Undo

 

Parent’s day at the kindergarten was precious. Abasiga mukama kindergarten had its parent’s day on Sunday. We, the parents were not quite ourselves in several ways, we were thrown into the fray, this was the space for redeeming our iterations of what exactly we have preached was best to get this result and that. We failed miserably, the rules were different, the temperament distorted and the guile abstracted by inadequate shortcuts. There was no basis for applying our dexterity to anything here, it was all a matter for our fates. That was very worrying especially.

 

So it went that, first the tug of war. We pulled at a rope from either side, grinning foolishly as it was apparent neither side was hoping to win, running in sacks half worried of the agreeable look the kids were giving us, knowing they wanted very much for us to tumble and then finally playing an exhausting round of twenty minute football without any scores-just a host of breathless, panting, and physically degraded men and women holding to the fence to catch breath. The problem was that we were so many players in the field, I don’t remember when I last played football in a field with over 20 aside. It must have been S1 when we played makola (the ball specially made by wrapping a condom with polythene).

 

This match was merged with a lot of confusion; you couldn’t remember the people on your side.

 

OR whether the people rushing to attack you were really intent on only getting the ball from you or out to really lash at you a top range exhibition tackle. The match was a drag, there was no progress, just a mass of heavy figures jostling amongst themselves. Mass after mass convened around a ball, in the aftermath lay several, others trudged on to merge again like rugby players hot on a scrum. So when 15 minutes came none of the parents regretted leaving the football pitch.

 

All in all the children had a great time, only disappointed in their parents lack of any skill in play. We sat in the tent to drink soft drinks and let the experts a go at the real thing. I, well, can’t say it was disappointing, it was meaningful once again. The parents were better coaches it appeared, they anticipated the opponents tactics, threw in cursory slots of commentary to the players, distracting them for a while and even recommended a change in some of field players, and its an understatement to say the kids were really disgusted with our presence, we were interfering in the good game. The kids had their rules; a ball that rose so far out of reach of the goalkeeper’s stretch was not counted. Tackling wasn’t exactly a crime and scoring in the wrong goal only made things more interesting. For once that Sunday 15 minutes was spent well watching touché football.

 

The kids were surprise singers too. I have always hummed the lyrics of the song “tumu tendereze yesu” but never come around to learning the words, the kids didn’t bother to learn the words either, they replaced them with their own words no one could decipher. They sang good, If I hummed along it sounded right though they made it hard for me to remember the exact words this time for a sing along.

 

After that they ate food, then speeches…. phew! Are they that long also in Kindergarten? And home we went.