So this is what Keroche Breweries does.
I love it. I wish I had discovered this earlier. Then, I would have let Lorna go long ago.
It was 1985, and I was a Kenya Certificate of Education student at Kagumo High School.
She was the best English Teacher. She had graduated from a London University.
She was beautiful, stunning, an angel without wings.
Best of all, I loved her Queen’s English accent. You should have read my compositions. They were awesome. Anything to please my beloved Lorna.
One day, as I labored on my Tuesday afternoon double lesson English composition, she crept from behind.
She leaned over my shoulder and in that haunting accent, pointed out I had misspelt “audacious”.
Her breast. On my shoulder. No bra. Just my white cotton shirt and her light blouse between us.
Mahegoat Junior was painful and hard as a rock under the desk.
Unfortunately, students were getting distinctions in English and Literature. The head hunters come visiting that Thursday.
They had been sent out to all the top schools in the land to hunt for the best teachers.
M-zero-one needed the best for Moi High School, Kabarak.
By Monday, My Lorna had been transferred to Kabarak.
I failed in English and Literature. I was in mourning.
You, Teacher Number One, took my Lorna. At my most impressionable moment in my youth, teenage, you developed an implacable enemy.
May the devil very kindly take you, Sir.