“Okay. This is a new experience and I’m going to try & make the most of it.” These were the words I softly whispered to myself as the car rolled passed the small metallic gate supported by two firm brick-faced pillars on either side. This place was not my first choice but circumstances had led me here. There was a cool breeze that had started as we went up the incline of the gentle hill and this continued as we drove through the canopy that almost seemed to bow and usher us towards the area with more buildings and people.
Eventually, I came to see a vast well-trimmed grassy area on our right that I easily recognized as the football pitch and beyond it, the high rising poles of the rugby pitch as well. This view to the right had little to no human activity but the terrace below showed a glimpse of the tops of greenery that inevitably gave me a feeling of tranquillity as I thought to myself, "this looks nice…”
In contrast, on the left, as the canopy of the trees started to thin out, a cottage-like structure came into view. As we drove past it, even with my relatively poor eyesight, I could see the bold words spelling out, “Hanlon: House of Lords”. Influenced by the little histories I’d heard about this institution, I instantly pictured a group of middle-aged white men with those weird wigs (that the legal fraternity still holds onto for whatever reason) sitting around smoking pipes and drinking expensive drinks and sharing their wildly exaggerated stories about the good that colonization could do. There was a footpath with a few scattered trees that led the way towards a bold towering statue of a shirtless boy holding up a little book in front of a ramp-like building that I came to know as the administration block.
The paved area around here was filled with activity as cars were directed to the parking area and people clamoured in and out with their metallic suitcases, mattresses and other luggage. My old man squinted through his thick glasses and eventually saw the signage for the check-in desk & we proceeded through the line till we were cleared to go to the residential area. A small winding path diverted off the main footpath I’d spotted earlier leading us past a human-sized rather rudimentary sculpture of two guys tussling over a rugby ball.
Just beyond it, I could see four little chicken house-looking structures and the slightly older boy I’d been assigned to help with my luggage pointed out that we would be heading into the nearest one. I was glad to hear this because between the rush of being in a new space & all the walking and carrying, my little chubby self had started running out of breath. As we came closer to the entrance, I could make out the words spelling out the name of my home for the next year, Kuipers House.
We set down the luggage for a minute, stretched out our backs & massaged our hands to prepare for the final carry. “Ready to go?”, the old man soon asked. I puffed out my chest and with all the confidence and wonderment I could muster, I replied, “Yeah, May as well…” We were met by an instant wave of heat as we crossed the threshold of the entrance & as I looked up, I could see the roof trusses holding up the firm roughcast concrete structures in the ceilingless building. I was practically on auto-pilot so as I tried to spot an ideal sleeping location, we ended up walking straight through the first section of the building.
I’m glad we kept walking because as we got passed the section divide, I saw a slightly chubby but rather sporty chap perched up on the top bunker, regaling a group of about 4 eager listeners with the 'compelling' story of how he had brilliantly conquered his Primary Leaving Exams. I recall thinking to myself, “wow, this guy either has quite the ego or is definitely an interesting person to know…”
I soon discovered that we were in the same class stream although, beyond that, we were not particularly close at the time probably owing to all the little clique divisions along former school lines that people gravitated towards.
As the former-school lines became more blurred over the years and interactions became more natural, I learned that he was also a leftie & I admit this gave me some level of camaraderie with the guy. He was more athletic than I but I eventually realised that we had more in common including an interest in literature.
By a combination of choice & circumstances, I found myself seated on the left-hand side of this fellow while in my final year on this particular hill. (Admittedly we had a buffer in between of my then-best friend and a whole other fascinating individual). I came to learn that the young man also had a similar family structure to mine & this was inevitably one of the things that we bonded over in our shared conversations over time.
I will however skip over the next two years I spent on another hill school because that had little to no contribution to the tale for today.
This puts the timeline at the top of yet another hill on what is considered the premier institution of the land. Another combination of choice & circumstances put us in the same living situation in this place that is considered a melting pot of people from all walks of life. It was surely nice to see a familiar face. The living conditions were less than ideal but this made for some interesting experiences all through the next four years.
The ageing structure known as (the recently decommissioned) Lumumba Hall became the brewing pot of some of my best friendships. Through the many spirited arguments, random party times, multiple meals and layered conversations, I am glad for all the circumstances and choices that led to one of my closest and most trusted friends.
This was supposed to have gone out on his birthday but owing to a few unavoidable circumstances, I choose to put this out today and celebrate my friend, confidant and counsel, Kawalya Stephen.
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