Ain’t you glad you are outta here? Ain’t you glad you are outta here? Ain’t you glad you are outta here ?
My mind raced back to my days at the centre. A particular image stood out. Captain Hussain.
There was something peculiar about the way he looked at you. It was that stare that seemed very harmless yet dangerous. He looked so fragile like a broom stick. He looked as if a strong sound current would blow him away. Capt. Hussain!
Clad in their military attire, they all stood at rapt attention. The class captain had a big folder in his hand. This was the register. Their mobile phones had all been confiscated from them and locked away till the end of the school day. This was like semi- penitentiary. This was the routine every work morning day. This was life in Mekkida Boys centre, Dibba.
Gili picked up the letter and read it for the umpteenth time. Those verses haunted him. They shook him and woke him to the reality that he was out of there. He may be out of there but was ‘there’ out of him?
Before his departure from the Centre, the head of the Centre had a heart to heart discussion with him.
“Please can you reconsider your stance?”
“Mr. Ga, you are a man I respect so much but I am afraid on this occasion I wouldn’t be able to reconsider my stance”.
“May I ask why?”
“Because I have been away for too long. Since 1976, I have been away from home, in work sojourn. I started off in Kuwait, from Kuwait, I went to Iraq, from Iraq, I went to Libya and from Libya, I went to Oman, returned to Ireland for a six months stint, then came out to Abu Dhabi. And while in the UAE I have been in Ras Al Khaimah, Fujairah and Ajman. I have done my time I need to go back”.
“I do understand that that Mr. Gili, but what I do not understand, is the sudden departure mode”
“My wife wants me home. If I do not go back home, my marriage may dent more”.
“Mr. Gili, you can take a second wife from here. Because you reside here, you may as well take advantage of the laws of our land.”
“Thanks for your kind gesture and suggestion, I shall think about it but in the meantime, I gotta take my leave”.
Gili replayed the last conversation with the head of the centre over and over in his mind. Each time he replayed it, it was like a car about to choke. You know when the battery of a car is gone and you try to kick start it and it makes that awry sound kiak kiak kiak kiak vehemently and then kiak kiak kiak with the very life of it snuffing out at each attempt. That was how Gili felt each time he recollected his last conversation with the head.
The centre was not exactly a bad place to work irrespective of all the dodgy characters that made the place so alive. Gili tried to relive some very nice memories of the place. He scratched his brain for a long time. Finally he remembered Saeed. Saeed was a very heavy set young man. He hadn’t had a shave in probably six months and his face was full on with beard. His beard was very black and shimmering. His face was always dripping with perspiration anytime he walked in from the sun. This also gave his face a glistening effect. His hair was constantly under shave, because he was always getting into some sort of misdemeanor or the other. One peculiar thing about him though was his smile. He had a very broad smile. He had a body odor and he was aware of it which made him to always have some perfume in his pocket. This he used intermittently to neutralize the effect body emission.
“Saeed never failed to amuse me”, Gili laughed. His wife heard him laughing at one moment and the next he was crying and wiping tears from his eye. His wife was trying to get used to this new habit, since he returned with from the Middle East.
“What is it this time honey?”
“Oh nothing to worry about. Just remembered Saeed. Poor fella Saeed!”
The students never liked Saeed because of his heavy set nature and because he could not participate in the fun and sporty activities. He walked like an overfed hippotamus and I watched him over a three years period balloon and balloon way. When I first noticed the signs of expansion, I called him and had a quiet word with him. I warned him about the unfolding scenario. I advised him to curb it before it gets too dangerous.
“Teacher no problem. *Mafi Muskila” he said.
I said back to him “ oh k”, if you say so.
Three years after my initial warning Saeed had moved from 2XL to 5XL.
He was a darn clever boy. During the exams period, all the boys would be clamouring to sit next to him. He would always let out some real bad wind which took a combined effort of opening all the windows and using his perfume to alleviate the collateral damage.
This he always did during exams period and his mates would not say anything because they knew that they had to put up with him in order to be enjoying the dividends of his cleverness.
*Mafi Muskila – colloquial Arabic meaning no problem.
By Uwem Umana
