THE NEW KID
730 Words
The schoolyard was a swirl of noise and activity. Children ran in every direction, their laughter and shouts blending into a chaotic symphony. Odeny stood at the edge of the yard, clutching his tattered backpack. His uniform, secondhand but neatly pressed by Amina that morning, felt stiff against his skin.
“Don’t let them see your fear,” his mother’s voice echoed in his mind. But it was hard to look confident when everything around him felt so foreign.
A bell rang, sharp and loud, silencing the chatter. The students scrambled into orderly lines. Odeny followed suit, joining the line for his grade. The boy in front of him glanced back, giving him a quick up-and-down look.
“You’re new,” the boy said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” Odeny replied softly.
Before the boy could say more, a tall woman with a stern expression clapped her hands. “Quiet in line!” she commanded. “Welcome back to school, everyone. Let’s begin the term with discipline and focus. Follow me to your classrooms.”
---
Inside the classroom, Odeny was assigned a seat near the back. The teacher, Mr. Obare, was a middle-aged man with a warm smile but a no-nonsense demeanor. He introduced Odeny to the class, and for a brief moment, all eyes were on him.
“This is Odeny. He’s new here, so let’s make him feel welcome,” Mr. Obare said.
The welcome was lukewarm at best. A few murmurs passed through the room before the students returned their attention to their books. Odeny felt a wave of relief; he wasn’t sure if he could handle more attention.
---
As the day progressed, Odeny realized he was behind in some subjects. Mathematics was particularly challenging, with concepts that felt completely unfamiliar. When Mr. Obare asked him a question about fractions, Odeny stammered, unable to answer.
Some of the students giggled. One boy, seated near the front, whispered loudly, “Doesn’t he know anything?”
Odeny’s cheeks burned, but he kept his head down.
At lunch, he found a quiet corner of the yard to eat the sandwich Amina had packed for him. He was halfway through his meal when the boy from earlier approached him.
“You’re sitting all alone,” the boy said, plopping down beside him.
Odeny tensed. “I’m fine.”
The boy grinned. “I’m Baraka. Don’t worry about those other guys. They’re just showing off. Where are you from?”
Odeny hesitated. “The village.”
Baraka nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s cool. My dad grew up in the village. He always says people there are tougher than city kids.”
Odeny couldn’t tell if it was meant as a compliment or a joke, but Baraka’s smile seemed genuine.
---
Over the next few days, Baraka became Odeny’s first friend. He introduced him to the school’s routines, the best places to sit during assembly, and even how to dodge the overly strict hall monitor.
“Don’t let them push you around,” Baraka said one afternoon as they played soccer with a group of boys. “If they see you’re scared, they’ll keep at it.”
Odeny nodded, taking the advice to heart. Slowly but surely, he began to find his footing.
---
One day, during an art lesson, Odeny surprised the class. The teacher, Ms. Kamau, had asked everyone to draw something meaningful to them. While the other students sketched houses, cars, and animals, Odeny drew a detailed picture of his mother cooking over a charcoal stove.
When Ms. Kamau passed by his desk, she paused. “This is beautiful, Odeny. It tells a story.”
The other students craned their necks to see, and for the first time, their expressions weren’t mocking. Some even looked impressed.
“Your mom looks strong,” one girl said.
“She is,” Odeny replied, a small smile forming.
---
That evening, Odeny shared the day’s events with Amina as they sat down to dinner. She listened intently, her tired eyes lighting up at the mention of his art.
“I’m proud of you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You’re finding your place.”
Odeny nodded. For the first time since starting school, he felt a glimmer of belonging. The road ahead was still uncertain, but he was determined to walk it with his head held high.
- Writer
