Mary Shelley conceived the idea to write the first-ever known true science fiction novel as a teenager. This is none other than the classic monster mash-up, Frankenstein. The fiction novel grew to become a huge sensation in the UK and captivated the public with its imagination and creativity.
It became a worldwide sensation in theatres and prints. The story has lived to be retold and recreated in different theatres through the years and it all began with a young teenage girl expressing her creativity on paper.
Today, fiction has grown to become the highest-grossing genres in the production industry. Series like Money Heist has become a huge sensation worldwide due to the creative minds of people like Alex Pina. Therefore we should never ignore the creative minds of the teeniez!
Even though we always have the usual ‘I woke up and jumped into the frog’s kingdom’, ‘people ran helter-skelter’ kind of phrases dominating some of these young minds, some are really creative.
To some, this will be a throwback that will trigger a lot of memories and to some, it will be ‘as usual you know’. Here are some really interesting if not hilarious fiction stories from OJ and MFA.
THE MONEY HEIST
Mike Murangiri, 304 MFA
“Wasee kuna mathegi canteen!” These are the words that made the loaf lovers skip from their seats and launch for the canteen area at a Usain Bolt like speed. It was a chilly Saturday night and the mood was electric.
We were joyously enjoying our Saturday night entertainment in the assembly hall when all the fun was cut short. It was being rumoured that a group of skilled thugs had invaded our precious canteen. Trust you me, in MFA you rather mess with something else but not the canteen! The canteen? Of all places?! What were they thinking?
As I approached the already thronged canteen area, it became clear that they were students who had made away with close to Ksh.70,000! Damn!
Those must have been some very tactical thieves! I didn’t even have an idea that the canteen could have such a large amount of cash. That was a jackpot right there! Worst of all, the boys were junior students. The only senior student was the ‘professor’. The mastermind of the whole mission.
The ‘Professor’ had been planning the heist for over 3 months. He had drawn maps of the whole area and explored all the possible access points to the canteen. He even drew out the escape routes clearly on his blueprints! This guy was a genius! He had taken time to do thorough research of the whole area.
He even knew when the canteen handed over its revenues to the school bursar and when the canteen had the most cash in the safe. Nobody knew how he had figured out all this, but everything was clear as day in his blueprints.
He, ‘the professor’ wasn’t part of the execution, he only gave out orders. There was a watch-out guy who patrolled the area while the heist was in motion. He was the CCTV on ground. There was a receiver who was supposed to collect the treasure once it came from the shop. This was the ‘transporter’. The two other guys were the ones who conducted the actual heist. They are the ones who entered the canteen and grabbed the cash. Everything was in motion, everything was going perfect. Until…
Greed got in the way. The two guys couldn’t avoid the sight of the loaves. They decided to have a fill before exiting the canteen and that caused a delay. The ‘professor’ had laid out a plan that had to be executed with punctual timelines. But they had made a mistake… The ‘professor’s’ plan was now clinging on a grass leaf in the midst of tough winter winds. They were risking everything…
As they were exiting, they had delayed the plan by ten minutes and the bell ringer was coming out to ring the 9 pm bell. He spotted one of the guys creeping out of the canteen. The plan was falling apart…
The witness rushed to the assembly hall and informed the rest of the students who rushed to the scene. Even though they managed to get away, the CCTV, the professor’s eye, had been caught. The angry pounced on him and he didn’t hesitate to call out his colleagues.
Now that was the part the ‘professor’ had failed in. He thought his plan was too perfect to fail and he didn’t plan for what happens if they were caught. The rest of the team was rounded up by the watchmen and taken to Pangani Police Station. They were then expelled from the school.
However, nobody knows where ‘Professor’ hid the money. Till today, we still wonder if he hid or buried it somewhere within the school compound. I remain hopeful that one day I will be lucky enough to…
A DAY NOT TO BE FORGOTTEN
Stephen Wambua 204 OJ
I could tell from the whirling morning wind that my day would be disastrous. My family members and I woke up to the crack of pots and pans that morning. The long-awaited day had finally arrived. It was my sister’s wedding day. After we had finished preparing ourselves, we left the house.
Father coughed the engine back to life. After buckling our seatbelts we left for church. Palm and coconut trees swayed rhythmically from side to side. The birds chirped to their melodious voices. The blue sky was azure and the sun was glinting. Wow! My head was swinging in the pristine and pure air. Father drove the car at a dare-devil speed in order to avoid getting to church late. After a wink of an eye, we had reached Winner’s Chapel.
The old woman sang traditional songs that praised the bride, who was my lovely sister. She was long-awaited for by all and sundry. In a spur of a moment, two limousines arrived. Brilliant! Fabulous! Magnificent! Flamboyant! The two cars looked as expensive as glory and they shone gold. It was the bridegroom, Kingsley, who had arrived.
He matched black from top to bottom except for the shirt which was snow white. He was in a checked tuxedo suit. The other limousine had the bride in it. Superb! The bride looked so gorgeous with a beautiful hair-do and a long white Cinderella dress. She really caught the attention of many in the church.
Eventually, the bride walked down the aisle with her parents. The bridegroom was also called by the Bishop since it was their time to exchange vows. The two looked at each other with their mesmerizing eyes. It was not long ago that we started hearing gunshots!
Alas and alack! The church was infested by a gang of robbers who were in black! They lobbed grenades as people scampered for safety. Oh no! Two gunshots hit the pastor in the chest. We could not believe our eyes, he had gone to the world of no return.
He was a man of substance, a role model and a mentor to many. We had lost a gem, a precious jewel. Women and children screamed and ran into hiding, clambering and cowering over each other.
The gunmen were masculine, gigantic and gargantuan that one would think their hobby was squeezing water from stones. Others had bulging muscles that looked as if they had spent their life in the gymnasium.
My heart palpitated radically like millet in a mortar. Tufts of coarse hair sprouted erratically behind my ears as melancholy surged in me, “Had the devil paid us a courtesy call?” Thousands of rhetorical questions crisscrossed my entangled encephalon. What I saw made my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. A human being was hacked to death before my very own eyes.
My feverish lips trembled and turned death-pale. I tried to catch a good glimpse of my sister, but all I could see was tears of agony, devastation and depression. I prayed to the Almighty Deity for help but it seemed like His computers were not channelled to my station.
The gunmen were as merciless as Othello since they shot anyhow. One of the gunmen who had a protruding head and a wrinkled face threw two hefty blows that caught my innocent face sending me to kiss the ground.
Hues and cries hovered around the environment. The Bishop and the groom were shot dead by the gunmen. They stole jewellery and all the electrical appliances from people not forgetting that they also went with the two limousines. My family members were so devastated including the bride whose fear turned to anger.
“Why was I born? My husband has died on our wedding day. Why! Why me?” My sister exclaimed with tears of melancholy falling down her cherubic chubby cheeks. Momentarily, the police arrived. We never had an idea about who had called them.
The casualties were taken to the nearby hospital and the dead were put on the ambulance. People moaned and groaned in dire need of sympathy.
After some minutes, we all exited the church full of agony and sorrow. That was a day that will remain instilled in my mind like a crucifix on an archbishop’s neck. For sure, life is neither a bowl of cherries nor a bed of roses.
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