WILL THE GRASS GROW?(JUSTIN LAGAT) It was in July of 2000. Our school had done very well almost in everything. The previous week, my music group had emerged the winners at the Provincial Music Festivals and we were now getting ready to go and represent our province at the nationals the following week. I was really looking forward to this because my friend Ben had promised that we were going to visit his home and some other exciting places there in the city after the festivals. That same evening, the school football team also came back with good news. They had won a trophy at the District Championships! There was a lot of dancing, screaming and ululations at the school throughout the evening. But, our joy did not go past that midnight.

Never in my life had I ever awoken to such a horrifying shock. There was a blast. I opened my eyes quickly, but all I could see was a bright red color all over the place. Other students began to scream, accompanied by the sounds of screeching metal beds and window panes shattering. For a moment, I wondered if I was not in hell. Then, if I say what carried me out through the window and landed me safely outside, I would be lying, because I still do not know it up to now. Either it was the angels, reflex action, instinct or another phenomenon that is yet to be discovered.

“They are burning us?!” A scream from a student brought me to reality.
For a moment, everything seemed to be happening in a muted slow motion. Students were running about helter-skelter; others were jumping out from the windows while others were climbing back to salvage their belongings. Screams then began to rein the atmosphere as it spread to the other dormitories which were not also on fire, but students there had also awoken in fright. I could not help wondering about how some people could be heavy sleepers as I saw a student being carried out sleeping soundly!
Before long, flames became fiercer and the smoke was too much to bear. A form one student who was still trapped inside attempted to climb out of the window, but fell back into the burning mattresses. Ben offered to go and rescue him, but as some students were assisting him to the window, bigger flames and a darker smoke came their way and Ben was left in mid-air to land on the sharp glass fragments on the ground. Sadly, there was no way to save the student inside, but I am glad Ben was not able to get in. He may never have been able to come back alive, leave alone to rescue. But, from that night, I identified one person to put in a list of the bravest men on earth; I have never seen another one.

Soon, teachers and other subordinate staff began to arrive at the scene. We were asked to leave everything in their hands and assemble in one group then led to classrooms furthest from the dormitories. We never had enough time to put on warm clothing, but fortunately, we brought seats from all the twelve classrooms and fitted ourselves into two classrooms, so it became warm. No one was talking. Occasionally, one would rhetorically pose the question, “why would anyone want to burn us alive?” I would hear some sobbing and on my own cheeks would feel warm tears flowing as though in reply to the question. A teacher entered and asked us to identify the seriously injured students so that they could be rushed to the hospital. By then, an ambulance and a few police vehicles were already in the school compound. My friend, Ben, with other students was taken.

The following morning, we went to the dining hall for our breakfast, then proceeded to the assembly ground. A lot of parents had already arrived outside the compound and were peering through the fence in their attempt to find out whether their children were still alive; they were not allowed to enter the compound. There was a heavy presence of officials from the ministry of education together with the security personnel. An elderly lady whom I later learnt was the District Education Officer addressed us as soon as we had assembled ourselves. She expressed her condolences and in a soft motherly voice, recited a poem to us with a title: “Grass Will Grow.” She was sorry that the school will have to be closed indefinitely and everything, including our trip to Nairobi, would have to be cancelled. We left the school compound to go home shortly after her address.

A few days later while at home, one student brought me an alleged report that Ben had died at the hospital! I could not believe it. I took a few seconds to ponder about it, but I started feeling very sure that he was still alive. I told this to the student who brought the report to me and that I was not going to listen to anymore speculations from anyone. I was determined to learn this for myself when the school reopened.

The school was reopened almost a month later. I never asked about the whereabouts of Ben, but kept waiting to see him. The first day went without any sign of him. The second day passed and still he hadn’t arrived. On the third day as I was about to lose hope, I saw him enter the dormitory! I was beside myself with joy as I rushed to hug him. He kept staring at me, puzzled by my behavior. No one spoke. He was just looking directly in my eyes the way he would occasionally do while using the reflection on my eyes to adjust his neck-tie. Then he shook his head slowly and uttered, “You thought I was dead!”

“No” I replied and quickly left him still standing there. I was so happy!
Twelve years now after the tragedy, the grass has grown in some aspects. But, it may never reach a time when it will grow fully.

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