TRAVAILS
OF A COMRADE
“Say something I am
giving up on you, I will be the one if you want me to” whoever sang that song
must have had the interest of the common campus dude at heart. I am not talking
about those campus chiqs who will go parading your phone number as mganga
kutoka Pemba on a huge tree. Jane and I had been in a relationship for several
years. She was the first lady I met immediately after joining campus. She had
this exquisite figure that left you drooling. She was no goddess, she had her own
flaws (they outshone her quality assets anyway) but she was good according to
the status of this campus. I for one never wanted to go after her but after two
months of dealing with a dry spell, I had to go for it.
Things were smooth, pizza on Tuesdays after landing my HELB
cash, kuku at Omosh’s place. Mutura at
Kavaloko’s and chips at Mama Boyi. She seemed to be down to earth or that is
what my friends always told me. For the 2 years we were dating, I had never
visited her place until last week. She was residing at Stella Awinja Hostels. These
hostels were always guarded by some mean looking security guards and the mama’s
that worked as housekeepers looked like characters straight from Charles
Manguo’s book son of a woman. They were well fed with little or no distinction
between the neck and the head.
Ladies will agree with me that breaking the campus rule of
10-10 is the hardest task to be accomplished in a female hostel especially when
dealing with a drunk boyfriend who has been busted severally in the female
hostel. That was the scenario I found myself in last Monday after attending
Jane’s birthday party at one idle club in town. The plan was to have Devi my
chief goon pick us up later during the night and chauffer us to Kangemi but by
10pm the dude was too drunk to differentiate between the headlights and the
taillights. 30 minutes later he had passed out.
This raised a technical issue for us, I had to find a way to
reach my abode somewhere in Kangemi, I had no liquid cash with me apart from
the 60bob matatu fare. Jane who didn’t want to listen to any of my explanations
insisted that I stick around till she calls it a night. At 2am I was shouting
myself hoarse, thanks to having enjoyed one too many, a crisis meeting was
quickly held and my fate sealed. Spend the night at Stella Awinja hostels.
Sneaking into the hostel required pure talent and bravery. I
had to put on a hood, a skirt and tweak my voice a little bit. I had to catwalk
past the housekeeper while giggling at the same time. This was a tough call
bearing in mind that I was drunk; as we neared the stairs I lost my cue and
started grappling Jane’s backside. A sharp look muffled by the stern hissing of
a warning jolted me back to reality but my act hadn’t gone unnoticed by the
housekeeper.
Jane’s room looked neat and organized; a heater on the corner,
a tin of blue band and some leftover slices of bread welcomed my hungry eyes. I
was silently looking forward to dawn for I was sure of getting something. I
checked my pockets and removed my 60bob coins, my ticket to Kangemi in the
morning, thanked the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and proceeded to attend to
matters of state importance. But even before the attainment of nirvana, there
was a knock on the door that I was ready to ignore until I heard the words
“fungueni ni security.”
The late Prof George Saitoti once said “there comes a time
when the nation is more important than an individual” this was a moment where
my safety was more important than my relationship with Jane. I quickly jumped
out of the window and took off at full speed daring not to look behind for fear
of being identified but there was one problem, my 60bob coins were laying idly
in Jane’s room. I had no fare to take me to Kangemi!!!