Vital lessons from life in Kenya’s public universities

Thwack! That was the sound of the GSU officer’s mud filled boots on the back of my suitcase that I held tightly against my chest to protect myself from his misplaced rage against any university student that dared to sully his path.

As I half dragged and half pulled my suitcase that had been hurriedly filled with what few belongings I could gather from my University of Nairobi hostel room, the only thoughts that filled my mind were how quickly could I get myself out of the clear and present danger all around me, students running pell mell in fear and panic as the infamous GSU came to empty the hostels of their viral occupants.

That’s enough of the fictional drama. The truth of the matter is that anytime there was word that my fellow university colleagues were going out to the streets, the cowards amongst us were the first in our rooms, packing a quick overnight bag and headed for the safe confines of our homes as I was - and still am - the number one subscriber to the school of thought that states “cowards never die.”

Successfully completing an undergraduate degree in any of our public universities is an utterly rewarding experience replete with lessons in both life and, believe it or not, management skills. I will demonstrate through a few examples.

Example One: your colleagues express dissatisfaction with some perceived grouse with the campus authorities.

They decide to articulate said frustration by taking to the streets thereby incurring the wrath of the unforgiving and highly idle GSU officers.

Right people

Life skill number one: in the face of adversity, always ensure you have a backup route in case your primary escape route is blocked.

Management skill number one: When the authority above you is ready to go to the trenches to defend a position, be prepared to either fight from the opposite trench or submit in defeat.

Example Two: In my first year of campus, the law student association organised a trip to visit our counterparts at the University of Dar-es-Salaam.

Being the bright eyed and bushy tailed “fresher” that I was, I signed up to go for what became the road trip from hell.

We left the main campus car park at the ridiculous hour of 4 p.m. having stood around twiddling our thumbs since 8 a.m. as our colleagues “stocked up” on vital provisions for the trip.

By the time we were about an hour from Namanga, many of the bus occupants were thoroughly inebriated from the stock which, I hasten to add, did not flow out of a bottle but from a jerrican whose contents would make nuclear effluent seem like mother’s milk.

As soon as we arrived in Namanga, the Kenyan immigration officials merrily waved us through.

Their Tanzanian counterparts were, however, not impressed by a bus half full of intoxicated and obnoxious hurling abuses at them about what a poor country Tanzania was.

They refused our university bus entry into the country on that basis alone and we had to spend the night half seated half slouched on plastic, torn bus seats as the bus driver refused to drive back to Nairobi.

Life skill number two: you are judged by the company you keep, and the sober minded tortured souls amongst us had to suffer a mosquito and alcohol fume filled night in a bus due to a few miscreants amongst us.

Management skill number two: You must always ensure you have the right people on the bus at all times; have no fear about shedding off dead weight along the journey with ruthless abandon as they will delay the bus on its journey to success.

Example Three: We eventually arrived in Dar-es-Salaam, battle hardened from sitting 34 hours with colleagues who sang atrociously, drank assiduously and mercifully blacked out intermittently as we drove the long stretch from Arusha to Dar.

Some enterprising student amongst us had managed to beg, plead and humble himself with the Tanzanian authorities the next morning not to allow a few bad apples to destroy what was supposed to be an educative tour of their esteemed country and somehow they were convinced enough to let us through.

Life skill number three: always eat humble pie by grovelling shamelessly when you have erred and you need help from someone you have wronged.

Management skill number three: If you can’t get the wrong people off your bus in good time, then make sure that they are dead asleep or hidden in the luggage section when you come to the most important sections of your journey.

Example Four: Having eventually rested our weary bones, we woke up the next morning and went to the University of Dar campus cafeteria or “DH” as we fondly referred to the dining hall.

Shock and horror prevailed when I found that my Kenyan colleagues had imported their traditions to Tanzania.

The worst of these habits was a common method of ensuring that one’s personal needs were met by taking part in the “OC” or Opening Ceremony constituting of rattling the doors or security gates of the cafeteria until the staff were suitably irritated enough to open the doors and let the students in.

Stand back

This ceremony was a vital part of ensuring that the OC members were first in line for the meal which at the University of Nairobi was almost always assured of never being enough for all the people they served daily.

The only people more confused than I were the Tanzanian students, who being used to plentiful food resources, could not possibly fathom why these Kenyans were beating down on the doors of the cafeteria when there was so much food to go around.

Life skill number four: when in Rome stand back, observe with a keen eye, then do as the Romans do.

Management skill number four: Refer back to Management skill number two and three: when you have the wrong people on the bus, who have now woken up from their deep sleep, shed them off with ruthless abandon and unrelenting pursuit.

They will demoralise the good people on the bus and more importantly, destroy any chances that the bus has of ever reaching its destination.

P.S. The return leg of the journey was via the Lunga Lunga border crossing as we were asked never to darken the gates of Namanga again.

Carol.musyoka@bungani.com