Today happens to be a Friday and the entire city is alive , lots of people milling about on the streets making plans for the night, however, you are in town for a different mission. A mission so sensitive and risky that the probability of the whole operation going south is close to one. How did I get here?
Hi brother, I hope you are well. I woke up to another long text from mother pleading with me not to give up on you. To tell you the truth I gave up. I tried my best to always see the positive in you but each time I ended up hurt and disappointed. You know what they say, it’s those whom we love that can hurt us most. Brother, I love you and always will but I can’t do this anymore.
It’s been two weeks since you were suspended from school for the umpteenth time. For three nights mother couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t find you. She went to police stations, hospitals and even morgues looking for you. You didn’t go home or even contact her when you left school leaving her worried sick. Man, don’t you know she is hypertensive? Why would you put her through such an ordeal? After days of frantic search, one of your friends finally revealed where you were. He said you were living on the streets with street kids because you felt we don’t love you.
Its 3 am, your eyes are closed but your mind is working overdrive. Not even your nymphomaniac neighbor’s loud moaning can disrupt you train of thought. Earlier in the day, you received a call from a lady with a trace of British accent inviting you for a job interview the next day. For a moment you thought she was a con but when you checked your email and saw an invitation for the same, you felt happier than you have had in a long time.
A year after clearing campus, you haven’t landed a job. Your unemployment status has not been due to lack of initiative. You have applied for literally all jobs even those remotely related to what you pursued in college. Over hundred job applications sent yet only two firms invited you for an interview. The first job interview was a sham, from how the officials conducted themselves it was clear they had already picked their preferred candidates before the process began.
It’s one of those Fridays you feel quite lost. You have watched all movies on your computer and your girlfriend, well she hasn’t been talking to you for the last three days just because you forgot your anniversary. Seriously, how do women expect us to remember birthdays, anniversaries, and Valentines? For Pete’s sake, lets just combine all these days and celebrate them on one day say 1st January? I mean we already other important things to occupy our minds like soccer and cars.
While contemplating on how to add some excitement to your night, Dan, your neighbor pops in. He suggests you visit the new local bar. When someone mentions a local bar, the image that comes to mind is a shitty, stuffy room with rickety wooden benches for seats, full of old Kikuyu men talking about their waru farms back in Nyahururu. The only female present is the no-nonsense barmaid with cheap makeup and probably a 40-something-year-old woman with a stinky weave and a black petticoat protruding beneath her grey skirt-suit. However, Dan is a great wingman so you give it a shot.
How many here are working in a field they didn’t pursue in college? Hands up please! One, two, three…there is clearly a huge number. I am no different. It’s been three months since I graduated yet I haven’t picked my certificate or transcripts from my alma mater.
My father is disappointed, my mother is sad, my relatives are worried, while my engineering mentors and supervisors are confused by my decision. “Why did you waste 5 years in college only to switch careers?” “ Why would you move away from a safe career in engineering to the media industry , which is unpredictable? The last concern is genuine, I might be out of my job by the time you are reading this, that’s how unpredictable my chosen career path is, and strange enough that doesn’t scare me.
Having a place of your own is one of the greatest things any young man can have. You can walk around the house ‘commando’, put your feet on the coffee table or leave the toilet seat up without anyone raising a ruckus. However, there is a downside to having a bachelor’s pad. See, most men on this part of the continent have been accused of being irresponsible and a horde of other nasty things. Therefore, when a typical lady visits a brother’s place and finds it tastefully furnished and well maintained, she plots of a coup d’etat.
It all begins with her leaving a panty in the bathroom, next is a toothbrush, a pair of shoes and before your realize it, three-quarters of your wardrobe is full of her stuff. You will be forced to factor her in all your plans. What such ladies fail to understand is that, sometimes a man needs time alone to strategize on his life.
You sitting on the edge of the 7th floor window, feet dangling out in the darkness. From there you can see pretty much everything happening on the Southern side of the estate. A half-full bottle of vodka in your left hand and a phone on the other hand. Thanks to the alcohol in your system, you no longer feel cold despite being in a vest and shorts. You glance at your wristwatch, it is fifteen minutes to midnight, the deadline. You take another long swig from the bottle. Today this ends, the world will be better off without me.
“…give power to read and to do all that appertains to these degrees” before the Vice-Chancellor finished the statement, the congregation of 2015 graduands jumped into a frenzy tossing caps into the air. Jubilation filled the Grad Square, hugs and kisses were exchanged munificently. This was the moment we had been waiting for. The culmination of the four or five strenuous years spent on campus.
The graduation ceremony was over. My classmates and friends walked out of the square, faces beaming with joy as they captured every moment on their smartphones. From the look of things I was the only one of the 4000 plus graduates who wasn’t excited to be graduating even though I finished 2nd best in my class.
“I am very impressed with your work young man. At this rate you will go far…here is a token of appreciation”, he then hands over a cheque. The joy is unexplainable. See, the last three weeks have been tough. The client whose project you were working on is an expatriate. Her demands were eccentric and of world-class standards, forcing you to sacrifice sleep and weekends. The knowledge that your efforts finally paid off is great news. You call your best friend, Bob, who also works in the city with the news. He picks up on the second ring.
It’s Friday evening, traffic out of the city is heavy. You pray that the widespread cumulonimbus clouds hold on until you reach your destination. You just got back from a week-long workshop in Kisumu. You long for two things, your bed and having the woman you love most in your arms. After maneuvering through the chaotic traffic, you get home only to find your lady preparing Ugali, chicken, and managu, your favorite dish.