The Day I Almost Led A Protest

FranklySpeaking_Soweto[1]

S/O to the Harvard student who faked a bomb threat this morning to get finals cancelled. Good to know smart kids are stressed too – @tayyq

One day I was, as usual, busy doing nothing and basically minding my own business as I waited for a lecturer to issue CAT questionnaire papers. No sooner had I seen the questions than it, momentarily, hit me that I may have accidentally stepped into a rocket science class? Of course it took a lot of convincing from my brain that the college I was at did not have a rocket science course and I could see my classmates; who were equally bemused at what the lecturer had set as exams. 

What followed was an uproor I had never seen. The lecturer – realising that he could be the cause of a major protest, which (as we all know) is always accompanied by damage of property – decided to give us the CAT as a take away. And everyone left happy. 

There are two types of people in campus. There are the sane ones. Then there are the idiots whose hands cannot stay down. They will raise their hands when the lecturer is just about to leave to ask an idiotic question like, “You forgot to collect the assignment you are yet to give us which I have done, or should I bring it to your office?” Sometimes, they even raise their hands just before the lecturer asks any question because they always know the answer. 

Back to my boring story. The second CAT was three weeks from the first CAT. The sane people spent three weeks doing different things while those who couldn’t keep their hands down spent the entire three weeks trying not to be surprised by the second CAT as the first one had. Some of us only remembered there was a CAT a day before the CAT. Based on the happenings of the first CAT, we got an idea which was flawless. We were going to stage a repeat of what had happened in the first CAT and get a takeaway, again. Clever, yes? 

I strategically sat at the front. Immediately the lecturer stepped in, there was a bigger uproor than the first time. And that was the first mistake. The lecture hall was charged. Some people were so intoxicated that their breath would make any alcoblow gadget malfunction. I tried signalling people to calm their tushies down and stick to the plan ie, start making noise after they get the questionnaire, but it was in vain. 

When all was calm, the lecturer proceeded to give out the papers. I got mine and pretended to look at it in disbelief. Just when I was about to raise my hand, the lecturer went like, “Greatrnk, I believe you have something to say!” Let me get a few facts out first. First, the lecturer had just blown my one and only chance of me raising my hand in his class. Second, the plan was that I was to raise my hand and tell the lecturer that the CAT was hard and we could not do it. Third, how the hell did the lecturer know my name? Fourth, there must have been a snitch somewhere!!!!! Fifth, the lecturer had just pulled a “Can’t-keep-my-hand-down” on me, a student!!!!! 

After a pin-drop silence, I finally found my tongue, and in a shrill voice, I was like, “I am sorry, sir, but we cannot do this CAT. You haven’t taught us these things!” I looked back at the class and gave them that, “Now would be a good time to make that noise!” signal. Everyone suspected, just as I did, that there must have been a snitch. Someone who couldn’t keep their hands down and their words in their mouth. 

The lecturer came towards me and declared, “But your neighbour here is already in question three!” Mistake number two, sitting next to one of those who cannot keep their hands down! Let’s just say that between the lecturer who manned me the whole time, and the chop who was constantly smiling as I was scratching my head, it was a long 1 hour!

EXTRA:

DURING EXAMS…Wakati wa exam invigilator anakam na kusema skip Q5 iko na shida yet io ndo ulikuwa umeangukia na umepata jibu….. – @munenelynx 

Uko exam room alafu chopi fulani anaitisha graph paper na ushamaliza paper na hujaona mahali inatumika. – @tintseh

Now That You Could Not Avoid That Date

So last Friday, I was busy doing nothing, basically minding my own business when a friend of mine went to great lengths (greater than the lengths the Government is going to have ICC cases against UK and cry-baby WSR deferred) to hook me up with his cousin. Read all about it here. I tried evading the bullet as much as I could but it was tagged with those GPS thingies that can locate you even if you hide inside Rachel Shebeesh’s weave. 

So even after I sent the girl to a fool’s errand to Kawangware while she was thinking she was coming to Upper Hill, switched off my phone and all, she still managed to get me through the office line. Damn technology! I resigned to my fate that I had no choice but to meet her. I left the office for Equity Centre, dejected. 

I got to Equity Centre and realized I did not even know how she looked like. But my guess was that she would not be hard to trace. I should just look for someone who looks lost and out of place. I remembered my phone was still off, put it on and there were enough missed calls and texts for every lie we have been told by Ole Lenku and Karangi about Westgate. All texts were from one person save for one from Safaricom reminding me to pay up the okoa mandazi, I mean jahazi credit I had taken. I called her up. 

HER: I am at this nice open air hotel.

ME: Which one? Rocky?

HER: I don’t know. This place next to equity centre that has plastic chairs and…..

ME: (in my head) NOOOOOOO!

 For those who have never been to Upper Hill, let me explain something. There are vibandas near Equity Centre where I do not eat. Mwanaume ni class, na tuliambiwa you can pay for school but you can’t buy class. (Un)fortunately, these vibandas will be put down as Britam wants to construct a 30 storey building there. With Rahimtulla Tower a few blocks away and KCB constructing another 25+ storey building, there will be three tall buildings among the top five tallest buildings in the country in a radius of 250 metres. Anyone who wants to commit suicide in Upper Hill will be spoilt for choice.

Back to my boring story. I finally found her. She had ordered already…. Tea and mandazi!!!!! Yenyewe mluhya ni chai, coffee achia Shebeesh. (I know I am overdoing it with these stale jokes). But seriously, did any of you see how hot the sun was on Friday? How is it possible that someone would take tea, at 1 pm, at a place with no shade? The bill finally came and I almost disowned it. It was only Kshs. 110. That is the amount I will be leaving as tip when I become a bit rich.

 Time to leave came and I was to be a gentleman and take her to NHIF where she would get a jav to wherever she was going. It so happened that just after Britam, as we were heading to NHIF, she saw Rahimtulla Tower. Her eyes shot up like she had seen angel Gabriel. She started asking a million questions about the second tallest building and I felt like I would die. No sooner had she stopped asking questions, than she spotted someone who sells mihogo outside Capitol Police Station. And for some weird reason, she wanted some. (I mean the cassavas, not what some of you may be thinking.). She offered to buy for me, convinced me for like five minutes with little success. I will not be caught dead eating mihogo in the street. I also maintained a five metre radius thereafter till she boarded a jav.

 Her number has since been deleted, blacklisted and blocked among my contacts. I am told the only way to be safe is to change my name, move out of the country and probably enroll in a witness protection thing.

*This story is fiction.

How To Avoid That Date You Do Not Want To Go To.

First, I need to make a few apologies. One is the fact that I have not written much over the last year or so. I was diagnosed with a serious case of writer’s block and I am still trying to cure it. This post is dedicated to the few of you who have been there for me during this trying time as I tried to rid myself of this bad disease. Secondly, I did something to this blog and just like that, I lost everything. If it is any consolation, I went to the bathroom to cry like WSR. I am still working on getting those posts back, but if it is not possible, we can just say I have started on a clean slate. On that note, do not mind the state of the blog and what not. Adjustments will be made in coming days. Third, the title was just to get your attention. 

So last Friday, I was, as usual, busy doing nothing – basically minding my own business and (like any Manchester United fan) wondering how Moyes was going to spoil the weekend for me – when out of nowhere, I got a phone call from a friend of mine. I quickly tried to recall if I owed him money or something like that. It was that time of the month (no pun intended) when someone who paid Kshs. 30/- fare for you (when Moi was still chancellor of all public universities) will call you and ask for his money back which has accrued interest at the rate of are-you-freaking-crazy-percent. This is how part of our convo went. 

HIM: Boss, my hot cuzo is in town. She is from Shamakhokho…

ME: (in my head) She is from what now?

ME: (on phone) Shama-what?

HIM: Pay attention Greatrnk. She is hot, I am giving you a Xavi through pass!

ME: (in my head) From Shamakhokho? I will pass… to the opposing goal keeper.

ME: I am kind of busy with work and all, I do not think I will…

HIM: I won’t take NO for an answer. Expect her phone call…

ME: You already gave her my ….

(Dialing tone……)

 Her call came in immediately, just as I was trying to call that idiot back. After the stupid introductions, this is what happened…

 HER: Can we meet before noon?

ME: (in my head) Are you freaking retarded?

ME: (on phone) That will be tricky, I am a bit busy. How about in the evening?

ME: (in my head) or never….

HER: I have a meeting at 10. Can I call you after the meeting?

ME: (in my head) I hope the meeting lasts till Jesus comes back.

ME: (on phone). Sure, no problem. TAKE YOUR TIME!!!!!! 

I hope you all noted that these convos were taking place before 10 am. Two hours later, when I had no recollection of what had transpired earlier in the day, guess who calls…. 

HER: I am done with my meeting…

ME: (in my head) So freaking fast!!!!!?!!

HER: I am at GPO, I was told you work at Upper Hill…

ME: (In my head) I will kill your cousin.

HER: Will it be faster if I took a boda boda?

ME: (in my head) Lord, why have you forsaken me?

HER: Hallo, are you there?

ME: Uhm…, yes …, I mean take bus number 46, ask them to drop you off at Equity Centre. 

I am not the smartest person, but you must admit that was pretty clever. Number 46 buses go to kawangware or something like that. I figured, by the time she found her bearing, I will be on my third beer in at my local. I switched off my phone. A major crisis had been averted. I put on my headphones and started listening to Chris Martin’s ‘Baby I Love You’ as my mind was filled with thoughts of Betty. (not the innocent girl heading to Kawangware). Mwanaume ni riddims, roots achia Rabbit (pun intended). Half an hour later, my office phone rang. 

RECEPTIONIST: Someone wants to talk to you, she says it’s urgent.

ME: (in my head) It is a few minutes to lunch on a Friday. This will have to wait till Monday.

ME: (on phone) Put him through…

RECEPTIONIST: It is a her…

ME: Greatrnk speaking…

HER: Hey, it’s me! Your phone is off. I just alighted at Equity Centre.

ME: (in my head) What the Fudge? How is that even possible? There is only one Equity Centre and it is not in Kawangware. Wait, how did she even get my office number.

HER: So how do I get to your office?

ME: (in my head) There is no freaking way you will get to my office and have my colleagues make fun of me for eternity and a half.

ME: (on phone) Where exactly are you I come get you?

HER: Near this tall building that is being built.

ME: (in my head) Good Lord, you are actually at Equity Centre!!!

ME: (on phone) Good Lord, you are actually at Equity Centre!!! 

So if it were you, what would you have done? Let me know and I will let you know what transpired next. To be continued…

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