16/12/2015 is a day to behold, a day that the world was below me, and yes, all cameras were on me. It’s still a wonder how a documentary is yet to be released and sold at river road. As I walked out of LT 4, my ears could hear my heart rejoicing, and celebrating, and all my whole being could do was throw that accomplished smile. Courtesy of that last paper, I had divorced successfully; 8-44 and I were two. Huraaah!! It was goodbye to the land of further notices, the land of poshomills. Here are the things and people that made me forget further notices and just enjoy Moi University.
- My group mates
Meet the group where every person had a position: from group leader to typist to absentee to presenter to others. Every time I attended group work, my wish was to take a photo and post with the #StraightOuttaCarnivore, it was a fun group. We were so organized and had a serious timetable: the first 20minutes would be a light discussion and the next 2hours would be the chitchat session. Missing group work made my wallet make unnecessary noise. Thanks to my `voluntary’ nature, I would suggest to do assignments `bora kila mtu atoe kafifte’ (as long as every person contributes fifty bob). Majority bought the idea and ka-boom, my pockets would celebrate. Forgive me for being on your neck for those tufifte group mates: it was part of certifying that you possess the commitment skills; include it in your CV already. This group constantly paid me a free trip to cloud nine; they gave me a chance to do presentations every time. They know how to nurture talent: they were just the best. Is there group work in Masters? I’m gonna look for these guys.
They were myriad, those we could do random `mushenes’, plot-less weekends, cook together, spoil the table, camp, hike, girls’ night, experience `IMAX’ moments design ya kuzima lights, meet on the highway and aww I miss Grace Chapel already . Every person I met made impact in my life, even that snatcher who only found a tissue in my bag: you taught me that walking alone at night is chancy. I made friends and lost some, got to know `ithi nande’, `wi museo’, koror kapsa’, `vaite murume’ if people treat me for my name and gossip, disappointment will be their portion. Well, I didn’t get a future roommate but got a right hand man in technology, business partners, loyal clients, and ride or dies. It’s funny though how you would meet a guy in the club, chat, dance, cheers, and during sober days, even hey would disappear with the wind. We may be out of campus, but still keeping in touch.
- Fun joints
This place is more than 14 falls and Karura Forest, true story!! Use Kesses map, find romantic highway, turn right, and do not just envy the couples holding hands as they grow old together, but also follow them. Go make memories at the falls. When you meet young boys dressed in sacks and with large canes, run!!! These boys should not be seen by girls, the rules of tradition say. You need no flight attendant to inform you of your landing to falls; people taking groundies will. Don’t fear joining the rhythm of swimming with clothes, you might get lucky and appear in `hapa kule’ news. We made histories here.
`Kwa Chela’ always trends in Moi; it’s a hotel with culinary expertise. To be a loyal subscriber, you don’t need to break a bank. Did I mention ugali nyama was fifte? Here, forget about meeting girls in heels or men in suits; they changed before coming.
Frakaz, trendz, chambers and Mega rocked during those blue moon days. People would fight for girls’ with lipstick, for poured alcohol, and it was a great scene to witness folks getting dents. These days there is F2 and the only thing I know is its black door.
watching the falls
There is a forest BTW, Ngeria forest, a very beautiful view for photo taking; its pleasant to the eye. A semester would be officially opened by a picnic at Kesses dam where boat riding is real. This dam was the alpha of one of my most interesting love stories (story for another day).
It’s legally called Talai stage and illegally baptized Moi Uni-city. One never struggles to know where it is; roasted maize will call you. If you claim to be good with numbers, wait until you cannot count the `mali mali’ joints in stage; however, I trust you can count the supermarkets, its only one. Reliance supermarket is that supa that if it’s not jogoo, it’s Elimu (unga from Moi’s main posho mill); the shelves are allergic to soko, joy, and hostess. The price tag is not friendly here, but since going to town is an investment, one settles for the unreliable reliance supermarket.
You cannot walk 100m without coming across some sewage pigs that drink leaking sewage water and feed on anything but people.
In times of heavy downpour at stage, mud is better conquered by gumboots as calling a `boda boda’ is worse. For the many moons Moi has been kicking, stage has never tasted murram nor tarmac; it’s well versed with potholes and unleveled ground. I’ll dearly miss the mutura, boilo, smokie, and chipo mwitu from stage.
BSM class of 2012 was an exceptional class with special people; every kind of personality was represented. We were 80 of us during exams and 30 during class time, how many people were we math gurus? A class with turn -up representatives, CU officials, school and national politicians and even potential Theorists. It’s comical how we could pass each other like trains on the highway and in the exam room, people’s name were in the fingertips. I’m sure all our CVs are painted with `team worker’, the spirit of team work was well reflected during assignments and exams. Our whatsapp group was and still is a day brightener; it’s full of opinionated guys. Here, you learn new vocabularies like hoiyee, adios, and many others. There is this special guy who would make it to Churchill by default; he would make a dry joke then say, ah, nilikuwa najua hamtacheka’ (I knew you wouldn’t laugh). A class without him would mean no questions and no answers; the best part is that I took a photo with him after exams’. I cannot wait to re-unite with classmates during graduation.
- Our fitness centre
At 5.30 a.m., we (my pal & I) would hook up with Shaun T on the laptop and proceed with the insanity program. It was tiring and interesting at the same time. Without it, my day would be dull. Sometimes rain would motivate me to little slumber but that call from my fitness mate worked as a demotivator. My admirers and neighbors would laugh at me; the way we panted doing the exercise. One day my neighbor texted `hizo morning glory zako zimezidi’. Neighbor, we were just getting insane with Shaun T not what you thought; one pants during exercise. I will really miss the sessions and the Karate lessons. I was sort of an entertainer BTW doing karate comedy at only 10 bob per head per show. One had to get `mayai boilo’s’ money.
They were great except for days when water was not pumped or the watchman took longer to open the gate. But when I delayed rent and my padlock was never doubled; they were the best.
Until I joined Moi, I thought tribalism was a political fallacy. When I decided to quit residing in hostels, I was tired of being a victim of tribalism, all my names are kikuyu; they betrayed me. Sometimes I felt like borrowing my pal’s names but my feelings were invalid. Politics are even worse; there is CORD and Jubilee. In exams though, every person was KENYAN, lol…POWER OF TEAM WORK. I look forward to a time when tribalism will be history, when we bury it, and it never resurrects.
- My customers and readers
If there is something I will be forever grateful for is my customers and critiques of my pieces. I made friends who became my customers and made the chain longer. Through them, my writing has improved, I’ve become a professional writer doing any kinds of write-ups; thank Jesus for you. The most boom time was as students did their projects; they chose me as their consultant. Oh and for those who need FIRST CLASS CVs, keeping coming. Doing business with you was the best thing; it shaped and is still shaping me. Most of them are still my loyal customers. A day is coming when I will invite you for a thank you party.
On Saturday, all roads would head to Mabatini village aka Mabz. Even when a long hangover prevailed, you had do drag your hangover-ed being because until next Saturday eggs at 10 bob would be history. It was a market of all jerks, the sugarcanes were the sweetest. Everything was cheap including the poshomills, he he, don’t laugh, the number of poshomills are more than M-pesas, cybers, and lecture halls combined. If you did not rock in new clothes on Monday, you had missed a trip to Mabz. I will especially miss `githeri ya mama Wendy’ and sugarcanes from mabz.
HAVE AN AWESOME WEEK BUDDIES.
#ISTANDWITHKDF do you?