These are memories

This is the beginning of this story…normally I would consider writing a combustible, winding, tragedy composed of minute phrases of laughter, but this time I will consider writing about memories of bitter sweet moments with increasing crescendo of unspeakable torture! These are memories of a place I would not think of going to in my normal senses yet the thought of staying away makes my heart get pangs of painful sorrow, a place I wish I never knew though I’m grateful that it has become part of my timeline, a place that taught me that experience is the worst teacher who would elude all examples till the student has failed the first test, so that the failed test becomes the new example. However, despite all these mind shattering events, I still cling to this place the way a child clings to its mother trusting in the motherly care and the natural instinct of the unfailing love a mother gives to a child.
This place, I look to as my ALMA MATER, my mother, although my view is enlarged into a wider perspective, a heightened vision, a different dimension, a dimension where pain and joy, day and night, co-exist in chivalrous harmony, a dimension of tranquility, calm, where my mind always wanders.
This place is the school where I set the roots of my education. The school all schools call “School”. The school I can never describe in words but rather in the passion hidden deep inside my heart. The school I hesitate not to call home. The school whose name I‘d pause, take a breath, and carefully pronounce every single syllable with gleeful pride, gallant valor and leave all the on lookers looking on in awe….ST MARY’S SECONDARY SCHOOL NAMALIGA the school that can best define the meaning of paradise.
When I look back at the hustle to get a secondary school, I think of myself to be like one Israelite being led on by Moses to the promised land, the Canaan of the 21st century, St Mary’s secondary school Namaliga. It is truer than not to say that sometimes treasure lies where least expected or rather, there’s more to St Mary’s than meets the eye…for what should I say? And what should I leave secluded, concealed, guarded far away in the deepest, safest spot of my bosom because each memory, each moment in St Mary’s seems to be as important and priceless as the other.
St Mary’s secondary school Namaliga, you will always stay with me in my heart, I just can’t get the right words that can show you the color of my heart.
Long live St Mary’s.
Ojok morris micheal