…we ran towards the direction of the drill ground…it was still dark under the tree canopies but the little shafts of light gave us some little support ….it was tough for the comrades…as we ran we could all hear our laboured breaths from the closest comrades and the limbs movement generally could tell of the mounting physical exhaustion….we had been subjected to inhumane conditions which we had least prepared for, but nevertheless we had to deal with it no matter the circumstances and death was not an option….we had by that time cleared the treed field and started enjoying the full moonlight…the parade ground podium was visible, but only as a dark shadow with clear outline…the first line of male barracks beyond the extreme ends of the drill ground appeared as black patches on a dark horizon background. At the back of our minds we knew that beyond those black patches was the peace that we had been searching for, for the last couple of hours…it was the freedom any one would die for under the prevailing circumstances…
The storm water drain was comfortably seated with its mouth wide open ready for any storm water from a heavy downpour, that may require to be purposefully directed…it was two metres wide masonly constructed with a smooth flat bed….the kurutus regularly cleaned it as a part of their training and keeping fit…the comrades who still had more energy jumped over, but the majority chose to jump in and crawled out…others jumped in but decided to use the drain as their escape route, running in the upstream and downstream directions…we knew for sure that at the storm water drain some comrades would definitely be hacked by those flesh hungry slashers…it would be a pity indeed for the victims, but again that was a i-wish-there-is-something-i-can-do scenario…well it was God for us all situation…
We were now crossing the main road and all of a sudden we saw a moderate crowd of shadows running from the podium. It was not difficult to guess that they were hiding from the afandes and were now running from what they thought were afandes…they were headed in the direction of the administration block and seemed that they had enough energy…they disappeared in the dark patches behind the block, but nobody really bothered where they were going after all it was each one for himself….at parade ground we were grinding the tarmacked surface with our shoes and others with bare feet…the front barracks were now nearer but pitch dark inside…going inside them was out of the question as nobody knew what and who was in there….this was risk that was not worth taking!...at that point in time there came the command…”comrades split!!!!”…yes the split was necessary as we were still many and the drill ground would form a fertile ground for further humiliation and slashing by the animals who were after us…we did the logical thing…some comrades headed straight for the barracks…the other lot headed to the extreme left where the administration block was…the third group headed in the direction facing the mlima kioko and the fourth group went to the extreme right headed to other set of barracks on the eastern side…
As we ran towards the extreme left, we could hear some noises coming from the north eastern side of the camp as the comrades and afandes sorted matters out…we crossed the rough road and entered the first line of the barracks…the ground here was very familiar and it nostalgically reminded us that previously during the passing out rehearsals we used to match along here on our way to the parade ground…only that this time round, we were running through it not to rehearse any passing out, but to save our lives….goodness gracious! How things had changed!!!..it was too quiet around the barracks…the type of silence that gnaws was what we were experiencing at that time and we could not help thinking that probably we could have ran into a trap….so we ran confidently waiting for an ambush which did not come…we further split into smaller groups and went into different directions….our group of about 20 comrades took the direction of the sewerage treatment pods…the route to the sewerage pods was bushy with scattered thorny acacia trees…the trees further left marked the line between the bushes and the playing fields…on the left hand side of the playing fields were the regulars and ncios barracks which offered a perfect escape route into the anti-stock theft unit lands….this was a permanently guarded route and only the afandes had the keys…we could hear some scuffles right ahead and whoever it was must have been running from something…either afandes running from the comrades or vice versa…either way it did not matter much, but we were cautious…
We could feel the nauceating smell of the waste water at the pods…we knew that in a short time we would reach the pods and possibly take a rest before we proceeded…it was becoming cloudy and the moon was partially covered…the path that we had chosen was no longer clearly visible and we had to enter the bushes where we thought there was an opening…some of the comrades decided that the odds were much too high on those routes and retreated into the direction of the playing fields…as we walked, the smell from the pods became stronger…about four of us were left advancing towards them pods…one comrade was injured…he had stumbled and fallen just near the storm water drain near the parade ground and had his right leg knee injured…he had kept on until just after the rough road where he could no longer run without support…I had grabbed his left hand around my neck and supported him by my right hand round his waist…although we could not run, our drift was anywhere between a walk and a run…that was good enough and he could keep up…the comrades knee was very swollen and very painful…I could tell that he was in pain by the way he was groaning even as we moved along…
All over a sudden the two comrades in front stopped and shouted “stop!!!”…it was already too late for the two of us…the inertia took us overboard and the next thing we heard was our bodies hitting the waste water in the pods…the pods were about five feet deep and the level of water was shoulder-high…the water in the pod was very cold indeed and the smell was very foul…it seemed like we had been enclosed in a gas chamber…we waded through to the edge of the pod and the two lucky comrades were not very enthusiastic in pulling us out due to our condition…we understood that…with a little bit more strain I managed to climb out..i was shaking due to the cold combining it with the wetness…all my clothes were wet and dripping with waste water…I bent over to help the comrade…his hands were very slippery and as I struggled to get him out I did not hear the two comrades shouting “run!!!”
I had just gotten the injured comrade out of the sewer pod…he was in great pain now…we were both shaking…the early morning cold was biting hard and we all very wet…as we were preparing to move on, about twelve dark shadows appeared from the thick bushes…they were moving quietly and in unison…these shadows resembled the ones we had lost in the treed field between the drill ground and the female barracks as we ran for our dear lives…their gait gave an impression of a predator closing in on an already cornered prey…we froze….we were sandwitched between the approaching people and the sewerage water pods…I was still holding the injured comrade by the waist…the afandes were standing right in front of us about six feet away looking at us viciously when a voice of one of the afandes hoarsely shouted “secu!!!”…we just looked at them for we did not know what command had been issued…the voice shouted again “secu” but this time calmly….i only had time to ask “what do…..?” when the heavy thick baton landed on my left shoulder……
...besides, the presence of a safe alone does not signify that there is money inside...