Limo's Narratives.

 When you go to Rome, please don't do what Romans do. DON'T. In fact, don't see what Romans are doing. Or better yet, don't see Romans! No. Don't go to Rome! Put your shoes on, tie those laces, and grab your jacket to join me on this journey as I take you through the path that taught me tough lessons. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into O.R. Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg. The local time is 10:35 am, and the current temperature is [I did not get that very well]. For your safety, please return your seats and tray tables to their upright and locked positions, and ensure all carry-on luggage is stowed securely in the overhead bins or under the seat in front of you. Please remain seated until the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate and the seatbelt sign has been turned off. On behalf of Kenya Airways and the entire crew, we thank you for flying with us and hope to see you again soon. Welcome to Johannesburg!" Then th...

  Limo... Limo... Limo.... Mr. Limo! That is how I heard my name. It was faint initially, but once the school principal, Mrs. Tenai, shouted, I came back to my senses. ''Mmmh?!''..... I responded. ''Answer the question!'' she said firmly but in a hushed tone. ''What question?'' I responded. She had had enough of it and she was not going to tolerate it anymore. Her face was filled with rage and her eyes were almost popping out of their sockets. I was seated there bewildered. ''Mr. Limo, please explain to the sub-chief and this gathering why your class 6 students have been consistently performing poorly,'' the PTA chairman, Kangogo Kibet, a businessman who buys maize from the village and neighboring villages and sells them in Eldoret Town using his old Peugeot 504 pick-up, told me in a polite way. I had a lot of respect for Kangogo. A man who has been steadfast in giving a helping hand every time there was a...