My name is Mohamed Hussein (you can just call me Moha though) and today is about my story.
The first day in a Kenyan campus is arguably the most memorable of all the time one gets to spend at the University. And that is why I decided to share my experiences with the fans of my blog moha.co.ke.
From the front seat of the matatu I was traveling in, I could see the brightly painted, majestic gates of Kenyatta University zooming ahead of us.
My heart started beating a little hard against my chest, as I remembered clearly why I was there that day!
It was my first day in campus, and just like any other fresher, I was visibly excited to join this life termed as “njaro” by our high school friends.
(I have always wondered how did they come to this conclusion yet they had never set foot in a university!) Anyway, that is a story for another day.
“Toka kwa gari mkubwa!” a tout shouting at me brought me out of my deep thoughts.
The Konda, dressed in oversized coats and dirty blue jeans, was looking at me with the too-usual disdains that touts had for university students.
Well, I don’t know if they are jealous that ‘we had made it in life by joining campus’ or not, but the matatu drivers and their crew seemed too angry for my liking.
I hopped out and walked towards the gate. At the main entrance, the two security personnel asked me to produce my school ID. I politely explained that it was my first time of reporting and hence I was not issued with one.
Don’t they see that am just a freaking fresher! However, I managed to flash them a smile as they explained to me the direction to what they called the Graduation Square.
I pretended that I had grasped the way to Graduation whatsoever and entered the great institution, the great institution that I had always dreamt about since childhood: the one and only Kenyatta University.
Along the way, I met several students together with their parents. I assumed that they were just freshers like me, the difference was that I looked like an alumnus due to fatigue caused by the long journey from Northern Kenya.
I remembered that I had accidentally left my Admission Letter at home. However, I had saved it in my phone in form of a pdf. But the main problem was where to print it. Wololo, where is the freaking cyber now!
I flagged a certain Security guard and…
“Cyber inapatikana wapi?” I inquired in my most-innocent voice.
“Just go to Shopping Centre or KM, but I think KM is the best,” he told me nonchalantly. His body language indicated that he had some sinister thoughts. Well, if he was waiting for me to bribe him so that he can show me the way to KM whatever he was clearly mistaken!
I whispered him a quick ‘thank you’ and hurried along. I flashed out my phone, launched Google Maps, turned on my location, and searched for my destination. Kenyatta Market, as I later learned its full name, quickly came into view.
“Aaaah, it is just a kilometer away,” I smiled silently as I made my way towards the place.
It was the first thing that welcomed me into this little town holed up at the furthest corner of the institution. Dust in the nose, dust in the eyes, dust in the ears – dust everywhere!
(Koho! Koho! Koho! Am even coughing after remembering the dust as I type this story).
Anyway, first forward to some few minutes later, I finished my business in the place and returned back to the school compound. This was after buying a few necessities such as soap and toothpaste. Furthermore, what else does a boychild need except this?
Hehe, let us continue with our story.
All in all, I managed to locate the Graduation Square and joined a long queue. The students who had reported on the first day were over three thousand. You can imagine how long was the queue.
To tell you a little bit about myself, I don’t like queueing at all. Instead, it was the opposite.
I remembered how I was the Dining Hall Captain at my former secondary school. I remembered how I used to walk with grandeur with a serious face as I made sure that queues during lunch and supper were orderly.
Finding myself in the same situation was a little bit of irony to me!
To pass time, I listened to the gossip of some ‘classy’ girls who were standing in front of me. Lol, they were talking about KCSE results of the previous year and how they topped their respective schools in the final exams.
Maybe they came from Alliance Girls or other groups of schools. Bragging actually disgusts me. I tuned off their chatter and concentrated on something else.
To cut the long story short, my documents were counter-checked and I was given a piece of paper that indicated the hostel I was assigned to. Kilimambogo. A quick glance at Google Maps informed me that it was exactly 1.7 kilometers from the Graduation Square. Wueeh!
At the entrance of the grand three-storied hostel, I met some other freshers who like me, had been given a room in Kili. I quickly noted a tuckshop nearby. I made a mental note to return there and grab some snacks later on as my empty stomach was already complaining.
While I was signing a form provided by the moody housekeepers, a little drama happened. A fourth-year was apparently caught sneaking out of his room with his girlfriend.
“We have said more than once that students should not bring visitors to this hostel!” a plump lady started shouting, startling some first-year students who were standing near her.
“Yes, I know. But the hostel rules indicate that if a visitor comes after 10 am and leaves before 10 pm it is fine!” the boy tried to explain.
“That was before Covid-19 young man. And where are your masks?”
Anyway, I don’t know how the case proceeded but something caught my eyes as I left the Housekeepers office to proceed to my room.
Packets and packets of ¢0ndoms have been put on the windowsill of the room, where it was easily accessible by all students.
My naughty mind started to conjure up some crazy thoughts. Well, if they provided ¢0ndoms to students for free, why would they disallow female students from visiting their boyfriends?
Ama labda ni housekeepers wenyewe ndio wanazitumia?
To be continued…