The Happenings on a Campus Night

I was hanging out with two of my friends.

Rhr was on the bed watching Everybody Hates Chris, Season Four. I was doing some spring cleaning, tidying up bits and pieces, here and there. Rhr is laughing at my Thieri Henry poster, when he was still at Arsenal. It’s not really mine, I found it there and it was falling off until I took to sticking gum at the corners. It works…since now the poster is stuck firmly and every time I go to bed before discarding chewing gum, I reinforce the ‘glue’. Disgusting, I know.

This is not so much about the poster but about the rules in our hostels, and the janitor who does not like me. I have done nothing to antagonize her, in fact, I go out of my way to avoid her altogether.
I was chatting with Purepato as I did my cleaning.

“So these guys come over…”

At this point, Purepato is giving all the right listening noises.

“Then I whispered something in his ear. He smiled, and that was when I noticed his eyes. So I asked him, what color of eyes he had. Then I made him move to the light so I could see his green eyes. Then he told me he could guess the color of my eyes.”

I got a laugh from him. Perhaps he was still listening, and I was ready for the punch line.

“So I asked him what country he is from.”

“He is from which country?”

“He told me to guess. And I said America. He said no, and told me to guess from his accent.”

This is how the conversation went:

Since it was not America, the next place to guess is, say it with me, England.



I confess, I have no idea how to guess where some accents come from. Since it was not American, and not English, which are distinct accents…and not Italian (I have done my movie watching)

“I’ll give you a clue. It starts with an I.”



“um….can’t guess. Sure it’s not Ireland?” At this point, my mind took up the picture of the world map from my high school days. Which other countries in Europe begin with I?

“Poland?” At this point Purepato laughed. Even he knows Poland does not begin with an I.

“Of course not, Poland starts with a P.”

“I give up. Just tell me.”


Get it, Iceland. How am I supposed to guess Iceland from one’s accent? I have never heard an Icelander talk. I have never even watched Icelanders act in a movie. I did not even know people lived in Iceland, I mean, they are never in the news. Their politics, their disasters… has any of you ever heard of Iceland in the news? Anyway, I got a lesson in Iceland 101 but Purepato was still laughing about the accent guessing part.

It was way past the curfew. Guests are not allowed in past 10 p.m. It was way past 11 but we thought rules would be ignored since it was just the beginning of the semester. Purepato thought he would call it a night, so he told me to go check out the situation. This means I creep downstairs, look around to see if the janitor (who is the rule enforcer) is in the vicinity, then signal him spy-style to walk softly out.

Feeling like Jack Bauer, I stealthily walked down the stairs. I turned the corner and voila! It’s the janitor accompanied by two guys in heavy black coats, complete with huge hats, scarves, torches and masai rungus. The janitor in the sense that she does not do the cleaning, but makes sure rules are followed in the night when the housekeeper is away. The cleaners are called ‘the (wo)men who do the cleaning’.

I quickly ran back upstairs and told Purepato to stay put. I closed the door and we stood listening. We heard their footsteps in the corridor, then we heard them say,

“Hawako. Labda wametoka.” The have probably left.

We wondered who has left. Their heavy footsteps faded away. We relaxed and continued chatting. That’s when the footsteps came back. And the knock on the door. I opened it timidly.

The janitor was livid. I was harbouring visitors past time. She wanted me to write a report there and then. The head security guy (I thought he was the senior one anyway) gave us a short lecture and forgave us. The janitor still wanted me to write a report which would then go into my file and someday soon, I can get kicked out of the halls of residence. Am telling you, she does not like me. Anyway, the head security guy dissuaded her. I could feel her disappointment.

Apparently, they had heard of a group of guys who were refusing to leave the rooms. They had put up some fight and the janitor had gone to get the watchmen as back up. I don’t know where they got this story from, but they came, they searched and they did not find these stubborn guys. Later, they heard laughter from my room and jackpot! Only it was not some stubborn guys but two very genteel guys who humbly apologized and walked out.

There was a crowd of chicks gathered waiting to see who are these tough guys. Purepato and Rhr should have walked taller that night.


2 Responses

  1. I don’t know anything about Iceland either.

    Now Savvy, I don’t want to hate on your campus, but how do they tell grown ups how to live their lives and to ‘chase’ guests at 10pm? I find it a bit ridiculous. What is the rationale for it?

    It’s all about security. Female visitors can stay…if it’s hard to tell them apart from the students. But male visitors… we learn to live with it.

  2. Hahaha I see double standards.Why is it that in male hostels its walk-in walk-out 24/7?
    Such draconian laws done apply to male hostels.
    Just walk in at 2am, nobody will stop you.

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