campus elections

It’s yet another week! Last week was ok. When I say ok I mean that it didn’t have any misfortunes worth writing about of course apart from being broke which is not news in campus during such times. The student mess just like the forgiving father of the prodigal son has opened its doors for the comrades who abandoned it and went and squandered their inheritance in exotic restaurants such as the Mugumus and the KUCC’s of KU. During such times people eat like chicken having eaten chicken and chicken products at the beginning of the academic semester. The dime in the pockets are accounted for to the last penny and in most cases restricted to the basic needs such as ugali and beans. In case you are wondering about the heartburn, don’t be. The good university understands this and provides free soup.

Another aspect of the comrades that is likely to baffle any outsider to the institution is the traffic to the post modern library, computer centre and reading areas. To an external observer this may appear as signs of an academically vibrant institution. However, the truth is not so quite flattering. In a bid to crash a semester’s work in a week, the students are just following the norms left by our forefathers. After all, one can’t read and understand without a tinge of pressure. It’s only when there is the threat of failure lurking in the background that knowledge start seeping in across the hard rocks of the skull. I know that coz am pursuing a unit in human psychology, just in case you thought am somebody like this like this, ‘mtu hivi hivi’ in Wiz’s mother tongue.

Sometimes though it’s like there are two different schools in one compound. Whereas one group is immersed in the sanctuaries of the books, others are burying their heads in the sand hoping the exams will just go away. This are the group that are hoping that the student elections follow the spectacle of the 2007 disputed polls and a strike occurs so that they can push away the danger albeit temporarily. What they don’t understand is that even a year to read for a unit will be hardly enough. Now that am talking about elections, if there is anything that I have realized campus elections are just more than ideologies and a great manifesto, there are other important credentials that you must be seen to possess.

If you wish to be a student leader, you have to be financially endowed. After all posters and banners are not picked in the trash cans. And when I say that don’t mean tens of thousands, I mean cash that you wouldn’t have qualms throwing away. a student leader must also throw caution to the wind-by that I mean one should be for example consider what he stands to gain in the event he is successful as opposed to what he stands to lose if he is unsuccessful. If for example your gross salary for the year in office is about fifty thousand, a campaign budget of about a hundred thousand will still be in order, after all in campus, influence and stature are of immense value.

YOU must also be a member of a tribe as tribe equation plays a big role in defining who the next crop of leaders are. Take for example Luo Galamoro a group that has been a dominant player in the elections for some time. (Galamoro is just a group of men who meet to discuss issues such as politics and women over drink)At the heart of this association is one man who goes by the name Odhiambo wuod Odhiambo. He is proud to say that he started leading this informal group long before I made it even to Maseno National School! He counters that that has nothing to do with retakes and failed exams. He is a guy endowed with immense knowledge in lexical items in Dholuo, firm and commanding the attention of his audience. What his slim physical physique denies him, he makes up for it in general boisterousness and a funny way of portraying seriousness. He is a compelling story teller and he tells his audience about his tribulations at the hands of the powers that be, you get the idea why he has been the official spokesperson for the Luo community all this years. He has the powers to summon presidents at will and force them to eat humble pie.

Today however, there is a group hell bent on snatching leadership from his grasp. There are claims that he accepted money for political endorsement. He however bridles through as he as always done-outthinking and outmaneuvering his way through. Sorry, I got swayed by his persona. What I wanted to say is that Odhiambo and his team believes that in as much as unity of a tribe is essential for progress; of equal importance is mutual agreement between tribes. The Luo community, the group decides, will vie for two positions and leave the rest for the other tribes. The candidates who are not approved by the Galamoro have to step down –a decision that they are not keen on embracing. However, if the events of the last five elections are anything to go by, they don’t really stand a chance. When Galamoro speaks you listen.

In case you were wondering how Galamoro makes its decisions, they pretty look for other candidates from other tribes who either have strong financial acumen or are stirring waves and include them in the lineup with the vetted Luos. As a result, the Luo candidates however financially poor or unpopular can hope to ride on the wave that comes with the lineup. I won’t speak more of Galamoro lest Kibunja and co came after me.

There are also those who will vote for a person based on the physical appearance of a person. The candidates have realized this and gone to great extents to Photoshop their pictures and make funny postures all in a bid to get noticed. Some for example think the ballot box is a runway or a project show where they strut their ways in like colossuses. In the last elections for example an aspirant lost a seat because his pictures looked like obituaries .he has learned his lesson though-he is spotting stunnas in this campaign poster. Beauty though sometimes go hand in hand with vision. Am not mentioning names like Hulton Odhiambo from Diaspora.

I hear some presidential aspirant snaked his way in school on top of a limo. One I hear, rode through the pavements on top of a white camel replicating Jesus triumphant entry to Jerusalem. We unto you if all you can manage is a bicycle. There is also the aspect of hecklers. Just like crowds can be bought in the rest of the nation, a bottle of Kibao and you’d earn yourself a multitude of followers chanting your slogans and digging jibes at your opponents for free! In case you are wondering what Kibao is, just ask any campus students. Leaders with strong Christian beliefs are not getting left behind as they delegate the drink crew to a trusted lieutenant. After all, in as much as they may not want some of their conservative voters to see them in such company, surely they could use their votes.

To succeed in Campus politics you also need the endorsement of who is who in school. I hear the guy who got elected president last time claimed he knew me. Too bad that I got wind of it after elections. There is also the aspect of the campaign crew that you maintain. A bevy of beautiful women in a guy’s campaign team is essential in wooing the male population. The same might not work for the female electorate though.

A little lie here and there won’t harm though. You just need to know where to draw the line. Promising internet in every room might have been sellable last year but no one however dumb is likely to swallow that again.

The elections are tomorrow and whichever way the results go, let’s just hope that we enjoy some tranquility and serenity at last. A school whereby is someone stops you and asks how your day was then they are genuinely considered about your welfare and not just your vote. If in any case, you are wondering who the peoples president is going to be, don’t be Tom Mboya is your man. After all wasn’t he endorsed by one Varaq Aseda?

Till next week!

just why i dont buy the disguise of gender affirmative action

I remember when we were in primary school; the emphasis was ever on the girl child. A girl, it was presumed was so much held back by the society that every attention needed to be given to her. Incentives were showered on the girl ‘who against all odds’ made it to the top ten. Never mind that there were conveniently no presents for the boy who topped the class. Back then all a girl ever needed to do to avoid punishment was to present her hands and like a clown swirl over the teacher while feigning pain. Of coz the men who tried that dint go far. We expected that without nagging not coz we considered it female empowerment as they called it but to prevent more damage on our sitting apparatuses.

The story dint improve when we graduated from high school .There were specially adjusted cut off points to make it to university coz of their extraneous factors that bedeviled them-just them. This was also influenced by the need for affirmative action to improve girl child education to improve stability and independence among the woman folk. The earliest effects of this are clearly manifested today. I remember the education officials would be in seventh heaven if a girl managed to beat the boys top the class. The teachers were congratulated for a good job well done. No attempt was made to explain the sudden shift –all that mattered was that the marginalized girl was at last securing a spot on the academic front at last! The dream of female liberation was finally getting realized. Nothing wrong with that you might be tempted to say.

Fast forward to today, the legislative assembly reserved fifty special seats for women! They are also not prohibited from vying for the other constituencies as well. It isn’t difficult to get the logic here. There is every need to increase the percentage of women lawmakers as dictated by our constitution.

You might be wondering why I trod you down this long history lane. My class recently held elections to elect the officials of the class’s benevolent fund. Due to the small nature of the class, the elections were held concurrently for the chair, treasurer and all the other posts. In a bid to ensure female representation, I presume, the results were hundred per cent female. It was only after the pole did we realize that it’s never about equality, it’s always about dominance. Lest I labeled a male chauvinist, I have nothing against improving the status of females in the society. They are our mothers, sisters and prospective significant others.

The underlying reason is that historically women haven’t been accorded equal opportunities as men. Nothing could be further from the truth. If these instances are anything to go by, extra attention has always been to them. In choice of toys and presents, jewellery, school shopping just to mention but a few, they have historically had the upper hand.

Shylock-a character in The Merchant of Venice-would have asked, ‘If you tickle us do we not laugh, if you pinch as do we not hurt, if you prick us do we not bleed?”The mantra of female enlightenment to rise against male tyranny is just but a ruse for female chauvinism. Yes, chauvinism! Chauvinism isn’t just limited to battery but all the other attempts to impose thoughts, feelings and way of thinking of on others.

Talking about battery hasn’t there been a surge in cases of domestic violence against men? Yes, I know it’s just in certain parts of this nation. What doesn’t strike me as a coincidence is the uncharacteristic silence of the ever vocal Maendeleo ya Wanawake. They haven’t publicly castigated their members for the sheer acts of barbarism and gross butchery, maiming, castration, scolding that have reached unprecedented heights. And even though the ladies from the good towns of Busia and Migori haven’t hit the limelight yet, they are secretly taking tips from the unfolding drama.

When I speak, I speak not only for myself but for the millions of men in this great republic who are hoodwinked by the’ niceness’ of the ladies every day. I speak for those who would rather save a damsel in distress than the man next door. I speak for the men in Nyeri who are forcefully being castrated at 50.

Am not of course saying we revert to the age old battle of supremacy where the winner is decided by a contest on the battle field. On the contrary, I believe ladies should be treated with the utmost respect and love. No gender is special than the other-there has to be a reason though why Adam was created first. And even though the females would like think they can do without men, the truth is that both sexes need each other. The only way females can be taken seriously is if they hold themselves to the same standards as everybody else and fight for their places. After all haven’t ladies like Sirleaf Ellen-Johnson done it before?

And when they finally use their numerical advantage to advance their course, let’s just hope that they will also accord men fifty special seats, you know just for being men.

masaibu ya ndugu varaq

Last week was arguably one of the most depressing weeks for me in recent times. Okay, let me not get ahead of myself-it wasn’t that bad. You get the picture though. Sometimes you just sit in a three hour Parasitology lecture and wonder how or when life got this complicated. It’s not that the unit is that tough but you get the picture. Maybe it’s the 5 marks that I got in my CAT that served as the straw that broke the camel’s back. Allow me to pour my heart to you.

It’s funny sometimes how time changes influences our concept of reality. When I got to university and I was told the pass mark was 40% I must have wondered why the university put the bar so low. I for example wondered why someone bright enough to make it to university would fail to achieve such a miserly score. Fast forward to today I see how sometimes getting that 40% is all your heart desires. And it’s not like the exams are set the secondary school model where form 1 work is just as likely to feature in the final paper as form four work-every semester has fresh content. If my parents are reading this they need not spend sleepless nights, their son is still on course for a first class honors. Okay, maybe not that but am definitely inspired for success.

This semester I had promised myself that I would work hard early to avoid taking a last minute sleep sabbatical. It’s about three weeks to the exam and am still intent on keeping my promises to myself as soon as am done with this piece unless of course some emergency comes up. Don’t panic though by emergency, I don’t mean the hostel being engulfed in flames or anything of that nature. You know, feeling hungry and wanting to see some friends qualify as emergencies too. After all you don’t plan in your timetable to see some people and have lunch. Maybe some, but you get the picture, right?

Back to last week and its tragedies. When I received my first yellow card in my Saturday game I should have taken it as a forewarning. But I didn’t and continued rolling on the bridge. It’s only when you take a forced plunge into the cold waters beneath and attempts to wriggle yourself out that you realize just how you have lost the plot. I know I lost some of you there but don’t mind-am just trying to appear wise and astute people don’t use such pedestrian language as to err or make mistakes. Instead we attempt to make Ramogi Ajuan’g proud through the use of words such as falling into depths of the sea among others. In case you are wondering Ramogi Ajuan’g is the forefather of the Luopeans .And wasn’t it said that he taught Shakespeare the language of thou and art that we marvel at so much today?

Where was I? Yes, I was telling you about my first yellow card. I got to the game just a few minutes to kick off after hustling with some caretaker over the venue to hold my birthday-yes, last weekend I turned twenty two and there is so much to talk about that if I attempt to even make the slightest commentary about that, I might consume another five pages so I will write about it in my next article. The logic of the story here is that planning an event is so much draining not just in terms of time and finance but also in physical energy. So I got into the game frustrated and tired. It’s after playing for five minutes that the officials and me for that matter realized that I hadn’t presented my ID. In case you are starting to get ahead of yourself, that’s not why I was yellow carded. I was however politely asked to leave the pitch and look for something to prove that I am truly Ouko grandson of Bernadus Okombo, I mean apart from my sworn affidavit.

 I won’t bore you with the story of how poor me might have lost my ID in my last nights indulgences. The silver lining is that after hitching a lift on some pick up I was able to find some cyber that operated on generator power and printed my fee statement. Generator cause Kenya Power decided to remind us that they so far enjoy monopoly and fee statement because it proves I pay fee to Kenyatta University which in turn means I am a student. Pretty genius, argh? I know.

The silver lining in this story is that I was fortunate enough to get back before the onset of the second half. The rules must have changed during my tour or since when did being aggressive become a foul? Maybe I might have been too hard on the poor boy. In hockey unlike football; yellow card has a lot of weight. It means you go out for sometime especially if the referee is so engrossed in the game. Let’s just say that this was one of such games and he only asked me to get back on at the stroke of full time.

This week though if the happenings of the past few days are anything to go by looks very luminous-bright for those who don’t bear any Shakespearean traits. The birthday party was a success, word has it so. Ms Joan decided to give us a new CAT to dilute the 5.5 in the previous CAT and show that we didn’t cheat our way in. Maybe the change of heart has something to with the big rock that has recently been spotted on her middle finger. You didn’t hear it from me. On the relationship front let’s just say that things are definitely looking brighter.

Sorry I have to go, I have a CAT to demolish, remember?