Nyumba ya Juma ilikuwa ndogo, yenye sofa mbili zilizofunikwa vitambaa vya rangi ya kahawia na meza ambayo juu yake kulikuwa na charger tatu, kikombe cha chai na simu mbili.
Amina aliweka notebook yake katikati ya meza.
Juma akaweka laptop.
“Hatufanyi story,” alisema. “Tunafanya timeline.”
Amina akatikisa kichwa. “Na kila kitu kisicho na source kinaenda upande wa claim.”
“Na tukikumbuka tofauti?”
“Tunabaki na tofauti hiyo.”
Juma akatabasamu kidogo. “Hiyo ndiyo sehemu watu hawapendi.”
Rehema hakuweza kuja kwa sababu mama yake hakutaka aende popote mpaka school itoe reopening date. Alikuwa kwenye video call, simu ikiwa imeegemezwa kwenye kikombe upande wa pili wa meza.
“Naomba tu tusitengeneze document ya kuwasafisha management,” alisema kabla hata hawajaanza.
Amina akajibu, “Na mimi naomba tusitengeneze document ya kujisafisha sisi.”
Rehema akavuta pumzi. “Fine.”
Juma akaanza na file ya kwanza.
Ilikuwa voice note ya dakika tatu na sekunde kumi na nne, iliyorekodiwa karibu dakika arobaini kabla ya blackout. Juma alikuwa ameanza kurekodi kwa bahati, akitaka kumtumia prefect mkuu taarifa kuhusu kelele kwenye boys’ side.
Aka-play.
Kwanza kulikuwa na sauti za mbali. Vijana wakipiga whistle. Mtu akisema, “Rudini block.” Kisha sauti ya Juma mwenyewe: “Situation bado controllable.”
Amina akaandika timestamp.
Dakika moja na sekunde kumi na mbili, sauti nyingine ikasikika.
“Msitoke gate. Staff wanakuja.”
Juma akasimamisha.
“Huyo ni prefect mwingine.”
“Unajua jina?” Amina akauliza.
“Ndiyo.”
“Usiandike jina kama halihitajiki.”
Juma akafuta alichokuwa ameanza ku-type.
Rehema akasema, “Kwa nini tunawalinda?”
“Hatulindi mtu,” Amina akasema. “Tunapunguza vitu ambavyo havibadilishi fact.”
Juma akaendelea.
Sekunde kadhaa baadaye kulikuwa na sauti ya watu wengi. Mmoja alisema, “Wamefunga njia zote.” Mwingine akasema, “Tuwalazimishe wasikie.”
Rehema akasema haraka, “Huyo si mimi.”
Amina akamwangalia kwenye screen. “Hakuna aliyesema ni wewe.”
“Najua. Lakini nataka iwe clear.”
“Basi tutaandika: unidentified student voice.”
Rehema alikaa kimya.
Voice note ilipoisha, walikuwa na facts chache kuliko walivyotarajia.
Hakukuwa na evidence ya donor.
Hakukuwa na order ya kuvunja gate.
Hakukuwa na management official akisema anataka kuzima student voice.
Kulikuwa na kelele, instructions na confusion.
Juma akasema, “Hii file ni boring.”
Amina akajibu, “Boring inaweza kuwa nzuri.”
“Kwa social media, hapana.”
“Kwa review, ndiyo.”
Rehema akasema, “Lakini watu walikuwa wamekasirika kwa sababu halisi.”
Amina akasema, “Hasira inaweza kuwa real hata kama rumor fulani si real.”
Walihamia kwenye screenshots.
Amina akafungua folder yenye messages za usiku ule. Akawaonyesha approval paper, notice ya dorm restrictions, message ya school kuhusu closure na screenshot iliyosema donor ameagiza cancellation.
“Source?” Juma akauliza.
“Hakuna.”
“Claim.”
Rehema akasema, “Hiyo donor story mimi nili-forward.”
Amina akainua macho.
“Uliipata wapi?”
“Group nyingine.”
“Uliuliza source?”
Rehema akanyamaza.
“Nilikuwa angry.”
“Na uliamini?”
“Nilitaka iwe true.”
Sentensi hiyo iliingia kwenye room kwa uzito tofauti.
Juma akakaa nyuma.
“Kwa nini?”
Rehema akajibu, “Kwa sababu donor angekuwa villain rahisi. Ingeeleweka. Mtu mmoja mwenye pesa anakuja, activity inafutwa, watoto wanakasirika. Simple.”
Amina akaandika kitu.
Rehema akasema, “Unaandika confession yangu?”
“Ninaandika kwamba claim hiyo haijathibitishwa na source yake ni forwarded message.”
“Good.”
Amina aliona namna Rehema alivyobadilika tangu usiku wa blackout. Hasira yake haikuwa imepotea, lakini sasa ilikuwa imechanganyika na aibu.
Juma akafungua voice note nyingine.
Hii ilikuwa ya dakika moja na nusu, iliyotumwa na mwanafunzi wa girls’ block saa moja kabla ya disturbance kuwa kubwa.
Sauti ya msichana ilisema, “Patron amesema kama tuna complaint, tuiandike tena kupitia student affairs.”
Amina akasimamisha.
“Again?”
Juma akasema, “Ndiyo. Hii ni muhimu.”
Rehema akasema, “Tulikuwa tumeshatuma art request.”
Amina akafungua chronology ya radio log. Art courtyard request ilikuwa tayari ime-forwardiwa activities office wiki mbili kabla. Sasa, usiku wa cancellation, students walikuwa wameelekezwa kuandika tena kupitia student affairs.
“Hii ndiyo backlog loop,” Juma alisema.
“Usiiite loop bado,” Amina akasema. “Tunajua waliambiwa resubmit. Hatujui kwa nini.”
Juma akatikisa kichwa. “Fact first.”
Walipitia voice notes zaidi.
Moja ilikuwa ya mwanafunzi aliyedai staff walikuwa wametishia kufukuza club leaders. Hakuna jina la staff. Hakuna mtu mwingine aliyethibitisha.
Claim.
Moja ilikuwa ya prefect aliyesema students wote walitakiwa kurudi blocks.
Verified na notice.
Moja ilikuwa ya Rehema akisema, “Wanaweza kuandika rule haraka lakini answer haiwezi kuandikwa.”
Verified kama quote, lakini opinion.
Amina akaanza kutumia alama tatu kwenye timeline:
**F** — fact iliyothibitishwa na record au source mbili.
**C** — claim yenye source lakini haijathibitishwa.
**U** — unknown.
Juma akasema, “Hii inaonekana kama audit kuliko student complaint.”
“Exactly,” Amina alisema.
Rehema akakunja uso. “Mnafurahia sana neno audit.”
“Kwa sababu audit haihitaji mtu apende conclusion.”
Saa ilipofika alasiri, walikuwa wamejaza kurasa mbili tu.
Rehema akasema, “Nilifikiri tutakuwa na proof kubwa.”
Amina akajibu, “Tuna proof ndogo nyingi.”
“Na proof ndogo haiendi viral.”
“Hatuandai viral.”
Juma akacheka. “Hii ndiyo tofauti yako na kila mtu.”
Amina hakujibu.
Aliogopa kuwa tofauti hiyo ingeweza kumfanya aonekane coward kwa wanafunzi na troublemaker kwa management kwa wakati mmoja.
Juma akaenda jikoni kuleta chai. Amina na Rehema wakabaki kwenye call.
Rehema akasema, “Nataka nikwambie kitu.”
“Sem.”
“Usiku ule, kabla ya lights out, nilisema management imeogopa poem yangu.”
“Najua.”
“Sikuwa najua. Nilikuwa nimekasirika kwa sababu activity ilikuwa yangu.”
Amina akatikisa kichwa.
“Unataka tuiweke?”
Rehema akasita. “Ina umuhimu?”
“Inaonyesha rumors zilianza pia kutoka kwetu.”
“Na hiyo itawasaidia wao.”
“Maybe.”
Rehema alikaa kimya kwa muda mrefu.
Kisha akasema, “Weka.”
Amina akaandika: **Student-originated speculation circulated before verified reason was provided.**
“Usiandike jina langu.”
“Sihitaji.”
Juma akarudi na chai.
“Okay. File ya mwisho.”
Aliifungua.
Ilikuwa voice note ambayo alikuwa amepewa na mwanafunzi mwingine. Timestamp yake ilikuwa siku saba kabla ya cancellation.
Sauti ya kwanza ilikuwa ya mwanafunzi: “Madam, tuli-submit dining queue request tena. Wamesema tuongee na patron.”
Kisha sauti ya mwanamke.
Amina alimtambua mara moja.
Bi Naserian.
“Niliipeleka ofisini wiki iliyopita,” sauti ilisema. “Sijapata response. Mkiambiwa resubmit, weka copy ya previous receipt.”
Juma akasimamisha.
Hakuna aliyesema kitu kwa sekunde kadhaa.
Amina akaangalia tarehe ya voice note.
Kisha akaangalia stamp kwenye chronology ya request log.
Zililingana.
Rehema akasema kwa sauti ya chini, “Kwa hiyo teacher alijua ilikuwa imefika.”
Amina akajibu, “Alijua ali-forward. Hatujui alijua nini kilitokea baada ya hapo.”
Juma akasema, “Lakini hii inabadilisha jambo moja.”
“Nini?”
“Student alikuwa anaambiwa resubmit request ambayo tayari staff member alisema alipeleka office.”
Amina akaweka alama **F** pembeni.
Timeline yao ilikuwa imepungua drama.
Lakini iliongezeka uzito.
Sauti ya mwisho kwenye file haikuwa ya mwanafunzi; ilikuwa ya mwalimu akisema, “Niliipeleka ofisini wiki iliyopita.”
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