He gave us the slashers. We went to our punishment site. We started from the furthest end against the block for it was obvious, if we had started from the block, time might have caught us unawares. We could easily chat with our friends in the class, when there was no teacher inside. We did not want any top up, that punishment was already enough.

By the time we approached the block, we’d hoped to finish on time, not in time. Now we slashed carelessly not minding if some grasses were thrown into the classrooms through the opened windows. After all, we loved the students’ curses.

My elder brother’s friend, Robert, who was in Form Two asked me, “Isaac, what have you done wrong?”

“Mr Kamphambe is accusing us of intent of rape.” I did not care whether others were listening.

The Form Twos laughed at us. We did not mind them. We carried on with our punishment.

Our friends in the classroom jeered at us, “Oh rapists!”

We knew there was no teacher in there. So we slashed in an effort to throw some wet sand at them. They screamed, we laughed. Then they closed the windows.

By chance, the minute the break-time bell rang, we had finished slashing and sweeping the slashed grasses. We were throwing the slashed grasses in the rubbish pit. Were we late? We did not know. We went to the head teacher to tell him we had finished our punishment. He was seated on a chair under a cassia tree, behind the administration block. He went to inspect the place. The punishment was well done. He was impressed. He told Benson to go into the administration office and ask the bursar for a black book.

I had heard of that book. Some students say that signing three times in that book meant expulsion. I was very curious to see what it looked like. I wondered what crime he would put for us? Rape? We had no intention of that. Harassment? What kind of harassment: verbal, emotional, sexual or physical, I did not know.

The book was brought. It was a mere hardcover. Our names were entered; we signed in the school black book for the first time, the book of the most condemned students at the school, I guess. He wrote our crime: barring girls from entering into classes. He had known my surname when he was writing my name into the black book.

He threatened me, “Chiwala, I will tell your relative at the education division.”

I knew it was a threat. I told him, “I don’t care.”

After all, we were not barring girls from entering into the classes. It was just a girl and it was before classes.

Tell us: Do you think they deserved the punishment, why or why not?