The one time I 'chilled with the big boys'

"Who is the first Baron and founder of scouting?" 

There was pin drop silence followed by a disappointed face. Amudavi, the Scout's Patrol leader couldn't believe no one read the notes or did research during the holidays as he had asked. I'd say he was too ambitious - with the understanding that not many students did holiday assignments given by teachers, why expect the same to research on a co-curricilar activity?

Sitting in the room, my chest felt like a mortar whose pestle was overworking and my palms were sweaty. I was having a moment of indecision as I had researched and knew the answer. In my mind, it was a battle of logic and the proverbial 'going down with the team'. The predicament was; doing the latter securing the incubating friendships or creating a rift of mild hatred with fellow Scouts Club members.

For context: I was fresh from Primary School where I was also a scout and during competitions, I always admired how passionate High School troops were. It was the first club I joined after form 1 admission.

I chose to answer the question, regardless of the consequences. 

"I can't believe only a form one knows this when upper forms will make the competing group" a fairly angry Amudavi said.

"You know what, Marvin come here - you are setting a very good example and my reward is, you'll be among the competitors" he added.

This was huge, it meant I was the only boy among big boys. During competitions, 14 scouts were split into two groups: competitors, who got all the perks and observers, mostly from form one and two, who went only to learn and deliver supplies to the competitors. 

Literally, I was bound to chill with the big boys. The boys didn't like it. 

A week later, our date with scouts from other schools in the district arrived and we were ready to outshine the rest. Day one involved a lot of building and we barely slept. Day two involved inspections and day three was about challenges and drills. Day four was the last day.

My favourite thing about being among the big boys was you got to eat a half loaf of bread alone and listen to big boys talk about girls.

The competition was held on a field next to a girls high school, our sister school. The proximity excited the boys and they wanted to get closer for a chat, which was abominable and punished by suspension but heroic in the eyes of fellow students. Also it was an opportunity to pick and deliver love letters.

"Marvin, join us!" this was a call from a big boy who wanted me to be an accomplice as they headed towards the fence of the girl school. "...come see some beautiful girls and maybe you'll get a girlfriend." They sold me on "girlfriend."

I was the man on the look-out. My task was to signal the big boys when a security guard showed up. 

Beautiful girls swarmed - it was like half of the school was aware of boys' presence. Love letters exchanged hands; boys and girls made their deliveries. The letters, I came to find out later, had to be specially written - the more the effort put in, the deeper the expression of love. One had to get a piece of paper from a flowery notepad, use different coloured pens to improve aesthetics and finally it had to be splashed with a little bit of cologne. 

A steel cold hand grabbing my wrist brought me back to the presence of an angry security guard and I shrieked "tunashikwa!". The big boys ran and my heart sunk, why would they live me? I was led to the girls' school security office, to be made an example of. The guard locked the door just after asking me to write the names of all the boys who were with me. 

"I am not going to snitch" I said to myself. "is this what being in prison feels like?" The room was barely lit, a metal chair whose seat was in the middle stages of wear and tear, missed the synthetic leather that covered the middle part - it was most probably discarded from the teachers staff room to find refuge in the gate-man's office. The table was slightly dusty with a half eaten mandazi atop a piece of newspaper, and half a cup of tea. 

I took the piece of paper he had handed me and guessed ten names. When he came back, with his cold hands, he led me to the principal's office. "Are you a form one?" she immediately asked upon seeing me. I nodded. "What's your name?" ... "Kevin!" I lied. "Then you were probably just caught in the mix, I am sure you're not the culprit here..." The Scouts Patron, Teacher Manyasi had been informed of my unfortunate situation and he walked into the principal's office as she was speaking. After pleasantries, he apologised and said "Marvin, you do understand how bad this looks, apologise to madam before we leave". 

"His name is Marvin not Kevin?... are these names you've written real?" Madame principal caught me in my lies. I was trembling now and tears came to my eyes, I was in trouble. I shook my head. She was amused.  

We exited the gates of the girl school and I was met by the big boys. They were curious of my little ordeal, or probably wanted to know if I had sold them out. I shed a few tears as I narrated what had been a horrific experience to me. I was consoled by the big boys. Was I now a big boy?

Back at school rumours went round that I was caught embracing a girl and got locked in the guard's office. I didn't bother to correct them.