When I took Fiolina, the lucky laugh of my enviable life, to Golf Hotel for the much-talked-about romantic Valentine’s evening, it was just a simple, honest act of love, not show-off.
But it looks like I made some people jealous and angry. Unknown to me, our sub-county director of education was also in Kakamega that day. She came to Golf, alone, and left after taking just one soda.
Sources closer to my source say she greeted me but I ignored her. The truth is that I can’t remember that and if I did ignore her, then we can only blame Jug Daniels!
If you remember, when I went to the sub-county director’s office a few weeks ago, she really admired my dressing, even asking me to give her the contacts of my fundi. Turns out she only wanted to get my number. She started chatting me shortly afterwards. But as Nzomo would say, I did not feel her vibe.
So, when I ‘ignored’ her in Kakamega on Valentine’s day, she knew it was impossible for me to be in school early the next day, and that was her first stop from Kakamega. Unluckily for me, Alex, who I had left in charge, had not arrived.
Kuya was the only senior teacher available, and your guess is as good as mine on what he said about me, including lying that Bensouda, the immediate former HM whose chronic absenteeism was legendary, was more present in school than I.
I was summoned by the sub-county director in her office the next day. Unlike the last time, when I was quickly ushered in, this time round I was kept waiting outside her office the whole day. At 4pm, she said I go back home and see her the next day.
“Thank you, Madam,” I said, and reminded her that the school needed me, requesting that we talk.
“When you were in Kakamega loitering and drinking yourself silly, the school did not need you? What of when you went to Ukambani on a weekday to prevent a teacher from marrying? The school did not need you? When did dowry negotiations become part of a HM’s job?”
“Do not Madam me Mwalimu, do not Madam me, let’s meet tomorrow here at 7.47am,” she said. “Clearly, it was a mistake to make you a HIM.”
I was at her office the next day by 7.30 am. But it wasn’t until 11am that she arrived, and 2pm that she asked to see me. That day I was dressed to kill (no one): Stylish green kaunda suit, green komesha corona T-shirt inside, green socks and my usual black sharpshooter shoes. I had also worn designer perfume that Fiolina bought me on Valentine’s. This seemed to have warmed her heart.
She asked me to apologise for ignoring her on Monday, but I refused, telling her I did not remember seeing her.
“You are a great teacher with a great body and an amazing future ahead,” she said. “But kiburi itakumaliza,” she said, looking at me admiringly. “Come back next week Wednesday we talk."
By the time I got home, word was that I had been dropped as acting HM, obviously spread by Kuya.
“But Dre why are you struggling to be HM yet you can do other jobs well?” asked Nyayo after I had paid for his drinks. “You would make a great MCA as the current one is just sleeping.”
“MCA is too low for Dre,” said Tito, the owner of Busy Bee Academy. “Dre is MP-material. If he wins, he will be our first MP. We have never really had an MP, just jokers.”
Excited, I bought more drinks and by that evening everyone was singing my name, calling me mheshimiwa, including Hitler, who never expresses himself on such matters since he serves people from all walks of life.
People started calling me mheshimiwa everywhere I went: from men and women in homesteads to bodaboda riders, shop owners and general traders. Even at school, Saphire, who reported for the first time in weeks, called me mheshimiwa when he arrived and by afternoon, teachers were addressing me as mheshimiwa. While I tried to downplay it, deep down I loved it. People really liked me.
That day Kuya spent quite some time on phone and you don’t need a dictionary to know who he was speaking to. On Friday we had a HMs’ meeting to discuss KCPE and KCSE preparedness. I had thought that my popularity was just in our ward, but I was surprised to learn that it had gone far and wide. Many HMs from schools in other wards all called me mheshimiwa, and congratulated me in advance
“Ukienda huko usibadilike please,” one headmaster said.
“The current government is for the rich who care little about us,” another HM told me. “It is time we teachers got one of us in Parliament. Go do us proud Dre.”
The HMs told me they would freely and vigorously campaign for me as all teachers in the constituency had settled on me as the next MP.
Unsurprisingly, that evening the subcounty director of education summoned me to her office first thing on Monday morning. The SMS was written in capital letters, indicating that she was shouting!
I have thought about it, and while my plan was to contest for MCA in 2027, I am seriously considering running for MP this year. I think the time is perfect and my slogan, crafted by my brother Pius: Tried, Tested and Trusted, will resonate with everyone in Mwisho wa Lami and beyond.
For those asking where I will get campaign funds from, please note that I did not want to be an MP, it is the people who asked me to run. They will fund me as they need me more than I do. #TukutaneBunge.
