SAMPLE IMAGINATIVE COMPOSITIONS.

1. Write a story beginning with the following statement: It was dawn and
the birds were singing their usual morning songs and here I was
wondering....

It was dawn and the birds were singing their usual morning songs and here I was
wondering whether to rise up from the bed or continue to relish the overwhelming
comfort of my bed. I had only acquired it the previous week and I had entertained the
notion of endlessly lying in it. I stretched my feet until they touched the tip of the bed
and I inhaled the intoxicating newness of the fine linen with my arms spread wide. That
is when the tips of the fingers of my right hand touched something cold and I
instinctively recoiled. What was it? In the darkness, I frantically groped for the bedside
switch and flicked it on and stared at the face of my alarm clock in horror. It was six
o’clock! I was late!
The contraption had not chimed yet I had set it for five o’clock! I was a pilot with Kenya
Airways and I was expected to fly the latest and newest airbus, a sleek state of the art
acquisition, to Amsterdam at eight o’clock that morning. I had barely two hours to
prepare. What could I do? I sat bolt upright in bed, flung off the bed-spread, sprang up
like a maniac and crashed into bathroom. As I switched on the hot shower and the
pleasantly warm water covered my entire being in seconds, I heard my mobile phone
ringing in the bedroom. Blindly wiping water from my wet face, I fumbled for the door
knob and lumbered into the bedroom. Upon reaching the dressing table, I grabbed the
phone and barked into it. The voice that burst from the earpiece sent a tremor down my
spine. It was my boss. He wanted to know why I was shouting at him instead of being at
my work station going through my flight plans. The phone fell from my nerveless fingers
and split into pieces on the pieces on the titled floor.
The next thing I knew, I was frantically dressing in my pilot’s attire, picked my travelling
bag next to the bed and headed for the front door. When I stepped on the neatly kept
lawn, I discovered to my utter consternation that I had no shoes. I cursed! I dropped the
bag on the doorstep and rushed headlong into the bedroom, grabbed a pair of shoes
which I had placed under my armpit and dashed out again. I headed for the garage and
quickly reversed my sports car out of it. I was about to drive out of the gate which was
thankfully held open by the guard when I noticed through the side mirror, my travelling
bag still lying on the doorstep. I flung the driver’s door open and sprinted to the house’s
entrance only to the bag missing! On turning, I saw my guard standing by the open door
of my car with the travelling bag tagged under his arm grinning sheepishly. The fool!
When I finally gunned the car out of the gate, I did not bother to check for on-coming
traffic on the main road. I swung the car into the left lane and sped towards the city.
That is when I saw them. A group of six traffic policemen were waving me to stop and
two of them were literally standing in the middle of the road. I did the unthinkable! I
accelerated towards them with my full lights on and leaning hard on the car horn. They
must have imagined I was suicidal. The last thing I saw was the sudden diving of the
policemen into pools of dirty water next to the road. I was in the clear! I saw the airport
gate from a distance.
I sighed with relief. I must have involuntarily accelerated instead of slowing down
because the next thing I heard was the heavy impact of the car wheels on something
hard and the car soared into the air like a giant ship riding on the heavy swells on the
ocean. The bumps! I had completely forgotten about them! When I finally landed on
firm ground again, the car lay astride the road facing nowhere in particular with me
trapped behind the wheel in a daze. The engine was off. I tried to switch it on in vain. It
had stalled! I lay my head on the wheel and wept bitterly.
2. Write an interesting composition ending with the following words: “.. I
finally heard the gunshot, I instinctively closed my eyes and waited for
the impact.”

My boss walked into my office that chilly Thursday morning unannounced and
saw the open briefcase of bank notes lying on my mahogany desk. His lower lip
dropped in shock and he visibly shook with suppressed anger. When his gaze
finally settled on my cringing pathetic figure, he barked out: “I want that money
out of here this very moment! Do you hear? No excuses! How you do it is your
damn business!”
“Yes-s-s, sir.” I blurted out. “Right away, sir!”
He glared at me one last time and strode out violently banging the door behind
him. I was left in a daze, not bothering to move.

I was supposed to bank the money the previous day but forgot about it after my
colleague bought me a sumptuous lunch and took the better part of the
afternoon. By the time I knew it, it was late and all the banks had closed. I quickly
stuffed the suitcase in a black paper bag and dashed out of the office block
through a back door and headed for the city in my red Volvo saloon car. All I
thought about for a while was the aftermath of my behavior. My boss was that
temperamental type that went exploding and sometimes making irrational
decisions. What will I face this time round? The more I thought of it the more I
shuddered with fear.

Then I saw it! A black saloon car that sat on my tail like an extension of my own
car. I had to be sure! I maneuvered in and out of traffic and even thought for a
while that I had lost it. But no! The driver of the other car matched every move I
made. Then I gave myself up by breaking all the traffic rules. Above the hooting
and curses of the exasperated motorists, I heard a police siren at a distance.
Within minutes, there were sirens all over the place as if police cars were
converging on that spot where we were. The other driver gave up the chase and
peeled off my tail and vanished into a side street thus alerting the hawk-eyed
police officers.

After a harrowing moment, I found myself at a cull-de-sac, albeit an artificial one,

when right ahead, I saw a police van blocking the entire street. About a dozen
guns were aimed at my car as I came to an abrupt halt. Then we all heard it!
Another car had just rounded the opposite corner and banged hard into the
parked police van. I was no longer the center of attraction as all the guns
suddenly swung towards the new intrusion. I slowly crawled out of the driver’s
seat clutching my briefcase and lay flat on my belly underneath the police van.

Then from the corner of my eye, I saw a nearby police car with an officer in the
driver’s seat. In the confusion that ensued, as the occupants of the black car
were getting arrested, I inched towards the police car, gently opened the back
door and sneaked in the behind the driver. How could I get him to drive? An idea
occurred to me! I removed my spectacles and suddenly pressed them hard
against the back of his neck, and whispered viciously into his ear: “Drive right
now if you value your life. I say, now!” He stiffened for a while then powered the
engine. I pressed some more and menacingly gestured towards the opposed
 direction from the commotion. “Drive you fool or I will blow off your head!” I
hissed
. The driver did not need any more prompting. He swung the car around slowly
and carefully drove off. I kept barking instructions as we made good our escape.
Then I heard him laugh hysterically and he turned for a while to look at me.
“Spectacles! I’ve been threatened with spectacles! Wait until the guys at the
station come to hear of this!” That is when I realized he had noticed what was
pressed against his neck through the driver’s mirror. How foolish had I been! This
was getting worse.

. Then I had a revelation. I slowly removed the briefcase from the paper bag and
opened it, revealing its contents as the car came to a halt. The door was yanked
open and the policeman saw the wads of bank notes and exclaimed loudly. “Jesus
Christ! This is a bloody bank!” Then he ordered me out of the car. I was staring at
the ugly barrel of a gun and I saw the man’s fore-finger inching deliberately
towards the trigger. It was so close! I dropped my head in submission until my
chin touched my chest. When I finally heard the gunshot, I instinctively closed my
eyes and waited for the impact. #THE END#

3. Write a story that ends: It then dawned on me that perhaps this is why I
had been born.

LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

I had just arrived from work and was preparing my supper in my exotic basement
kitchen. I was exhausted and all I wanted was a royal nap. I carried the pieces of
sandwich to my sitting room and embarked on watching the evening news.
A girl, six years old had gone missing and the last time she was seen she was next to
the mysterious church neighbouring my storey building. I was intrigued and determined
to unearth the mystery behind her missing. Something inside me told me there was
something fishy about the ‘church’. I thus decided to keep it under constant surveillance
hoping to use it as a start to probe the girl’s unexplained disappearance.
I was a detective about to retire and I had a pistol given to me as a retirement present. I
loaded it and headed for the church. Form a far I could see a fleet of posh cars in the
compound and wondered why only those who seemed rich were the only ones gaining
entry and why at night?
The gateman stopped me and asked me to identify myself. The spiky club in his hand
sent uncontrollable tremors down my spine. I wondered what to say but finally, I
produced my work permit and told him I was on official duty and he let me in. I stuck my
gun under my jacket and whispered a prayer to my Maker.
When I gained entry into the building, it was nearly full and I did not want to attract
undue attention. I thought of taking a seat and that seemed to be an extremely
hilarious idea. I sat next to an elderly woman who did not seem to notice that I was
beside her. I was not surprised.
Everybody was busy praying I was perplexed and only opened my eyes wide to make
sure nothing passed unnoticed. Suddenly, the man at the dais who was clad in a royal
blue suit ordered everybody quiet and announced that the long awaited moment had
arrive. Their ‘god’ would feel extremely blessed to have such a congregation. I did not
decipher the meaning and I only watched as he walked across the platform with his
walking stick which to me was not to aid him in walking but rather a statement of
fashion; a declaration of his own superiority.
He announced that they were very blessed that year and felt obliged to give thanks to
their maker. He surely deserved an outstanding sacrifice. At that juncture, two heavily
built men emerged from a swinging door with a relatively huge parcel and placed it on
the altar. I was amazed at the church’s organization.
“This is our harvest this year and we are glad to appreciate what ‘god’ has given us. As
usual we are going to have one member split it into pieces so that everybody can have
his or her own piece to offer to his or her lord. Ladies and gentlemen, can we have a
volunteer.”
A crowd scrambled from their seats towards the altar and the lady next to me almost
toppled over. The ‘preacher’ chose one lady whom to me seemed very petite and I was
amazed by her elegance and gait. I was instantly smitten and my mind was boggled
with innumerable thoughts. I was dying with anxiety
Now, can you do our lord the honour?” She was just about to lower a shiny sword she
held sky high when a shrill cry tore through the building. I did not quite
comprehend from which direction but it occurred to me the cry was from the
parcel. My heart banged against my ribs and beads of sweat formed on my
forehead. I stood on impulse and ordered the lady, “Wait!” The silence that ensued was
speaking volumes. Fear creeped into me and my bowels felt loose. My legs gave way.
Everybody turned my direction as I headed towards the altar. Upon reaching, I took a
brief glance at the parcel and extended my hand to undo it. The preacher
slapped me straight in the face blurring my vision. All sorts of objects were hurled at
me at an instant. I then knew that trouble was just about to shoot. I had to fight for my
survival. Everybody was on me with fists, blows and slaps. I made up my mind not to
spare anyone or else I would die with my little parcel. I fired furiously all round me.
Blood was oozing like a river and wails filled the building. Those who were fearful ran
out of the ‘church’ and I was left alone with the wounded lot. I shakingly opened the
parcel. The girl! I rang the police and asked for an ambulance with immediate effect. As
the police worked with zealous determination on the wailing maniacs, I smiled at the
girl. She smiled back – a smile filled with warmth and appreciation. I had saved her life.
“Uncle, it is like a bad dream come to an end. A new day has dawned on me and with it
a new lease of life. I know there is light even at the end of the darkest tunnel” she told
me. It then dawned on me that perhaps this is why I had been born.

4. Write a story illustrating the saying: “As you make your bed, so my you lie on it.”
AS YOU MAKE YOUR BED, SO MUST YOU LIE ON IT
I gazed in the far off Eastern horizon as the sun descended leisurely, maybe
oblivious of how man was now destroying what he had made in the last forty
years since independence. I then sighed with relief and thanked the Almighty
once more that I was safe and sound. Hell had broken loose and everybody was
on his heels scrambling for safety.
It all began as a joke. Though I could not imagine my mother country
falling back to ashes, it was beyond my control to reverse the inevitable. The
politicians had also been warned on many occasions not to break the racial
spleen between the citizens. Due to their malice and high affinity for higher posts
 in the government, they had all given deaf ears to their advisors and sowed
seeds of discord among the communities
With the shreds of tenderness broken between different communities, there were
tribal clashes. As if a premonition for the bigger match, a national crisis broke
immediately the disputed presidential results were announced. Nationwide,
members of different ethnic groups began falling for each others throats. Youth
erected barriers on the highways and railway lines were dismantled to paralyze
transportation. Everything was in a mess as the police who came in to aid the
victims exchanged fire with the rioters.
We had to run with my dear brothers and sisters. Run to the distant lands for
cover. But was it as swift as it seems? No sooner had my siblings packed up
some pieces of clothing than a marauding gang of youth attacked us. Despite the
family ties that bound us together, I had to say everybody for himself and God for
us all.
My being a girl could not deter me from this once a lifetime opportunity. I had to
take off like the retired renowned Kenyan athlete, Kipchoge Keino. At last I had
made away. Lucky enough I bumped into a parade of soldiers. I knew I was safe
and safe indeed. As I write I don’t know if my family was carried away by the
cloud of violence. I only appreciate that I am an I.D despite the problems that we
go through.
Keeping in mind that, the problem at hand came about due to some people’s
malice, then, the ball is in their court to find the solution. The politicians who
fuelled the tribal clashes as well as loss of lives and property should be
advocated against. They have to lie on the beds they made, don’t they?

5. Write a story illustrating the saying: “A good name is better than

riches.”

A GOOD NAME IS BETTER THAN RICHES

Every Tom, Dick and Harry in the village knew John Medusa. He was the renowned
businessman who owned about a half of the village so to speak. However, this was not
what he was most known for. His unscrupulous and mean character took this credit. The
mere mention of his name would make any villager’s face contort with disgust.
Adding to his mean character, he had a habit of laying off workers without any notice.
His many servants thus lived in perpetual fear knowing that a summon to his expansive
office was all that was needed to bring one’s life crashing down with the force of a
meteorite.
The morning was bright as the birds chirped and fluttered boisterously in the garden
just adjacent to John’s office. The door to the office flung open and out walked James
Murati. A mere look at his visage would have told anyone all that had transpired. Murati,
one of John’s workers, had just been fired without notice. To add insult to injury, John
had withheld his two- months’ play which until now he had not received.
Murati’s life took a nosedive and from that day he had to struggle to get the bare
essentials. Many times he found himself rummaging through dustbins for leftovers. But
one character in him that distinguished him from any man was his determination and
high moral standards. Though poor, he never succumbed to crime which many of his
poor friends saw as a gateway to riches. Everyone in the village knew this and
respected him for it.
The elections drew nigh and with them and aura of sheer excitement. It was in one of
the election rallies that someone suggested, jokingly, that Murati should vie in the
oncoming elections. Murati at first dismissed the suggestion knowing he was too poor to
finance the campaigns needed. But deep within, he wanted to help his people who lived
in abject poverty. Little by little he came to make the decision that would forever
change his life. He would vie for the seat come what may.
And so with only his word to give, he began his campaign. His competitors at first
brushed aside the challenger with contempt but soon the smiles on their countenances
curved given that everyone knew
he sorted matters out. “May I speak to the Chief Justice, please... Yes, I have just
received a shocking revelation connected to the disappearance of the honorable
Minister... I have confirmed that he was kidnapped! ... No ... No ... traced the location.
The caller put his price for the release of the honorable Minister to be your highness,
Judge Candian the wife to the Minister... of course because of her ruling! Must be one of
those who escaped.... yes, please tell her to remain abroad. Beef up the security, we are
going to take stern steps to take their locations I’ll brief you if I make successful steps,”
He suddenly hung up and looked relieved.
Security heightened! Checks along the highway were beefed up. There was tension in
the city for three days consecutively. Rumours flew around that Minister’s body had
been found in Rothschild forest. It was confirmed not to be true. Somewhere in the city,
people and wailing citizens became apprehensive and they demanded to know what
was going on in the country.
Having served as a magistrate for seven years, my mother had been appointed a high
court Judge by the President. She had dealt with many cases and had often complained
of a security threat to her life. Never before did I consider this to be true. It dawned on
me that indeed, even at my own tender age I was in danger.
I never thought that his particular evening was going to make me a happy boy. The
evening news flash carried in its headlines the revelation. My dad had been found in
some thick tsetse fly infested area and his captors had been arrested. The telephone
rang. Its sharp sonorous tone almost made me deaf. “Hi, Jim this is Mummy. I will be
flying back to the country tomorrow. Say hi, to Penina. Goodnight.” I thought I was in a
trance when my sister came and hugged me. I felt extremely jovial. As if proof by some
unseen force, we ran to the car and drove off to the media centre. I have never been so
happy in my life.
6. Write a story ending with the following sentence: I have never been so
happy in my life.

THE FATE OF A SEPARATED FAMILY

The sun drew closer and there was another daybreak. My mind was subdued by an
impending attack from our neighbouring tribe, the Musilano. Rumours spread that the
Musilano tribe had threatened to
clear out our tribe, the Gusilano. Reason, they wanted back their land which they
claimed our tribe had settled on. I was by then twelve years old and understood
everything that went on. Every night I and my other younger siblings who were four in
total huddled beside my mother while my father, like the other men, patrolled at the
valley watching out for anything unusual.
The most dreadful night somehow came to be. We were woken up by wild screams,
which came directly from the valley. We had not time to pack any of our belonging.
Everything was tops turvy and the village was in turmoil. Women and children were
running in all directions. My mother told us not to leave her side no matter what
happened. The only place we could think of hiding was the banana plantation which was
approximately half a kilometre away. My mother encouraged us on.
We were amongst the lucky few who were able to make it to the banana plantation. We
could still hear screams of distress and pain from a distance. The blood gashing
moment lasted for about an hour then everything went dead silent. We moved deep
into the plantation far from where we could easily be spotted. We could not risk cooking
as smoke could attract the attackers. By good luck the bananas were ripening and so at
least we could have something to keep us going.
One day after the incident my mother sought to go and find what had taken place. It
was soon dusk and no one had returned. Imagining my life without my mother was the
last thing I could ever fathom. At day break I decided to move on with our journey since
the attackers might have killed our mother and were coming for us. It was the most
terrifying moment in my life. I was duty bound to take care of my siblings just like my
mother did. Though it took us one week, we were able to clear through the banana
plantation and to the border of our country. The United Nations who were evacuating
people and also deploying peace keepers came across us and saved us from the blade
of a sword.
At the refugee camp life was not that easy. It was cold at night, diseases were rampant
and my siblings were always nagging with questions where our mother and father were.
The only answer I had was that they were coming soon. The United Nations sought to
relocate families that were separated. I registered our names and our parents’ names.
After about a month, when almost all our hopes had faded, the officials had found our
parents. It was disbelief that all these were happening. I was thankful to God for his
protection and for bringing back our parents alive. Sincerely, I have never been so
happy in my life.
I must have been so enervated that I fell asleep without knowing. It still surprises me
how I could have slept on a cold bare floor. I was woken up by shrill sirens. After a short
while, a policeman opened my cage and assured me that everything was alright. How
could I trust him after my ordeal the previous night?” “Stupid policeman!” I muttered to
myself. It was not long before I realized that I had actually been saved by genuine
policemen.
My parents were called to the depot and they hugged me fondly. They had been so
worried about my whereabouts. One policeman identified me as the winner of the
lottery after he had read a newspaper that bore the previous day’s date. He then
ordered the money recovered to be handed over to me. I was unaware that the culprits’
money had also been given to me since there was no time for counting. This depot was
where the culprits, who had been apprehended, hid their stolen money. On arriving
home, I noticed the error and began to call the police headquarters only for my father to
stop me. He told me, “Son, you deserve all this money for the inconveniences. Besides,
you could give me the extra money if you don’t want it!”
I started a new life in two ways. Firstly, I became very wealthy. Secondly, I began
viewing my father as a whole new being. The respect I had for him had vanished
completely. These events will forever linger in my mind.

7. Write a composition illustrating the proverb: “Experience is the best

teacher.”

EXPERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER

When I left home that bright Sunday afternoon, I did not realize that the events of the
next few days would completely change my life. I vividly remember the bubbly
excitement coursing through my veins as I jumped into my father’s car anticipating the
arrival at my destination. It was the eve of my first official day in campus-utter bliss! My
father dropped me at my new hall of residence and I felt as though I had walked right
into a fantasy.
Elimu law Cumpus was the institution in which I was officially a member, “I object, Your
honour...” were the words that kept running through my mind ad I envisioned myself in
five years to come. I settled into my new room as I awaited the arrival of my roommate-
yet another cause for excitement. That wait was not long and in a jiffy, Njeri (as she was
called) and I had struck a chord. The excitement had now sobered into acceptance and I
turned in early in preparation for orientation the following day.
Orientation was fun and I got to learn the names of a few of my classmates. We went for
lunch together later in the day then dispersed to attend to our various activities.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I wondered where Njeri had been during orientation
because she was clearly not in the lecture hall with the rest of us. For the two days Njeri
was nowhere to be seen and in the spirit of being my sister’s keeper, I resolved to
report her absence to the relevant authorities.
“Apiyo, kindly report to the Dean’s office immediately.” This was the message delivered
to me by my lecturer. Humbly I walked out of class and hurried to the office in
puzzlement. My bafflement was short lived and was soon replaced by terror. I was
informed that Njeri’s lifeless body had been found at the Arboretum after having
hanged herself. From the look on the dean’s face, this was true. Not one cracks such
jokes with such a creased brow anyway.
They took my statement as I was the last person who saw her alive. In her suicide note,
she said she had been defiled and could not live with herself any longer. I sought
permission to be excused from class on that day and I went straight back to my hostel
and contracted. I then went ahead to set the room back to rights the police having been
there. In a wrath-driven adrenalin rush, I sat on my bed and wrote a lengthy article on
the abuse of women’s rights. No sooner had I put my pen down that my parents walked
into the room.
My father, a sculptured figure indeed, stood debonair and controlled as ever as I wept
on my mother’s shoulder. After I had composed myself, my parents and I talked the
matter over. Having ascertained I would be fine, my parents left. I was too shaken to
notice that my article had gone missing.
The following day I received my approving glances and as I did not understand them, I
proceeded with my normal routine. I was brought out of my oblivion by one of my
classmates who opened a page on the local dailies and there in bold, fine print was my
article. I smiled as I realized what my parents had done. They had given a voice to my
opinion. Later in the day, I received a call and was informed that the United Nations had
read the article on the Internet and were offering me internship. Truly, every cloud has
a silver lining. In a sense, Njeri’s demise changed my life for the better for I currently
work for the United Nations.
gone for Elizabeth whereas I loved Dorah with all my heart. This was the time to pay for
my dishonesty. Deno, Dorah’s brother came to me and without a word struck me hard
on the face sending me sprawling on the holy ground.
It is then that I woke up and found myself sitting on my bed in my room. I looked around
to see John, my roommate, in vain. I realized I was sweating profusely. That is when I
realized it was merely a dream.
8. Write a composition ending with the following words: My actions had
saved her.

THE PLANE CRASH

It was my first time. I had got a chance to fly to Cuba. I could see the clouds, they
looked just like wool only it seemed as if some spell held them in the sky. My neighbour
was a little girl and besides her was another teenager, much older and seriously reading
a book. I could not quite tell which book it was and after all I did not care.
I lay my head back on my seat and fell asleep. I was woken by a vibrant movement on
the plane and then a scream. Shocked, I opened my eyes and there I saw death move
closer to me. I held tight on my seat belt. The trees passed by too fast yet I did not hear
any signal from the speakers saying we were not about to land.
The hurling from the plane’s engine grew louder. I could not face the reality that was
about to be and I closed my eyes. I felt the little girl cry and I opened my eyes to her.
She couldn’t get her seat belts on and I tried to help, at all times looking out of the
window and each time I got more and more scared. All I could see now were rocks and
slopes and I felt the vibrating plane break its wings. I finally got the seat belt on her and
lay back shaking terribly.
A warning from the cockpit, then it happened. We shook and went into the trees.
Breakages followed by the sound of glass and steel crushing into wood and rock. A loud
explosion followed.
I woke up. The sun was not visible to me. I looked around and only saw vague images.
After sometime, I was able to see clearly. I was on my seat and so were the other two
but the plane had broken into two.
The little girl was silent but her sister was not. She cried, blood oozing from her
forehead. A dog appeared. My heart skipped a beat. As it moved closer, I knew it could
attack but it only barked. Then two well-built men appeared. “Are you guys alright?” I
could not answer. I feared for the little girl. “I think so” a sound replied. It was her. So
the girl was alive and not dead! My actions had saved her.
9. Write a composition illustrating the saying: “Honesty is the best policy.”

HONESTY IS THE BEST POLICY

Matata was born in a family of six. Right from the cradle, his parents who were very
affluent provided for all his needs until he grew into a handsome young man.
Unfortunately, their son had one major weakness – he was a big time liar! Mr. and Mrs.
Sumba being devoted Christians cautioned him severally against his dishonest
tendencies but their advice fell on deaf ears. Apparently their son had thrown caution to
the wind and therefore had no time for their advice.
When he was admitted to Excel High School, Matata’s whoolly-headed character did not
take long to surface. However, teachers could not stomach his bad behaviour. As they
say, good manners is the fabric that holds a community together. Both the teachers and
the Sumbas combined forces to bring him on the right track but all their efforts were
futile. The boy was ever cheating in examinations, stealing other students’ property and
engaging in all sorts of mischief. The school administration decided to use unorthodox
methods of punishment: uprooting tree stumps-all to no avail. Somehow they allowed
him to go through the system thanks to the champions of children rights.
Then came the time for the national examination. Matata and his other wayward
colleagues smuggled foreign material into the examination hall from which they
foolishly copied. The examination body was committed to excellence and on detecting
the anomaly cancelled the results of Matata and several other students who had
cheated. Cheating in examinations must stop!
Matata’s parents were beside themselves with rage. They decided that this time battle
lines had to be drawn. So worked up was Mr. Sumba that he told his son in no uncertain
terms that unless he changed, he would have to move out of his house and fend for
himself.
Once a mother, always a mother. Mrs. Sumba swallowed her pride and secured for her
son a job in an enterprising insurance firm. A few coins exchanged hands and Matata
found himself at the helm of the firm’s management in the accounts department.
Hardly had he settled that his old self resurfaced. It was soon realized that the
institution was undergoing a serious financial deficit and the fault was traced to Matata.
He had been secretly misappropriating the company’s funds. He was immediately
arrested, arraigned in court and charged with embezzlement of public funds. His
academic qualification was also put to question. When the ruling was done, Matata
earned himself ten years in jail. On hearing this, he broke into tears. He tried to
remember his parents’ warnings and the teachers’ pleas but it was too late.
Suddenly, it dawned on him that dishonesty does not pay. Surely, honesty is the best
policy.

10. Write a composition ending with the statement: That is when I realized it was
merely a dream.
WHAT A DREAM!
“Is there anybody among the congregation who is ready to oppose the marriage
of the two?” The priest of the Holy Basilica Church intoned. The hearts within our
chests pounded hysterically as the priest’s word penetrated through the ears
of the attentive congregation. How much I wished that the silence would rule
the church forever. But my wish was never to be .
“Yes There is” A voice came from behind the church as everyone present turned
to see who the person spoiling their celebration-to- be was. I was hypnotized
beyond words. With Dorah at hand, we turned systematically, a cold shiver
running down my spine. I was tongue-tied and the breath inside me was
almost insufficient. I could not believe my eyes when I saw Elizabeth
walking majestically with Jimmy, our son, to the platform.
 I almost jumped out of my skin and I remembered her. The recollection of
what we used to do in Nigeria came alive again. I thought of the colourful
customary wedding we had together while in Nigeria and I cursed the moment
my eyes met her. I wondered who on earth had briefed her that I was wedding
Dorah. Elizabeth walked straight to the altar.
She confidently spurt out, “This is my husband Stephanie. We were married
two years ago under a customary wedding in Nigeria before he flew back here
promising to come back but he disappeared mysteriously never to surface again.
A friend of mine sent an e-mail informing me of this wedding. This is our son
Jimmy and here is our certificate of marriage”.
As soon as she finished her painful rendition, I was wet with sweat. My fiancée
Dorah was in tears and almost in a trance. She was lost for words. “Is this true
Stephanie?” the priest asked. I did not know what to say but the truth had to be
told. I had followed two birds at the same time and it now seemed I was losing
both. I looked around and noticed that all eyes were on me. Everybody was dying
to hear what I was to say. It was so quiet that even a pin drop could be heard.
“Yes…it is true.” I got the courage to speak out. Dorah dropped in a heap and
lost consciousness. Everything was in a mess as my friends and relatives left the
church in utter disbelief. The bride had to be rushed to hospital immediately. I
regretted having gone for Elizabeth whereas I loved Dorah with all my
heart. This was the time to pay for my dishonesty. Deno, Dorah’s brother
came to me and without a word struck me hard on the face sending me
sprawling on the holy ground. It is then that I woke up and found myself sitting
on my bed in my room. I looked around to see John, my roommate, in vain. I
realized I was sweating profusely. That is when I realized it was merely a
dream.

11. Write a story that ends: I have never been so happy in my life.

KIDNAPPED
Robinson Chunga, the director of the State Investigations Bureau tapped off
the dish of his glowing cigarette and looked blankly, thoughtfully into space. He
was a tall dry man with a pair of protruding eyes that seemed to warn. Many
people shrank even at the mention of his name while some said that he had
undergone a mysterious operation at Neta. He carried himself with an air of
secrecy and immense intelligence.
My sister and I were in his office. My father, the Minister of State for
Internal Affairs, had gone missing. My mum had travelled abroad. The
telephone rang. Mr. Chunga hesitated but reluctantly picked it up.
“State Investigations Center?”.
“Yes, please, Chunga speaking. May I help you?”
“We, have him! I mean. The Minister…..He is not being co-operative anyway, and
we might resort to killing him….yes, his wife, we need her, she sentenced us to
life imprisonment….but….we managed to escape so that was our price….the
high Court Judge! Be fast man, make a deal and you will soon have your Minister
back!...”
Mr. Robinson banged the phone and began pacing in the room. The telephone
had been on a loud alert and we had heard it for ourselves. Tears rolled down my
cheeks. Something, somewhere was definitely not right. Here was an individual
demanding for my mum’s blood, to release my dad. Deep inside my heart, I
knew that these were my last days on earth. Probably, I was wrong, may
be, I was right.
Robinson Chunga reached his phone. He knew exactly what to do. He requested
us to remain calm as he sorted matters out. “May I speak to the Chief Justice,
please… Yes, I have just received a shocking revelation connected to the
disappearance of the honorable Minister… I have confirmed that he was
kidnapped! … No … No … traced the location. The caller put his price for the
release of the honorable Minister to be your highness, Judge Candian the wife to
the Minister… of course because of her ruling! Must be one of those who
escaped…. yes, please tell her to remain abroad. Beef up the security, we are
going to take stern steps to take their locations I’ll brief you if I make successful
steps.” He suddenly hung up and looked relieved. Security heightened! Checks
along the highway were beefed up.
There was tension in the city for three days consecutively. Rumours flew around
that Minister’s body had been found in Rothschild forest. It was confirmed not to
be true. Somewhere in the city, people and wailing citizens became apprehensive
and they demanded to know what was going on in the country. Having served as
a magistrate for seven years, my mother had been appointed a high court Judge
by the President. She had dealt with many cases and had often complained
of a security threat to her life.
Never before did I consider this to be true. It dawned on me that indeed, even at
my own tender age I was in danger. I never thought that his particular evening
was going to make me a happy boy. The evening news flash carried in its
headlines the revelation. My dad had been found in some thick tsetse fly infested
area and his captors had been arrested. The telephone rang. Its sharp sonorous
tone almost made me deaf.
“Hi, Jim this is Mummy. I will be flying back to the country tomorrow. Say hi,
to Penina. Goodnight.”
I thought I was in a trance when my sister came and hugged me. I felt extremely
jovial. As if proof by some unseen force, we ran to the car and drove off to the
media centre. I have never been so happy in my life.