The evolution of the campus dating game

The innocent age

This is mostly in the first year of campus. The girls are at their most naïve, of course, in spite of themselves thinking very wise. They have all kinds of set values and high standards. He must be smart, well dressed, kind, polite, a Christian (and preferably of the same denomination), hard worker, non-drinker, non-smoker, this list could go on and on.

hopeful Freshman

The older guys know this, and they will be at their most charming, polite and well-behaved, and before you know it, the fresher ‘ameingia box’, loosely translated to ‘entrapped.’ So she will believe his stories of evangelistic weekends (hence why he can’t be with her over the weekends), but will religiously (literally) attend the mid-week C.U services with her.

She will agree to visit his room for movies, and he will not make his move that first time if he’s any good. He will buy Alvaro for her, or perhaps offer a cup of coffee. Sooner or later, the little touches will begin, and before you know it, thoughts of the Bible are thrown out of the window. The next thing she knows, he is not picking her calls, and his creepy roommate is the only one she’ll find when she goes to his room. So much for the prince charming she had imagined graduating from campus with.

The Awakening

In the second year, it’s hard to pin a girl down because she just wants to have fun. She has been through the disappointment of seeing her heart torn into pieces and her favourite song will be Avril’s Happy Ending.
She will not be contented with a cheap Alvaro in the room, but wants to be taken out for the rave. If I was a guy, I’d avoid the second year, unless you also just want to have fun and your pockets are deep enough. Campus girls have a phobia for paying their entertainment bills.

sophisticated sophomore

The Maturity

Third year is when relationships mature, if they were ever there in the first place. There are some guys who have been couples since first year, and by this time they almost do everything together, worse if they are classmates. They are just short of dressing in matching outfits. In fact, they do wear similar colours sometimes, and they begin to look alike. Like brother and sister. Or distant cousins.

the sassy junior

The single girls in third year begin to ‘import’. Meaning they start relationships with guys in other campuses, but preferably, working class guys in shiny cars. The third year guys realize they cannot compete and well, they start hunting freshas.

Third year may date any guy with a car

The Conclusion

In the final years of campus (fourth, fifth, even sixth), it’s easy to tell who may marry whom, because they introduce each other to their respective families during graduation. Some go ahead and get pregnant, leaving campus with a degree, husband and kid.

Graduating couple: she's probably pregnant

The single guys will be desperate, wondering how time flew by and if you get into a relationship with someone in these years, they would like something serious.

The single girls may turn to dating younger guys for the sake of it, or maybe to boost their ego. They will also be desperately looking for older, working and financially stable guys. Okay, scratch that. They be looking for financially stable guys of any description, especially if they have no prospect of jobs when they graduate.

Senior chick with freshman

A Complete Guide to Kenyan Women

I got this from FB. You’re going to love it!

So the original author of this article is @TheBahati, whom I want to thank for letting me keep this post up.

Some of the stuff may not sit well with some people because it may be adversely mentioning them. I advise you dont read the nonsense if you are sensitive:). We hope somebody soon crafts a foolproof guide to Kenyan men soon

Foolproof guide to Kenyan women. Enjoy…!?

1) Alice the Alcoholic.

Most of her facebook statuses are about how she is going to get wasted,got wasted, or missed work coz she slept till midday on a Tuesday. Proudly says how she has a whisky ( this lot have long ago graduated to serious drinks not these ma-blackices) gin and tonic or tequila with her lunch. Buys her own drinks, has a nice job, 3 ton chip on her shoulder.

Chances of being a good wife or girlfriend…nil.

2) Betty the Bitter Single Mum.

At every table, in every bar or restaurant in this counrty, there is a bitter single mum. She casually calls the father of her kid ‘ bastard’ and has man issues that would make FIDAs most male bashing lawyer look like a geisha. Men are dogs, she says. Then spends the rest of the night whining how Kenyan men are too insecure they cant date a single mum.

Date-ability depends on how bad her bitterness is.

3) Cathy the Cougar

She may be a jeisty Karen wife, or a shrubbing farmer from Nyeri, but increasingly Kenya’s dating scene is becoming the hunting ground for old women with money to burn on young men. Dont be fooled. She only wants you for your body. You arent allowed to shag anyone else and must be at her beck and call. If at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday she calls you up and tells you to meet her…you move your fecking A$ chap chap.

Your mum would have a heart attack if she found out you are doing her.

Your bank manager would have a heart attack if you stopped doing her.

If you manage to rock her world, she will ask you to marry her. Good luck having any respect in society.

4) Dorothy the Divorcee

Her ex-husband shagged anything in a skirt. Now she is in the market earnestly trying to show him up. Prefers more mature and working men. Your future prospects depend on how much one man’s trash can really be another man’s treasure.

5) Emma Evil

Mean, rude, stingy and unfortunately gorgeous as hell. Knows she is beautiful and thinks that gives her carte blanche to do whatever she likes. Has no concept of guilt or remorse. You wouldnt be surprised if you found a human skull and occult paraphanelia in her wardrobe.

6) Fifi the Freak

She certainly is very…ahem…popular. Goes home with a different guy every friday and you know at least seven of your pals whom she has been with.

Boss, stay away from this chick, unless you dont mind getting rashes in personal places.

7) Gladys goody-two-shoes.

Every sentence has one of these words. ” church, pastor, bible, salvation,sin, holy, no.” She is the girl with the ankle length skirts, bible in her handbag, who wont meet you in a bar coz its a sin, goes for prayer meetings every night and carries annointing oil with her.

Unless you are actually a committed christian man looking for a wife, stay away from her or risk being struck by lightening.

8) Harriet the Hustler

We all know atleast one chick like this. She is always on her phone, talking in machine-gun speed vernacular doing deals about plots, kukus or farm produce. Can sell you anything you want from a car to a tractor to an eigth in rongai. Just give her five minutes and some airtime.

Annoying as girlfriends this lot make better wives, as long as you know that while cheating is forgiveable, losing her money is not.

9)Immaculate, who is anything but immaculate.

Spent her early 20s living it up, being shagged by politicians and musicians. Now in her late 20s/ early 30s she is turning a new leaf and is looking for a husband. She has changed all her friends, uses her middle name so that her former identity doesnt get discovered, joined a conservative church and is practicing secondary virginity.

We all have a past, so if you are a mature and forgiving, understanding man…date her. But most men are shallow hypocrites who run for the hills when they find out she was once sexetary to the cabinet.

10) Jane the Joker

28 years old. No job. No income. Lives with her parents. Didnt finish University, is always doing some wierd short courses. Has no drive but drives a souped up car. Thinks daddy will always bethere to provide.

Wants a rich man to make her his housewife. Doesnt cook, clean or talk to poor people.

11) Kate from Karen

Snobbery in designer jeans. Kate only mixes within ‘her social class’. Prefers twitter to facebook and tells you to your face that she rejected your friend request ” coz we just work together, i mean, its not like we are friends friends. But we can still do email.” Your car must be german, clothes itallian and she will not show up if the restaurant isnt japanese or turkish. Has never been east of moi avenue. Holidays in Bali while you holiday in Nyali.

Date her if you are old money. You may get away with being new money so long as its a lot of new money.

12) Laura Loud-Mouth

Gossips like a fishmonger’s wife. Everything and aything you tell her will soon be public knowledge. Has a loud annoying voice, loud annoying laugh and only an idiot would date her let alone marry her.Has no real friends, loves being the centre of attention and conversation. Is a pathological liar.

13) Moody Molly

One minute she is all rainbows and butterflies the next she is a tsunami of anger and tears. Her extreme mood swings scare you and you instictively move back slightly if she has a knife, even if its a bread knife in a restaurant.

14) Nelly the clingy Nag

She calls you at 6 to say good morning. At 8 to find out if you got to work okay. Sends you three texts, writes on your wall and calls you twice before lunch, She always wants to be with you and gives you annoying petnames. Goes ballistic or naggy when you say you cant see her.

15) Sally Shagzmodo

‘Wow djon, ndhis is a ravry les-toe-lant.’ Hotter than a somalia summer you try and ignore the mother tongue interference, accent and wierd perfume. You focus on the hourglass figure, flawless skin and hope to heaven that she wont ask the maitre d if she can have some ugali rather than spaghetti with her meatballs.

16) Tanya Too-Good-To-Be-True

She cooks like a chef, has a hot figure, sharp mind and good sense of humour. She loves football and rugby, your boys like her, your family adores her and ever since you met her your life has been perfect.Extensive background checks have revealed nothing untoward about her past,she comes from a good-normal family, is loving and will make a great wife and mother.

Run. This chick will sacrifice you to some idol sonewhere in karura forest.

17) Vivian the Virgin

After being in C.U. all thru high school and university, Vivian has decided she now wants to taste the forbiden fruit. But only if you are going to marry her. As in, you have met her parents and started brideprice negotiations.

She talks about marriage on the first date.

18) Wendy the Wannabe

Wendy name drops, has fb pictures of her with famous people and is constantly looking for the next celebrity event or club opening. Within two minutes of meeting you she has already asked what you drive,where you live and where you work. If you answer you dont have a car, live in eastlands and are tarmacking she will sneer, despite the fact that all three are true for her as well.

19) Yasmin

Yasmin is a muslim. She may even wear a buibui. But when she comes over to your house she drinks alcohol and eats pork. No pun intended. Okay, pun intended. She wont be seen with you in public and if her dad finds out an infidel has taken the fidelity of his daughter there will be a fatwa and jihad on your A$.

Marrying her means changing religions.

20) Zipporah Manzi wa Mtaa

Listens exclusively to genge, knows every matatu on their home route down to the specifications of the music system. When you suggest watching Karate Kid at the cinema she tells you not to waste 2k, you can get a dvd of it for 50 bob, buy some nyama and napoleon brandy and watch it at home.

You dont know whether to be happy or sad

Embarrassing Visits to the Doctor

How many of you have ever dropped their pants before a doctor? Raise your hand a little higher please? I thought so…. no one has their hand up, but if you are in your twenty-something year, there is high chances you are lying.

Recently, I was faced with a predicament. To go or not to go..to the doctor, that is. To wait for the problem to go away, or to go and confirm it’s not what I hope it’s not. Yaani, I’m even embarrassed to think about it. So I mentally prepared myself for a whole week, like what am I going to say and all.

There are very many types of doctors; but let’s just put them in two categories. Private doctors and public doctors. Private doctors are friendly, patient and all…and the public doctors who don’t give er… who don’t really care to put you at ease. In fact, they go to the extreme to make you utterly uncomfortable, staring at you like, “can you speak up?” (I got a million other patients to see and my colleagues are making a killing in private practice. Plus I need to take a piss, so hurry the hell up and say something.)

You can imagine where university doctors fall.

Since I don’t want to narrate my experience, I’ll narrate my friend’s experience. I swear it wasn’t me.

So she took a deep breath, and took the short walk to hospital. She found a queue, as always and spent 10 minutes rehearsing what she’ll say when she got in. She was hoping to find a female doctor, but she found a fatherly male doc. She entered, sat down and waited. He asked her name, picked up her file, scanned it and asked, “So what’s the problem?”

“I have a boil in the inner lip of my vagina.”

I’m sure the doctor can tell a rehearsed line. So he said,

“Drop your pants.”

Ha ha. He didn’t actually say that but he did get her out of her pants onto the examination table. The doc probed her and there (of course with gloves) and finally the examination was over.

Just a minor fungus infection. Phew. Now off she went to the Pharmacy to get a long list of prescribed drugs, including lots of amoxyll tablets. You can never go to the university hospital and leave without amoxyll tablets. Whether you have malaria or a headache or a cold.

The Chips Funga Phenomenon

Makmende doesn’t chips funga; he eats at the counter.

That was one of my best lines during the Makmende craze. If you are a Kenyan and haven’t heard of chips funga; then you are a gone case. Not the chips funga, but chips funga. Let me try and elaborate.

To chips funga comes from the words: chips takeaway. You know when you go to a fast food, and you don’t want to eat there and then, so you ask for takeaway to go eat at home. In Kiswahile/Sheng, chips funga. So to chips funga means, in simple terms, to take someone home for the night. Quite possibly a stranger, and no, not to give them shelter, but to have ‘hot’ random sex and then walk away.

I know some friends of mine who have been chipoed (chipoed is the past participle of ‘to chips’), and they know that the person taking them home is only interested in the one night stand and that’s it. You only exchange numbers if the sex was good and you want to do a repeat. No emotions are supposed to be involved.

Most people are chipoed at the club. I mean, no one in their right senses will take a stranger home unless their inhibitions are lowered by liberal amounts of alcohol and a twinge of loneliness (I think.) Some chips funga their friends/acquitances, some total strangers they just met. Chipoing a stranger is dangerous business, though have been warned. They could be Onyanchas in the making. (Google him, or click on that link and don’t ask me questions ;-) )

Chipoes (those who have been chipoed) are not supposed to sleep over…but if they do, they should not expect breakfast in bed. In fact, when the one who fungad them wakes up, they should have left. However, there are special cases of chips funga: (Thanks to @switcheeks for some of these categories!)

Regular: this is your fallback, friend with benefits guy/girl. If you aren’t lucky that night..you’ll call them and you be sure to get some. Sometimes they can come over for the weekend, and on Sunday evening, you’ll be ‘giving them a push’ to the stage so they can take the bus home.

Corporate funga: this is chips funga that occurs during the weekday.

Sausage/kebab funga: this is when guy is the one being chipoed. *symbolism in sausage/kebab? which symbolism?*

Chips funga is closely related to the walk of shame; the morning after when you- the chipo- is leaving with yesterday’s clothes hoping you don’t meet anyone who saw you in the same clothes. This can be avoided by carrying one of those big bags that contain everything: including a change of clothes. Switcheeks called them Chips Funga bags/ Fornication bags.

The fornication bag

Have you ever been chipoed? Would you rather eat at the counter? (Whatever this may mean.)

P.S. This was added later. I was corrected that Chips Funga can occur even in sober situations. What? People got to eat too…even if they don’t drink! Read the comment by Shiko_Msa

Hall six

Many times I have written about it but I have never really dedicated a whole post to it. Never has anything deserved it more. Hall six is the Nakumatt of the campus: you need it, they’ve certainly got it. From electronics, to books, movies, legal intoxicants, illegal intoxicants, sex, a loan perhaps, and yeah, they got great cooks; who, when not short circuiting the electricity or causing accidental fires, cook delicious meals.

You cannot therefore, blame all the chicks that have taken to camping there. Damn, I should get me a Hall Six guy. Just a random thought. Anyway, I’ve heard of guys who wake up in the morning and wonder when theirs became a girl’s hostel. The number of ladies walking about in towels is quite large.

Of course it’s against the university rules to cohabit in the hostels, but who follows rules, right? This is a public university after all. We throw stones when we are opposed to anything. Back to the rules: you shall not do any business in the Halls of Residence, neither shall you cook, nor harbor visitors (nor play loud music) between 10pm and 10am. When I was a freshman, the rules were part of the bulky welcome to campus envelope and nothing more.
Now someone is trying to enforce them, and business has all but come to a standstill in the hostels. There were enterprising people selling Bamba 20’s, doing photocopies at odd hours of the night etc. and if you have to cook, you do it in secret. Sleepovers though, have remained. Till recently.

There is a guy who has an official letter CCed to the Dean of Students, the DVC, his parents (most likely) and the student counselor. It explains his expulsion from the Halls of Residence for cohabiting with a named cohabitee in Hall Six. He is to attend a month of counseling. Picture the sessions:

Counsellor: Hm…tell me about yourself.

Cohabiter: (Looks on in stony silence.)

Counsellor: Seems to me you have a problem. Tell me, what is disturbing you? Do your parents fight a lot? Do you feel the need to take drugs to numb your pain?

Cohabiter: Drugs? Am here for cohabiting.

Counsellor: Oh…(she adjusts her glasses, looks at the sheet again). What’s your name? Mark…okay, Mark. Seems to me you have a problem. Tell me, what is disturbing you? Do your parents fight a lot? Do you feel the need to cohabit to numb your pain?

And it shall go on for a month. But really? Counseling for cohabiting? It’s not like he was doing drugs or he was depressed. Only thing they were doing is each other and keeping warm in these cold times.

I rue the passing of the years that has brought rule-enforces on board. Hall six will never be the same again if this happens.

This is a big hostel that you would get lost in in your first year of trying to find your way around. It’s got a life of its own, and I’d hate for its character to be killed just like that.

Post Coital Depression

P what again? Yeah, I googled it. There is something like Post Coital Depression. Sounds like one of those wazungu diseases: ADD, DFD etc. Don’t ask what I was doing when I stumbled on it.

I would have thought the aftermath should be the best time but read this:

This is actually so common that it might be considered ‘normal’, although it appears to be more common in males than females. The French have a term for it: “Le Petit Mal” which means literally ‘Little Death’ and probably refers to the sensation that some males experience of being completely withdrawn and disinterested in almost everything – though this should not last longer than a few minutes.

Whenever you have sexual intercourse, at the end of the act you are supposed to have a develop a feeling of depression ranging from mild to intense. The technical termed coined for this is “Post Coital Depression”.

What could possibly cause this?

I don’t want to go into the chemical reaction and hormones explanation, it sounded boring. Even I didn’t finish reading it, and I read everything. Well, apart from the chemical explanation of PCD.

“the act of sex seems to bring two bodies together and link them and how duality becomes unity and togetherness and how, once the act of copulation is finished, the unity is lost, the links broken, leaving you feeling lonely, more lonelier than you were before you had commenced the act. It is like a dark night appearing darker still after a lightning flash.”

Intelligence may play a part too..

several highly intelligent people (Robert Silverberg, for one) seem to suffer from PCD

PCD could also be caused by a subconscious feeling of guilt.The men who were involved in extra-marital sex or the men who felt they were not sexually satisfying their partner have a tendency towards PCD.

So what then is post coital depression? Wages of sin?

Wait a minute, I thought the wages of sin is death?

Wacky Wednesday

The day started great. Even a bad day starts well. I got to work in time, and met Moneyman at the stairs, waiting and watching as I walked across the expansive lobby that is the reception. He said when I reached the stairs:

“I like the way you walk. So confident.” I smiled and confidently walked up the stairs to the office. No sooner had I settled than the guys in the department across call me. Their printer is acting up.

Turns out NA was the last one to twinkle with it. For those not in the know, NA is the one to take me to lunch-that’s-now-a-dinner-maybe-breakfast-too. I give him a call. One of the worst calls I’ve made in recent times.

“Hi, Mr NA. Uliharibu printer yao.”

“What? What kind of language is that?” Mr. NA barks into the phone.

“Savvy, can you speak the correct language. We don’t use such words in the office. Go there, diagnose the problem, then call me back. Withdraw those words…”

And a long lecture along those lines. I was livid. This is much more than just the words, “uliharibu printer yao.”

So I found out what the problem was and called him back, this time using crisp, official language. I just wondered what was up. It’s him who brought about this nonofficial nonsense in the first place.

Anyway, he came back to the office, shamelessly eyeing me from here to Timbuktu, and then proceeded to give me a lecture on solving user problems.

Am thinking this is a power issue. He wants to make it clear who is in charge. If it’s games, we’ll play. And oh, am the one in charge. He’s the hungry one, and am the one being chased. I think I hold the Ace. I can scarcely believe am writing this.

My immediate boss is in the funeral committee of this guy who was battered to death by his wife. Irrelevant, I know. Anyway, I was taking his evening shift at work meaning I’d leave at 9pm. He’d then give me a lift home after he was through with his meeting.

As I wait for him at the security desk at the reception, the security officer on duty is one L who has been asking me to buy him lunch. I promise I’ll buy him some day. He’s busy now answering phone calls, who knew there were so many night callers?

“Place of Work, hello. May I help you?”

He also made lots of personal calls, talking for long, saying stuff like:

“You wouldn’t believe who am feeding fruits right now…” he said as he extended a plateful of assorted fruits my way.

My boss came and we left, but only managed to move for about 10 minutes before we got into the major(est) traffic jam ever! For 2 and a half hours, we were stationary for 30 min, and mobile for 30 seconds. Guys got out of their cars, and were walking up and down the road. If there was booze, we might have had a street party. This guy ahead of us goes to his booth and takes out a bottle of something fishy, and while he’s sipping, the matatu conductors get out and start making jokes about how the food will be cold by the time we got home.

Boss’ car has a TV so I watch Boston Legal. I tweet on my phone until my credit is over, and we are still not moving. AFC Leopards have just won their match against current title holder Sofapaka. I get home at midnight just in time to catch the ending of the Real Madrid Vs Lyon match and some cold supper.

Am glad the day is over. And I just became an AFC Leopards fan. Even bad days have good endings.

Sauna

I am not the world’s fittest person. I used to jog once in a while, back when I was in school…anyway, where I work, it has complete sports facilities. Name them, we got them. From monopoly, chess, to table tennis, squash, to gym and aerobics, to swimming pool, sauna, steam bath and jacuzzi. Never mind the latter two don’t work. Only thing missing is massage and personal arrangements can surely be made for that. :-)

I love swimming. This one Saturday, I was determined to swim no matter what. What this time happened to be rain..it was drizzling when I changed and dived into the pool. Not dived per se, more like jumped. It did not deter me from doing a few laps (you know, taking plenty of rests in between.) I then braced myself for the jump from the diving tower…some 3m, 5m and 8m high. The highest I could jump from was 5m. Let alone dive. But that is a story for another day.

After the pool, and since it was cold, I headed for the sauna. I met E taking a break on one of the sunbeds in the waiting room. I was still dripping wet and was thirsty, so I lay back to chill out. She made a call:

“Buy half a Kg of meat…no, wait 3/4 Kg. And some tomatoes.”

Then she looked at me smiled, and remembered something else.

“Also buy onions…and green pepper. Some coriander too..”

I was just finishing my glass of water when she called again.

“And cook ugali..for 5 people. you can cook ugali, right? Am coming…saa hizi tu.”

Then she turned to me:
“Aki sauna inachokesha.” I nodded. Then I sauntered to the sauna and lay back on the hot wooden er..lying-places. She came in and peeled away all the lesos, and stark naked gave me her life story.

I know you are supposed to dress lightly for the sauna, but stark naked! I’ve never forgotten that life story. Everytime we meet, her naked body flashes before my eyes, her life story runs through my head again, all this before we say hi and part ways.

I haven’t been back to the sauna since.

Drama At Work

Where do I start? Oh yes..let’s start with interns. I heard someone gave some interns in an un-named department a telling off. More like a yelling off.

“All you do is Facebook, and entertainment sites all day!”

“And entertain men.” This is to an intern who was very friendly to an intern in another department.

“And what is between you and MoneyMan?” This was to intern 2 who was seen smiling to MoneyMan. MoneyMan is married with two children. He says fat men are disgusting (he is more of rounded to me…talk about the log in his eye), also that he can’t allow his wife to trap him to have more children. Anyway, MoneyMan flirts with everyone. Maybe except the one giving the yelling-off.

The yeller was on my case this morning: “You are not good with user support. I wish Andy was here.” Ouch! That was after I had reported a user complaining about their Ms Word. Ms Word! I could write the program. So I went anyway and solved the problem in about…10 seconds.

“You must have struggled..” Yeller quiped when I reported that all was ok. Am not having the best of days. At least the supervisor is talking to me. Yesterday he just shook his head and said, “Just go back”. That was after I came late and he had been looking for me. He did not speak to me the whole day.

Which reminds me last week, I missed a whole day of work. I was called to school, something about a scholarship. I knew no details except to be there by 8 a.m. I thought by noon, I’d be done. Anyway, it’s a long story…something about the department nominating two of it’s best performing female students (yeah!), then they had to identify those who really needed help with paying school fees this year. So to cut the story short, it was 4.30 p.m. when we were called for the interview and Oh la la! Where has he been hiding all these years? I’ve just got a new crush.

Am sure you are confused. Ok, I did not get the bursary because there were others who needed it more. So he works in the Dean’s department and he was a part of the panel of interviewers. He is tall. He is dark. He is handsome and courteous. He said we should not worry about not getting the bursary..being nominated in the first place was an honour. He said we can pursue other avenues. He said he’s always there, any problems, financial or otherwise….am thinking of developing an addiction so I can go for counselling when we open for session. He made my day.

All this talk of crushes has reminded me, this fellow intern. She has a crush on The Light One. He is tall and yes, light. And very good looking, polite and friendly too. But it’s her crush not mine.

Today isn’t over yet and still…there is one more story to tell. I really should stop this joking around, because last week I jokingly said, “lunch?” and NA took that up as an invitation. As far as it stands now, it’s become a dinner. And it’s also become a “just between you and me” affair. It’s a dangerous affair. No, he’s not married…just a little bit older. Okay, just very much older.

The Walk of Shame

I am sure everyone has had one. A walk of shame that is. The walk of shame happens the morning after. Be it down the stairs with nosy neighbours peeping through the window as you walk to your car, or the stretch between the house and the stage, and if you are in campus, the path between his/her hostel to yours.

There are many tell-tale signs that one is walkee. The hair is messed up. The clothes are rumbled. Their steps are without confidence. Their head is not held up high. After all, it’s the walk of shame. They are not proud of the previous night, otherwise they would have stayed longer instead of slinking away early in the morning.

I remember having a roommate once. She rarely slept in the room..all she did was come back to the room from her boyfriend’s room, just as our early morning alarms were about to go off. Then she would shower before going back to sleep for an hour or so.

Hall six. Appropriately nick-named Hall sex. No need to elaborate, I’ve heaved similar-praises on it previously. A path runs directly to Hall 5, also a guys’ hostel. On a random balcony of Hall 5, one has a bird’s eye view of the walkees. The question of course is, what would you be doing on a Hall 5 balcony so late/early in the night? You’ll probably be doing the walk yourself much later.

Mostly, it’s the girls who do the walk. Because boys in campus walk around rugged day and night, and sometimes do not change clothes too often so you never know…

Recently, in a bid to enhance security, it was thought necessary to install floodlights at strategic spots in the campus compound. Strategically they were placed. One, flooding light at the path where the walk of shame takes place. Previously, it was a dark secure place, and now even when you are taking a normal walk, the everyone around will notice.

The other floodlights have caused light to shine into strategic places where lovers used to be one with nature. Now even the shadows of the trees are no longer sufficient, and watchmen have been enjoying the sights and sounds of those who don’t want to get a room.

If my former roommate there now, she might consider waiting for daytime when there is busy traffic so one can blend in as you walk back to your room.

This you?

Care to share your walk of shame experience?

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