Of Editors Being Edited: A Story About My Dad

It was a Thursday. I hated Thursdays because with them came Sports Day, or more specifically Sports (Half) Day. This is because Sports Day happened in the afternoon between 2pm and 5pm. I hated anything and everything Sport Day represented. From being made to run round the pitch 67 times, in a pitch that had long grass to sitting in the sun for three straight hours. All that may sound normal to you Olympic fans except I had recurring Bronchitis growing up, the long grass made my legs so itchy, and sitting in the sun for three hours wasn’t something I considered sun-bathing. Also, the grass was rumored to be heavily infested with snakes. You already know that I hate, nay, detest snakes. Get the picture? Good.

This particular Thursday I went to school feeling like I just couldn’t be bothered to go for Sports Day and I shared these sentiments with my best friend Zipporah. Interestingly, she was of like great mind as she was thinking the EXACT same thing. The rest became history and a plan was hatched. We would spend the afternoon at her place watching day time TV, then we would sneak back to school at 5pm for preps, then go home at 6pm. Everything looked right on paper. So at 1pm when we went for lunch, we went to Zippy’s and did not go back to school for the Sports Day. Genius!

What we watched that day is lost to my memory, but I remember vividly how we walked back to school with a feeling of triumph. We had managed to escape Sports Day! This was no mean feat. We felt like champions of sorts until we got to the school gate and found all the teachers (and I exaggerate only slightly) waiting for us. And just like that, we dropped the gladiator walk and put on our puss-in-boots eyes. Apparently, so many of us had skipped Sports Day that the school management had noticed. What followed after we were busted was a lot of corporal punishment blah blah blah but the worst part was that we were asked to bring our parents to school the next day. Now, it would take me a whole day to explain to you how I feared my parents. Up to this point (I was thirteen years old, going on to fourteen), I had never done anything wrong, not because I was a good child but because my parents had instilled the fear of God in me.

Puss-in-boots-eyes

To tell my mum or dad (?) that was the question. I was ridden with angst. I finally decided to write my dad a letter, and pin it next to his clothes, so he could see it, read it, then come to school and see the Head Mistress. The letter read something like:

Dearest Dad,

I know that I’m the worst child in the whole universe. Yesterday I thought that I was brighter than all the adults in my school (read: teachers). So me and my friend Zipporah (the one who lives near that Catholic Church, the brown one, yes, that one!) went to their place to watch Tv. It doesn’t sound so smart now Dad, but yesterday it sounded like quite the bright idea. The thing is the teachers found out and they need you to come to school immediately. If you don’t come they will keep spanking me, and you already know that I cry a lot when I’m beaten by teachers. You know this because I’m your child and you know I’m a coward. I plead with you to forgive me and come to school before the teachers kill me. Please forgive me times 1,000,000. I will never ever ever ever ever x 1,000,000 make another mistake in my life. If I cheat I hate God.

Love always,

Your reformed daughter 

(Me)

Ps. Dad this is the first mistake I have ever made

I kid. What I wrote must have been illegible perhaps because of all the tears I cried in trepidation. Seriously though, I went to school the next day hoping my dad had gotten my letter and he would show up. He obviously hadn’t because he didn’t show up. I was beaten up (spank sounds un-serious) and sent home again. Anyhoo, long story short, I ended up going to school the next week on Monday with my dad. And that is actually the point to this whole post.

The ride to school that morning was very quiet. I don’t remember my siblings being there with my dad and I that day. My dad was driving and I was seated on the co-driver’s seat. He asked me what had really happened, and I told him the truth. We had been at kina Zippy’s, watched TV, went back to school and got busted. He then talked to me in a very calm tone. He told me that if I worked hard and was a good girl that we would one day work together in his publishing house writing books together.

That day is here! My dad is writing a book and he has asked me to read his “manuscript”, critique it, give him my thoughts on it. When it comes to writing my dad is my role model and I can’t say how humbling doing this work has been for me. So humbling that it took me really long to actually read his book because I didn’t think I would measure up to the task. I’m learning so much reading his book and I can’t wait for that book to be completed even published.

So in case you’ve been wondering what I’ve been up to lately, I’ve been editing the editor’s book.

Yeah, I just said that!

Ps. My dad did a guest post once here. Check it out.

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    • savvy08
    • August 16th, 2012

    Would love to read the book, Your dad sound so cool. Now let me read his blogpost.

    • No doubt about that. He is the coolest. Thanks for reading girl 🙂

    • Tyra
    • August 16th, 2012

    madam editor..that has a nice ring to it!! 😀 ..and no wonder you were busy “closing my eyes” with britpop links!! you so busted!!! Anyhoo Mr. Njoro is a good author, cant wait !! no wonder you can write blogs like so…..xxx

    • Ty, oh Ty. You know you are good for my ego 🙂 I know you love you some britpop :))

  1. Hi – As many others have said about your posts – you have a special gift of engaging with the reader. We also have a traditional saying that goes: the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. Best wishes with your dad’s new book

    • I’m indeed my father’s daughter. Thanks for reading Woolie. Always appreciate.

    • nikittacole
    • August 21st, 2012

    I concur. Your Dad rocks!! 🙂

    • CK
    • August 23rd, 2012

    My dear doll, Nishakushow wewe nimnoma…. Ati una edit? C’mon now… I know soon utachora mbuku ya yours just like ur dad. Keep on keepin on 😉

  2. From a promise made years ago, that was totally awesome. 🙂 All the best in the editing room.

    • Maria
    • August 30th, 2012

    :-)…I Love ur writing…So happy for u..

    • terry
    • September 2nd, 2012

    eish dee, kuandika nayo! way to go girl. (doing backflips for you). mad excitos 🙂

    • Hahaha, back flips sio? Thanks for reading Terry. We love blog visitors oh 🙂

  3. Your dad has done a guest post on your blog? O_o.. You old man rocks! 🙂

      • Shekyn
      • October 11th, 2012

      Yeah! Didn’t I already say that he rocks? 🙂 Thanks for stopping by.

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