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| Entrance to Maseno University's Main Campus |
On that day, I was one year shy
of being two decades old. By 6:30am my father and I sat at the easy coach waiting
lounge in Railways- Nairobi.
At 7:30am i would begin a vital
journey in the life of every young Kenyan: I would be en route to Maseno to
start my four year undergraduate degree journey.
I was happy I made it to
university, but I was very aware that studying an undergraduate degree was not
a stellar accomplishment, at least not anymore- well apart from for my
grandmother and a few villagers who still thought university students were ‘watoto
wa serikali’ (the government’s children) entitled to free chicken and lots of
money given by the government.
We were at the waiting lounge an
hour earlier (or more-trust me); with a father like mine you could not dare be
late in anything- especially to board a
bus we had paid for. Travelling on that day, would make sure we got to Maseno a
day before thousands of young Kenyans who would be my comrades for four years.
My father single handed decided we would arrive at Maseno one day before the
material day, not because he was nervous but that was just his rule in life and
by default my rule too. According to him; being the earliest bird came with
multiple advantages.
When our bus was 30 minutes late,
I began to give him faces that shouted (you see how worthless it is to arrive
so early!!). And my statement that went like “mimi nilijua gari lazima
ichelewe- wakisema 7:30am wanamaanisha 8:00am” (when they say 7:30am they mean
8:00am). Did not deter him from telling me stories of how he always caught the
worms in life for being an early bird. He warned me that if that was not my
philosophy in university I would fail in multiple things.
-of course he was right… But it
took incomplete assignments and hypertension during exam periods to learn!
Later while in the university I
would also learn that admitting loudly your parent accompanied you for
admission to first year was very uncool and wasn’t a line that could score you
a hot boyfriend in campus. By the time I learned this I had already announced
that I was a daddy’s girl brought by daddy to campus.
At 8am we took our seats.
I confirmed one last time that I
had all documents needed for admission. I cannot stress enough that according
to my dad some things in life have absolutely no room for errors. Like arriving
for admission then you realize you left an important document at home!! (this
makes so much sense in my adult life).
One of those was my calling
letter that read ‘Bachelors of Arts Degree in Economics’. Those bold letters
told me that my dream of studying journalism would be dashed.
And it was, when I applied for inter faculty transfer I discovered as a regular student admitted by then JAB- Joint
Admissions Board today Kenya Universities and Colleges Central Placement
Service (KUCCPS), I was a few cluster points short to qualify for a Bachelor’s
degree in journalism.
The first few weeks as freshman
were a combination of excitement, disappointment and discovery that saw me in
pursuit of an identity join the intercessory ministry under the Christian
union. I did not last more than two weeks there and I assure you I will tell
you the whole story in another post.
Everybody knows that when you go
to a new place, making new friends is inevitable. The same was true for me in
my first semester. I hopped from one friendship to another in search of I don’t
know what.
One of the friendships that did not
last was with this one lady who was totally obsessed with ‘looking fashionable’
– I was also obsessed with the same ‘devil’, only I was too busy seeing the
speck in her eyes. She would go to Luanda every Thursday even if it meant
skipping class.
Why did she go to Luanda? - You
ask. (Let me explain)
Luanda is 15 minutes’ drive and
20 shillings from Maseno University. Every Thursday is usually a market day and
there are cheap clothes sold; from as low as 20 shillings. When you are in
Maseno and you need to look good at a low cost, Luanda is the place you need to
go. But brace yourself for scorching sun as hell, possible pick pocketing and a
run into a guy who has lost his mind to weed.
At that time, I could not fathom
why this friendship was annoying: Was it coz this chic rubbed her Lunda
elegance on my nose or was it the fact that I could not buy clothes like her as
I was afraid of being broke while still in session? (But today I know why).
Anyway, before I joined campus I
had heard stories of how comrades ran out of money and ended up having strong
tea with a mandazi or two for three meals a day, or were totally dependent on
food from the school mess (that dependence meant one was financially
challenged), I most certainly did not want to be that comrade.
Plus what 19/ 20 year old wants their reputation to be tainted with such? - (“ule msee hukula mess”
Jesus no!!).
So I was something between a
strategic miser and a keen financial planner (of course this changed gradually,
but not totally). In fact I can guarantee you that at one point, I worried more
about being broke than failing my exams. First year Me is responsible for
nearly half of the financial discipline I have today.
No matter how afraid I was of being
broke, the nightmare came true, on double digit times in the four year long
journey. In fact I believe at one point my situation was so bad it would seem
hilarious to a church mouse.
When I left high school, I worked
in a local school and I remember telling my colleagues fast forwarded tales of:
How I would join the university and the reveries about my career would come
true.
The university is indeed that
place that paves the way for a comrade to achieve his or her dreams.
But it is also the place where
dreams are broken, to be mend or not. In the four years it was that place for
me. In the resounding clang of my broken dreams I still found joy.
In pursuit of satisfaction that I
couldn’t get from my degree course I ended up being a presenter with Equator
FM. Darn! I remember that night before my first day at the radio station – I
literally couldn’t sleep, I tossed and turned in bed repeatedly going through
my content and imagining what could go wrong and creating a solution for it.
Well – a lot of things went
wrong. Like I left my microphone on when I was off
air, I was a nervous wreck
and somehow the music just had issues (later I learned that it is I who had
issues, not the music). Of course I got better and greater – and regardless of
how terrible the first day was, I was a radio presenter for three years.
I also became a content creator, thanks to my
good friend Churchill Ongere who in 2012 invited me with a couple of other people
to start BAMU (the Bloggers Association of Maseno University), this basically
marked the beginning of blogging in my life.
…I still owe Churchill a cup of
hot coffee.
After four years, as I sat at the
graduation parlour, roasting in my mammoth of a graduation gown waiting for the
chancellor to give me the power to read bla bla…. (Seriously I never got that
thing he said). I remember asking myself questions about this past time that
lasted four years that would never come again. I wondered - whether I made the
most out of it. Whether I grabbed every opportunity. Whether I was happy with
every choice I made the best choices. Whether I was happy with the young adult
I had become. I did not have precise answers to these questions but one thing I
knew for sure I had made great friends.
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| My graduation |
On that day, one sat few rows in
front of me, another few rows behind me and the other in the column on my right
hand side. I made friends who since I graduated I have turned to in times of
distress, whom we share ideas and laugh. If one day nothing else ever counts, I
know this will.
My dear reader from whatever
place in life you are reading, this just like J.K Rowling wished 2008 Harvard
graduates the best friendships:
I wish the same for you!
Here is a paragraph from that
commencement speech –
