Again?

Brrrr…..Brrrrr…

Now who could be disturbing me as I try to catch up on sleep? It’s a Monday morning but I have no classes.

I open my eyes, and let the ringing irritate me to wakefulness. It’s the official ring tone.

“Hello.” I say in my most awake voice.

“Could you please come to my office?”

“Right now?”

“Do you have a class?”

“No. I can be there in 20 minutes. And I did not find the assignment you were supposed to leave in your pigeon hole.”

“Yes, I was calling you about that. You see, there were printing problems. You just come to the office and I will explain that.”

I run to the shower, bathe quickly under the resentful stare of the cleaner (she had already flooded the bathrooms), get dry clothes from the lines because I forgot my keys somewhere outside school, and head to his office. A 10 minute walk and 2 flights of stairs later, I knock.

It’s an open office but he is the only one there.

I stick out my hand.

“Hello, how are you?” He asks.

“ Am fine thank you.”

“Take a seat.”

I pull a chair from a neighbouring table and sit down.

“How is your day? “ Do u have to ask that?
“Fine.”

“And how was you weekend?” Yawa!
“Fine.”

“About the assignment. You see, since I could not print it in time, I decided that instead of the assignment, you will do CAT 2. That will cover more topics, because I will finish the syllabus tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“The assignment is supposed to cover RPC….but the CAT will cover the remaining topics. I hope the rest of the class will agree to that.”

“I think they will.”

“So what day should you do the CAT?”

“I think Tuesday is better because we already have 2 CATs scheduled for Wednesday.”

“Okay. Then you will do the CAT on Tuesday.”

I am about to rise, when he says:

“Let me ask, where in Kenya do you come from? Wait, you already told me. Where in Kisii do you come from?” Huh? Maybe natural curiosity.

“Gucha District.”

“And do your parents stay there or they stay somewhere in Nairobi?” How is that your concern?

“No, Nairobi.”

“You have a house or they work there?” WTF? Seriosly..
“They work.”

“Both your mum and dad?” I think I know where this is headed, Mister. Don’t try any shit. My mum and dad are my parents, right?

“You look like you are going on a journey.” He says, eyeing my bag.

“Am going to the library.”

I rise, ready to go.

“Wait, are you the firstborn or the lastborn?” Ala?

“First.”

“Eh, Congratulations.” Do I look like I had anything to do with it?

Silence.

“Imagine am the lastborn.” I don’t give a fuck. He is smiling sheepishly. “Do I look like a last born?”

“There has to be one in every family. I will tell the class about the CAT.”

I leave the room in a hurry. I don’t even bother returning the chair I used to its place.

No offense, but he is the ugliest lecturer I have ever seen.

Yes We Did

I don’t know if Nzembi is free to share this, but she and I topped our repective classes last year. I tried to keep this to myself, but I just can’t help it.

Now back to books since I have 6 CATs next week. As usual, assignments and CATs are done in te last possible week, just before exams.

Tagged..by Nzembi

I have
Had one boyfriend, who lasted for 3 weeks. Yeah, I broke it up because back then I was tired of sneaking around my parents to meet him. Could be because he was 10 years older, I was 18 at the time.

A passion for all novels interesting.

Two brothers and no sister.

Been to a Catholic primary boarding girls’ school and Catholic secondary girls’ school. They instilled an anti-church thing in me, am still fighting it.

A dream, of travelling the world over.

A love for poetry, read it, but sloppy at getting inspiration to write my own.

Kissed under a tree in the moonlight (ask Nzembi about night walks in the campus! Or Peter Njenga..am sure he has stories of his own, though I wonder if he can beat Kip’s)

Met Nzembi finally….more like she came to my room, couldn’t have the coffee I promised her coz it was hot and I was going to the field to play football for our Hall.

Been heartbroken once… this is a story for another day..

I have not
The slightest liking for dishonest, egotistic people.

Done anything crazy this semester.

A single dress in my wardrobe. I always promise myself to buy one…with time…

Yet figured how I got a C in what I considered I was best at: Programming. This was the 3rd programming unit I was doing (Java).

Any interest in facebook, two months after joining the bandwagon.

Told you everything about me.

Finally, the transcripts:
Last year first sem:
trans3

This year..a more colourful one, damn!
trans-0011

Changes

Last year, at a time like this, this was my transcript.

This year, this is it. I guess it is a bit more balanced.

Last year, this is what we had for a pal’s birthday.

This year…..

Last year, I used to be up by five almost every morning. This year, I’d be lucky if I can drag myself out of bed before 7am. Obviously, I barely make it for early morning classes, and when I do, it is to find a full class, no chairs, and I have to bring in a chair, sit in front, settle down (noisefully, no doubt) and cause one hell of a distraction. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I no longer sleep any earlier than midnight.

Last year, I cannot remember my dreams. This year…well, read the previous posts.

Last year, I had virgin ears. This year, I have two holes on each side.

Last year, I would have been shocked if I heard stories of students who take weed, have unprotected sex, get pregnant, abort, use morning after pills on a daily basis and not give a thought to HIV. This year, it doesn’t surprise me anymore.

Who says campus does not corrupt?

And now it’s a month to exams, time has come for me to bury myself in the library (from whence I shall be dozing..), or Hall 7 (why does it have to be so cold?) or my room (with all its distractions). One thing I need for sure is focus.

p.s. there is this rumour going round that 65% of those who donated blood in a ‘blood donation exercise’ recently are HIV+. Am thinking however random this sample was, the statistics are terrifying. The guys who donated blood obviously thought they were healthy enough to donate. What about those who already know their status? I was turned away for lack of enough blood when I went to donate, otherwise who knows, I may be part of a statistic. Am headed to VCT soon.

p.s. 2 I have no idea why the images are so minute, perhaps you could save then view them magnified?

Congratulations

I could not help it..been looking around blogs this Wednesday morning(did I mention the lecturer is coming late to give us time to celebrate?) and haven’t found one who has put up a post yet. I thought I’d be first. You can air your happiness, feelings, and I will personally ensure they get to him 😉

And tomorrow is a public holiday, you have to love Kibaki. I couldn’t be happier..

Yummy!

Yummy!

Jack Bauer II

Who remember Jack Bauer I? Well, he may have inspired many…

OF HALL SIX DRAMA
Magdalene( not her real name)was having a nice time in Hall six, drinking and watching movies with some guys, and her friend, whom we shall name Miss Weaves, for obvious reasons. She has now shaved her hair and quit the hideous weaves but the name has stuck, at least in my mind. So they were chilling, relaxing, maybe a tad high therefore very loud.

As a rule that is never followed, no men are allowed in girl’s hostels past 10 in the night, and before 10 in the morning. Same for men’s hostels. No female visitors past 10 or before 10. This rule is rarely obeyed, especially in the men’s hostels where you might find chicks camping.

I suppose it must have been business as usual, and it was therefore quite a surprise when a janitor poked his head into the room and told them to keep it down. On seeing ‘members of the opposite sex’ in the room, he ordered them out, asking them if they knew the rules.
Under the influence, judgement is impaired, invincibility is induced and courage exists in unlimited amounts.

The janitor might as well have poked a hornet’s nest, or a beehive. Tongues loosened, they let him have it all. Profanities, insults, ‘mchongowano.’

Feeling he could not argue with insulting drunks, he called the security guards. We have a security station right in the compound, near where buses are parked.

The guards, probably bored after weeks of inaction (been a while since the strike) responded faster than they would have in an emergency.
Meanwhile, back at Hall Six, the party continued. Suddenly, the heard static outside the room, together with gruff voices of “Roger, over, over and out.”

Courage fled out of the window, and one Jack Bauer followed it. He felt he had spiderman qualities and there he was standing on the window ledge, holding onto the some ‘ladders’ that they use to hand clothes. He probably forgot that he was on the 3rd floor.

The rest too, could not see themselves spending the night in a police cell. While the guard who had arrived ‘rogered’ and ‘overed’ reporting the current situation, they slipped out into their friends’ rooms, washrooms and wherever they could hide.

Our two princesses meanwhile, were stuck in a rut. They could neither run out, since by now the guard was on high alert nor follow spiderman out of the window.

When the guards finally opened the door, they found two, now very sober girls staring fearfully at them. The obviously concluded that the guys had run out on them.

Feeling the two were in need of counseling, they dragged them to the security station, sat them on a bench outside and proceeded to ‘counsel’ them. They told them life was short, rules are to be followed, they should not stay so long in men’s hostels, it was dangerous for them. Finally, hours later, they let them go with dire warnings never to catch them in the same situation again.

Had the guys been caught, the only counseling they would have received would be when they were already behind bars.

Our new Jack Bauer after several minutes of non-discovery, was feeling so relaxed he let go, and followed the laws of gravity only too well. Fortunately for him, he had a miraculous escape, he only twisted his knee.