Evaluation is integral at the end of any programme most importantly education and that is why in my diary today, I sit to culminate some of the achievements and downfalls of my first year in campus. A tin of locally made champagne is crestrisenly beside me ready to be popped up for all the positive achievements.
I must confess that campus has taught me a lot of stuff, 7% academics, 80 percent socialisation and 13% devolving dollars from dad to damsels. Far from campus robbing the innocence of this young ambitious lad and extinguishing the burning zealous zest for education, it has equipped me with invaluable experience which would take an Havard graduate years of toil to garner.
I’m sandwiched between the chiaroscuro of plight and delight on whether to smile or wail as I disclose the wins and loses of the academic year. While the Retrosexual’s camp led by crestfallen Caleb Odongo wittily weep, Mafisi Sacco will be thumbing chest as I begin my confession. I had three girlfriends in my first year (pops up the champagne) though sadly they are all my exes (wipes a tear). But a curious reader of my previous diaries may questions this because of the hostile encounter I had with some Egerton University ladies. Continue reading…
Three weeks after my admission, I met Tina, beautiful, charming and sizzling with charisma. I was doing my usual rounds when I met her, confused and stranded, she had lost navigation and was headed to the physics lab, the inevitable practical had began. Being a suave, sharp and of course intelligent I knew the place and volunteered to take her there without hesitation. We swiped contacts and she became my girlfriend by default.
For the next few weeks any paparazzi wishing to concoct a scandal would have found Tina and I cuddling in dimly lit mazes within campus. It was love at first sight, but sights do change. What I thought was leading to marriage became a mirage, I got dumped one evening through a Facebook post on my timeline. She left me for a third year guy hailing from the land of ‘matoke’ after my seasonal stream of money withered.
The second lady was Joy, a gorgeous sweetpie from the Rift. God is not a deserter of his flock, I thought. It was three weeks after the horrendous heartbreak when I bumped into this lady, a daughter to a famous former mayor now a fanatic farmer. Joy was well sufficiently endowed with all any sensible man would wish for. Talk of curvaceous curves, carefully and proportionally sculptured rear and front assets, sweet voice, general beauty, sense of humour just a snippet of her description.
I had seen her in a common unit class and this time she was headed to shop for some greens for dinner. We had a little chitchat as I abandoned my duties to give her a push to Njokerio market and of course to sell my manifesto as an enterprising hers truly. We had unmatchable chemistry. We had uncountable trips to the botanic garden, calorie guzzling Njoro caves among other places. Before we realised we were already a pair. A month later I got news that she had differed her studies without my knowledge. She blocked me on WhatsApp, blacklisted my number and unfriended me on Facebook. The commission of enquiry I tasked to investigate the happenings brought the shocking news that she was pregnant. Luckily, she and I had not met for a wrestle of nudes.
The semester ended without further advances to the female circles. I lost hope and trust in love. I almost called Mr. Retrosexual to sign me back.
The second semester started with a bang, my theatre group was now the new talk in town. Having taken a conspicuous role in the much applauded play my celebrity status rose. For every ten people I met three of them knew me.
It was in this limelight status that I met Esther, a first year pursuing a degree in Agronomy. She had seen me during the play and most importantly had a crush on me. Though she didn’t publicly confess it I could read it from her eyes. We became extremely close friends, she invited me for occasional lunch and dinner, over the weekends she would come to my place, help me with my laundry then later we’d watch a number of movies. Campus gigs were part of our diaries. We attended each of them had fun and the rest is history and mystery.
All was moving so well until one Thursday evening when a campus evangelist won her heart. She adopted a new faith, she became a born again Christian and deleted her past. Her new status could not accommodate me. Our unlimited tight hugs were reduced to feeble handshakes. Her tight skirts were replaced my long buggy dresses. She was not the Esther I new, not the Esther I loved, not the Esther I wanted. I became single again.
All this while my academics were at bay, shrivelled and unattended. I tried to weave up the remnants but exams were about to start. I did my best but only the transcript will tell. For now I’m bracing up for a new semester, to buoy my sinking academic ship. The past is gone, I’m now ready to start a new diary, a fresh start.
This is the last episode of my much read column on Freshman’s Dairy but a lot more is coming. Let’s interact on streets of Twitter @benkeybe254.