Nile High

Nile High

A little something I created for a competition…. The subject matter- “How did I end up here?”


I could feel the breeze through my hair, the nerves conjuring up, and the sweat from my forehead beginning to drip down my face.  “How did I end up here?”, I continue to repeat the ever fearful words.  My mouth almost dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves, the shouting of spectators in the distance and the cords round my ankles, feeling heavier… “How did I end up here”. Looking down from a swinging platform into the murky water of the Nile.  The urge for adventure got me here, but the nerves and butterflies in my belly wouldn’t forget to flutter.  The local gentleman next to me, shirtless and exposed to the burning sun shouted to me; “Smile for the camera, give the camera a big wave”.  I waved half heartedly to the spec like image in the distance, ‘The zoom on his camera must be good’ I remember thinking.  I’ve been stood on this platform looking down over the edge for a good ten minutes.  I can feel the eyes of the brave lined up behind me.  Then the chant I didn’t want to hear… “Three, two, one, …. Bungee”.  I stopped in my tracks, and stood still.  Frozen from nerves and the fear that I was going to fall possibly to my death.  “How did I end up here,” They chanted again, “Three, two, one… Bungee”.  I stood still, pretending to admire the view.

I contemplated, taking the ropes off my ankles and walking back down the steps.  But adrenaline took over and I glanced over the edge of the platform one last time.  The recognisable words were chanted again… “Three, two, one, Bungee”….. They pushed me!

The feeling was indescribable, falling from a height with the feeling of nothing stopping you.  I screamed and shouted until I hit the nile.  Under I went in the great pool of water with half my body consumed by the Nile.  The elastic bounced, and I was again thrown up in the air.. a somewhat similar experience to flying I would imagine.  As they lowered me down, a small boat came to drag me down from the sky.  “Grab the oar”… the men shouted to me.  As I spun round I attempted to grab the oar, but my dizzy state meant that I was scrambling round trying to regain my focus for several bewildering minutes.

After moments of indescribable adventure I took a boda boda (motorbike) back to the school I had been staying at.  I arrived outside the classroom, my home for a month.  And stared at the mattress on the floor.  No electricity and no water. “How did I end up here”? I began to say to myself…

Yet, I’ve decided to do it all again next year.

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