Good old Duhaga!

On Wednesday evening last week I linked up with my brother Gordon and an OB who were were with in Duhaga and who is currently a doctor, Frank Nyakojo. Yes, from the good old Duhaga Senior Secoundary School in Hoima.

As expected the stories kept flowing around how we could have possibly survived them days. With the water fetching from the nearby swamp! It was a swamp not a well!

The 'kudabora' where one went for two helpings of posho, beans and them weevils! The good old kitchen had pretty good 'morden' facilities.

We also talked about the then Headmaster Mr Nsamba, how he militarised the school on return from the famous or is it infamous Kyankwanzi Military School. We had to get up at 4am just to run around the town.

This is what would have ordinarily been our school 'bus' one time we had a geography trip and lumped into it. All the way to Queen Elizabeth Park only to sprain my ankle when i got there! Dont ask what we did when it decided to rain!

This is how the domitory looks now. During our time we had cubicles. Separated by some wooden wardrobes. And we used to hide in them to avoid going to assembly. Cooking was illegal but trust us to boil sweet potatoes on top of the wardrobes. One day someone forgot to keep checking the water level in the sauce pan. A nice cloud of smoke reminded the world!

I could not help recalling how one time I was just picked to command the 'batallion' Then haha! taking pride I commanded "Kulia geuka" and proceeded to turn in the opposite direction. It was crazy.

We talked about how we survived Malaria episodes. Gordon could not hold back emotion as he spoke of a friend who even used his school fees to nurse him. It was that bad. Eventually he was taken to Mombasa for a checkup only to discover the malaria parasites were actually in the spleen thus explaining the constant episodes of malaria.

I also recalled how Jane Katigo had also nursed me when I was down. Guys that school was about survival. The 'dispensary' was on hand to pump you either with Chloroquine which would make you itch in parts you never dreamt existed or with Quinine which would make your ears sing!

As we thought of how close we actually were to death. (Its no joke, Malaria is simply no joke) we couldnt help thinking of how we need to reach out to the less privillaged in life. Ok, so it may be your village you can start with, but that little child could have been the next president or scientist.

A few bed nets, some spraying, provision of basic drugs. It may be a little effort but one just never knows the impact of ones helping hand! You never know!

And to those who reached out then. Asante Sana!