LITERATURE PAPER ONE SENIOR FIVE (PROSE AND POETRY)

SECTION A 

 Boys and Girls,

As you know very well, I am a policeman. I’m not sure how you react to the word

“policeman” but I suspect that a lot of you have an immediate feeling of vague

antagonism, of somehow being against the police. I don’t know where this feeling

comes from. I imagine a lot stems from parents using the name “policeman” as a

kind of bogeyman, to frighten you when you were very young. Anyway, I’m sure that

some of you do have that feeling of antagonism.

I think this is a pity, because really the police are on your side. It is your fathers

and mothers who pay us, through the taxation system. And anyway, when all boils

down, a policeman is just an ordinary chap with a blue uniform on. When I knock off

work and go home to my wife and kids, I don’t beat them off the head with a

truncheon or drill them full of bullets. When I go back home I do just the same

sort of things your fathers do – I kiss my wife, have my tea, growl at the kids and

sit down in front of the telly watching policemen beat people over the head with a

truncheon or drill them full of bullets.

I tell you these things, not to make you feel sorry for the pool old policemen,

though I hope you do occasionally, but to try to convince you that I am really trying

to help you. I’m here as many of you know, to talk about bicycles. I’m going to tell

you a lot of things to do, and a lot of things not to do. But I’m not really telling

them to you because I’m a policeman. I’m telling you because I happen to know a lot

about the dangers of bicycles, and I’m telling you exactly the same things I tell my

own son and daughter about their bicycles. It’s true that if you ride dangerously –

dangerously to yourself and other people – a few of you are going to be in trouble

with the police. Bur for everyone who breaks the law and is punished by the courts

there’ll be fifty who punish themselves, much more seriously with broken wrists

and arms and collarbones, and occasionally with death.And all this can be avoided with little common sense. You don’t really need me to tell you that you must keep your bicycles in good condition – yet how many of you really do? How many of you are quite sure that your tail-light works perfectly and that your brakes are in tip-top order and that your chain hasn’t slackened off? When did you last check on all those three simple things? Last month? Last year? How about checking them tonight and every weekend? Not because the police are going to get you, but because otherwise someday your luck will run out and you will get yourself in danger.About the most dangerous thing you can do with a bike is to ride it two up. There are tandem bicycles built for two, and they can be controlled with two people aboard. There are no others that can – none! If you don’t believe me, there are 134 children in the London area who have found out in the last two years and who will back me up.Some of you are good at trick riding. A good thing, too! Just one point, though. If you want to show off how you can ride without hands, or with the handle bars reversed or sitting empty field where everybody can watch you and applaud you.If you want to put an old lady in hospital for six weeks, try pointing a bone at her, or burning a wax image of her. Don’t do as an old lad from this area did last month, ride her down on the foot path. A bicycle on the pavement is so swift and silent as to behave like a bogeyman.And finally do learn your hand signals. There are only two that matter – a right turn signal, and a “stop” signal like this. If every cyclist would learn to use his sense and his right hand for them, there’d be a lot more cyclists who’d still have their senses and hands today.

Questions:

a) (i) What is taking place in this passage?

(ii) Suggest a suitable title for the passage.

b) Which audience is the police addressing?

c) Why does the policeman address this particular audience?

d) How does the policeman try to help the young boys and girls listening to him?

e) Explain the meaning and effectiveness of the following colloquial expressions:

i. … growl at the kids.

ii. … drill them full of bullets

iii. … put an old lady in hospital

SECTION B

THE GRACEFUL GIRRAFE CANNOT BECOME A MONKEY

Okot P B’tek (Uganda)

My husband tells me

I have no ideas

Of modern beauty.

He says

I have stuck

To old-fashioned hair styles.

He says

I am stupid and very backward,

That my hair style

Makes him sick

Because I am dirty.

It is true

I cannot do my hair

As white women do.

Listen,

My father comes from Payira,

My mother is a woman of Koc!

I am a true Acoli

I am not a half-caste

I am not a slave girl;

My father was not brought home

By the spear

My mother was not exchanged

For a basket of millet.

Ask me what beauty is

To the Acoli

And I will tell you;

I will show it to you

If you give me a chance!

You once saw me,

You saw my hair style

And you admired it,

And the boys loved it

At the arena

Boys surrounded me

And fought for me.

My mother taught me

Acoli hair fashions;

Which fits the kind

Of hair of the Acoli,

And the occasion.

Listen,

Ostrich plumes differ

From chicken feathers,

A monkey’s tail

Is different from that of a giraffe,

The crocodile’s skin

Is not like the guinea fowl’s,

And the hippo is naked, and hairless.

The hair of the Acoli

Is different from that of the Arabs;

The Indians’ hair

Resembles the tail of a horse;

It is like sisal strings

And needs to be cut

With scissors.

It is black,

And is different from that of a white woman.

A white woman’s hair

Is soft like silk;

It is light

And brownish like

That of a brown monkey,

And is very different from mine.

A black woman’s hair

Is thick and curly;

It is true

Ring-worm sometimes eat up

A little girl’s hair

And this is terrible;

But when hot porridge

Is put on the head

And the dance is held

Under the sausage-fruit tree

And the youths have sung

You, Ring worm

Who is eating Duka’s hair

Here is your porridge,

Then the girl’s hair

Begins to grow again

And the girl is pleased.

Question

What does the title of the poem “the graceful giraffe cannot become a monkey” mean? OR what is the poem about?

Who is the persona in the poem .how do you know ?

What is the tone and mood of the poem?

Comment on the figures of speech.

How does the woman (Lawino) see her identity?

How does Lawino react to the complaint of her husband?

Who is Lawino speaking to in the poem?

What lessons do you learn from the poem