of mango trees, now their grandchildren who identified themselves as Wahehe owned these trees, and did not like anyone stealing their mangoes. They had many dogs, but that was not enough to stop us going up those trees, a number of us broke our limbs falling from those trees when being chased by angry owners with their dogs.

One place where we were strictly forbidden to go but went anyway was down at the Ruaha River. We were told many scary stories of children who had sank and died and their bodies never found but that did not stop us going to swim and fish in that river. To go to Ruaha we would take the path that went behind the Iringa Prison and in few minutes we were down the river. We knew all the deep places and stayed away from them. At Ruaha apart from swimming, fishing, there were a lot of wild fruits. And we also went back to town carrying sisal leaves to make ropes with.
Some days we would just play near our home, making small drums using tin cans, singing songs by bands, I remember a particular song by Cuban Marimba Band that we used to play that went like this,

Mpenzi wangu siku hizi

Umenadili nia

Mpenzi wangu siku hizi

Umebadili nia  

One day  my friend Lester and I decided we had to have our own  band just like some schools had. So we first had to get a cow skin. We managed to get 5 shillings from his father, I will not say the story how we managed to get the money but we did, I guess you understand. At the end of the Makorongoni street there was a slaughter house and we went there and with our 5 shillings bought a good cow skin. We first had to soak the skin in water to make it soft so that we could make our drums. We went and soaked it at the stream where we also always swam; we want it to soak for two days so as to become soft enough to make drums. On the first day we checked it and it had started softening, on the second day we went to check it so as to start making our drums, the skin was gone. We started doing some detective work and sure enough a few weeks later we found out who took the  cow skin, but ………….
At one end of the street there was this very quiet guy who never talked to anybody, one day he tried to hang himself, luckily?? The rope he used gave away and he survived, after that we were doubly frightened of him, even though he never bothered anybody we were just scared of his silence and the fact that he had tried to hang himself.
To get make a living, this guy started a nursery school under a tree just near the Iringa Prison, he always looked funny him and his class of hardly ten children, sometimes parading and the children singing the songs he had taught them. Now someone tipped us that this was the guy who stole our cow skin, and sure enough a few days later his school had a set of newly made drums. We didn’t even try to ask him, that’s how scared we were of him.

When I think back, sure enough I wanted to form my first band in 1963.

1963 AT CONSOLATA PRIMARY SCHOOL STD THREE

Barabara Mbili Street

 So in November 1962, our family moved to Makorongoni, Barabara mbili Street to live with my grandfather now that father was not around. In January 1963, I was enrolled in Consolata Primary School, a Catholic primary school. Everything was new; I was now living in a new street, enrolled in a new school, in a new class with new friends, and new teachers. In standard three we now had more lessons and more teachers, and we were given bigger exercise books than the ones we used in class 1 and 2.

Consolata Primary School

 

 

I remember the teachers first and foremost Mwalimu Daudi, he was feared by students even from neighboring schools, and he was also  the music teacher who trained the school brass band and sometimes on Sundays he would teach us Catholic songs, I still remember the Latin song he taught us one Sunday, it went on like this;

Atende domine

Et mi serere

Quia pe ca vi mustibi

Aderexume ........

 

Our school brass band was the best in town, even the equipment was second only to the brass band owned by the Ismailia  Jamat Brass band. The school band had 1 big bass drum, which was played by Naftari Kigahe, accompanied by 5 drummers playing drums of two different sizes. There were several tin flute players, they could have been twelve or more I don't clearly recall, there were two students playing the crash cymbals, one just playing a small iron triangle. Leading the band was the drum major who held the mace; ours was an imported mace, not just a stick like other schools. On special public occasions each school would be led by its brass band, the drum major would come up with many funny antics just to better other drum majors. Our drum major would be adorned in colourful pieces of clothes to make him out shine the  others.

Drum major's mace

The second teacher that I remember was Mwalimu Kalinga, a different one from the lady Mwalimu Kalinga who was a teacher at my last school, this one was a male, very smart, most of the time in full suits looking very modern with his gold frame glasses. His favourite punishment was ordering a student to go and try to break the big rock that was near the school using a hammer,  and he had to hear the sound of the hammer knocking the rock while he is busy teaching.

Mwalimu Kalinga's rock

The third teacher whom I remember was Mwalimu Filangali, he became our arithmetic teacher in class 4, I was really scared of him. He would many times wear white short trousers and a white shirt, with long stockings and black shoes. I still remember him always with two or three pens stuck in his stockings, and had a cane in his hand, he was the reason why I first played truant, but that is a story for later. And then there was this lady teacher Mwalimu Consolata, who was also my mother’s friend, every time she beat me she would remind me that she is beating me harder because my mother was her friend!! The headmaster was Mr Mwinuka, we just never crossed paths, he taught the higher classes and we rarely saw him.

After a few weeks in my new school and new street, I started making friends; some of them have remained my friends to date. My best friend was Emmanuel ‘Katuluta’, who went on to become a senior lecturer in a University in Namibia,  he was nicknamed Katuluta because he found it easier to say Katuluta yangu instead of Kaptura yangu, this name stuck with him to his death a few years ago.

Let me mention a few of my school mates, there was Naboth, who went on to become a became a Profesor of medicine, Pius became a politician and died a District Commissioner, Chesus  a civil engineer, Emmanuel Minila, who changed his name later was a senior officer in the Ministry of Trade, and then there was Lester, he was my neighbour at barabara mbili, and boy we did some strange things with Lester just sit tight. His father was a pastor, a very kind old man. Many of my other comrades I remember only by their first names Jelasi, Fredi my scientist partner, we were serious about being able to produce electricity by simply tying old batteries together and soaking them in a cesspit, and there was Macdonald, he was involved in a very funny plot to kill one of the teachers by magic, unfortunate some snitched on him, but we will get to that story later. And then there were the older guys from upper classes, John 'Mzungu' who was rumoured to have a big book with answers to the questions in school that was why he always passed very highly!! And there was Gerald who was Emmanuel Katulutas brother, Raphael who was Chesus's brother a great artist, and there was Abbas Kandoro one of our prefects who went on to be famous as the Dar es Salaam Regional Commissioner, there was a guy called Odongo, Odongo was strong and he would be called to hold us proper when we were to get a beating. 

A few months after starting class three I also started attending my Confirmation lesson at the church just next to school, about three months later I was ready for 'Kipaimara'. My mother bought me new clothes and on the confirmation day we ate rice and meat at home, I can still remember the sweet aroma of the rice of that day.

  

On my Confirmation day

At the end of every year there was an examination, it was serious because the last 5 people in the class had to re-sit the whole year. We called it 'kubunda', it was not a nice thing. On the last day in school, we would all assemble and be made to sit on one side of the parade ground in front of the school. A class teacher would come and call out the names of all her students starting in the order of the best student first, when your name was called you ran to the other side of the ground symbolizing you had gone to the upper class, and this went on until the teacher would say and so those whose names I haven't called have failed and will stay in the same class next year. This went on for all classes, at the end there was this sad and miserable group of students from each class who would have to re-sit sitting on one side of the ground being ridiculed and laughed at and a happy lot  who were going to  upper classes sitting on the other enjoying themselves.  After that there would be a short speech by the headmaster and we would then be told the day the school would reopen and we were dismissed.

And immediately fights started, it seemed we thought the teachers were now powerless so it was time to beat up anyone who annoyed you during the term, or even getting beaten up by some one  you had annoyed,

 

1963  was over.

DISASTER! JAIL TERM FOR THE HEADMASTER

 

One day in September 1962 while working in his office,  a messenger from the district government office brought a note, it was from Mr. Mwalukasa who was the District Education Officer(DEO), the note was in Kiswahili and read like this;

To the Headmaster Iringa Middle School,

Msaidie huyo aliyeleta  hiyo barua ni mesenja wangu ana tatizo anataka kwenda kuoa. Msaidie shilingi 300/- atarudisha.

The  DEO was well aware that the Headmaster had the school funds in his capacity. The money was never returned, my father must have naively thought that the messenger would return the money after the wedding.
On Friday November 9, 1962, I was in my father’s office playing while he was working, I still remember, a white man wearing blue shorts and short sleeved shirt, coming into the office, after some talk, my father sent me home and told me to tell my mother that he had been taken to the police station.

What really happened that day was that actually two people came, the primary school supervisor, Mr. Amrani Mayagila had accompanied the second visitor who was from the Government Audit department in Mbeya,  he came and told my father that he had been informed that there was 300/- shillings missing from the school fund!!. 
My father agreed and showed the Auditor the note from Mr Mwalukasa, but the auditor told my father they  were taking him to the police station.
My mother was by then working as a Welfare Officer so she was not at home at the time. When she came home and heard what happened she went to the police station and was told my father was already  remand, and  would be taken to court the next morning.  She worked hard that evening to raise the 300/- and by 9:30 in the morning she was at the court house with the money only to be told it was over, her husband told her that he had already been sentenced to 18 months in jail.
He was a prisoner at the Iringa prison for 5 days , I remember my mother taking me to see him, it was strange seeing my father in jail uniforms squatting like other in mates, small as I was, the sad picture has forever  stuck in my head. On Thursday November 15^th , just 6 days later, my father and 20 other prisoners all in handcuffs  were transferred to Ruanda Prison in a public bus. They arrived in Mbeya around 5 pm, and were sent to Ruanda prison, where they were counted and identified and given numbers.
Francis Kitime was now prisoner no 1797.