Friday, August 12, 2011

HOSTEL WASHROOMS IN DEPLORABLE STATE. By Ranjeev Kharriz

It’s official. Moi university hostel washrooms have entered the unofficial Guinness book of records as the worst maintained ever. An eyesore to behold, a nauseous uneasiness creeps up my spine every time I harbor thoughts of visiting any one of them. Moi University students must indeed be a very tolerant lot.

Ever imagined wading through a flooded toilet floor of a supposedly ISO-certified university, day-in and day-out? Well, that is just a tip of the iceberg that is the torture that comrades have to undergo, despite having diligently paid –in full- their accommodation fees. In hostel L, for instance, one requires a combination of martial arts and faultless patience to be able to use the bathrooms, which are perennially flooded with murky water. A simple problem of blocked drainage pipes and wanting institutional value system is to blame for this.

The showers which are supposed to `rain’ water lash it out like a crack-whip instead, thanks to missing shower heads, which of course no one cares to replace. The toilets’ flashing systems are in terrible state of disrepair. Picture a toilet visited many dozen times a day without flashing! You would have to be blindfolded and supplied with a gas mask to achieve your desired mission.

The sinks would do more soiling than cleaning your hands and woe unto you if you lose your balance on the disgustingly slippery floor! I don’t have to mention the cleaners who do a bad-good job on the floors daily. There is a particular one who relishes flooding my doorstep with water every time she does her thing! And I feel she is justified in a sense. . . how do you feel cleaning real adult faecal waste every morning? These workers have guts, don’t they?

I remember an incident where I had to use the toilets at ICDC, with a dripping pipe overhead diligently spilling its contents on my back! And I swore to move all the way to school of information sciences every time I have to do my thing, just to avoid the eyesore that is ICDC washrooms. Have you been to hostel J washrooms? It’s another study in digestion system gone awry!

The J residents share their miserable story with their hostel H brothers. A friend tells me he has to go from hostel H all the way to the extreme end of hostel C to be able to use the lavatories. Reason, the sit-on toilets in H are awfully terrible. Kaput.

Now, why and how does one install sit-ons in a students’ hall of residence? Basic rules of hygiene dictates that such toilets are only suitable for close-knit users, say members of a family. Fix it in a hostel meant for hundreds of students and that’s a hygienic disaster in the waiting; quite pathetic indeed.

And now that some abolition blocks are springing up at a pace we all don’t particularly like, we are left to see whether they will be better managed than the ones already existing, if they will get any clients at all. Maybe they are meant for the numerous boda-boda operators who criss-cross campus grounds like it is their backyard, nkt!

Hygiene is one of the most basic of all my needs and yours, not unless recession has begun knocking hard on your door! I always wonder, who is in charge here? Who creates this silly mess we all are forced to manage and grudgingly live with? Can he or she be the type my lecturer usually calls the guy who sits in a carpeted office on a swivel chair? You may be perturbed to know such a junk has a degree in something from this same university.

Surely, our money can do far much better stuff than flooding corrupt bigots’ stomachs with god knows what.

Until my resurrection. by Nyamweya Bw'Omari

I am making these ‘announcements’ fully aware of the killing cats down there. Down is relative, you know! When and if I revert these golden ‘Until my Resurrection’ declarations, I will not fail to tell you why. One reason might be if I get a girlfriend who will still be studying here in this re-owned university. Let those explanations come when they are due.

When I imagine that more that Sh. 600, 000 comrades’ money has been squandered in the last two academic years, I fail to understand if we have leaders and readers. This money was awarded in the name of MUSO bursaries but never resurfaced. The question is; who ate the money? Until these Muso money stealers are prosecuted I will never visit Moi.

There is the shop tendering issue. Year in year out one Mr. Entrepreneur Muse has been winning all tenders. This year it is alleged that Muse has won the tenders courtesy of our outspoken Director Mr. Strongman. Until Muse loses a tender I will never visit Moi University.

26 years and still employees or have they grown up to be employers? A good question with more severe repercussions than meets the eyes and years. Do you really know what I am talking about? I guess not. Because us in Moi are still in the 1980s of the Nyayo torture chambers, I beg not to elaborate any further. For more clarifications please visit me on my way to lectures. Until….

Do you remember how these good young politicians told us before they were elected into office? They even went a step further into swearing an oath and pledging their loyalty to the MUSO Constitution! Do I say. Yes I should. These same directors have betrayed and abused comrades and were once last semester fighting on who will illegally take the shops and Chips Cafés promoting unyanyapaa.

They have gone against the oath which required them to serve comrades with integrity without fear or favor. Talk of uncircumcised impunity. I suggest signatures to be collected and they face the full face of the law: waambie kuna katiba mpya mjini! Until all the 25th SGC Muso officials who illegally stole tenders, ‘return’ the Shops and Chips Cafés, I will never visit Moi.

University buses! Ever asked yourself how many times you have ever boarded the university buses except when going for a funeral. Let’s start with me. This is my fourth year in campus, but I have never even smelt the inside of any of these press-tegious buses. I hear they are individual owned though painted as ‘ours’. Did I say that? No, not me.

Just ‘Until my resurrection’

Elvis Ondieki: THE MAKING OF A FICTIONAL LEGEND. by Dikembe Disembe

He is the immediate former chairman of Moi University press club, the 3rd eye.

I knew Elvis Ondieki (pictured) for an academic year; my observation of him therefore confined me to this period. If I were called to give an account of his character before a panel of peers; I would say the following:

His mind was great and powerful, without being of the very first order; his sharpness strong. In his class, he passed as perennial joker. Among his friends; he seemed to be the shortest, a fact he constantly used to justify his resolve to form Moi University Vertically Challenged Male Students Association. He was slow to make judgments, being highly aided by personal conviction; he did his work more judiciously and was rarely late for club meetings. Knowing well the orientation of most 3rd Eye writers, he gained from keeping to himself, hence would rarely give an opinion.

But if called to do so, he was incapable of fear, had a knack of meeting personal attacks with the calmest unconcern. Perhaps, the strongest feature in his character was cautiousness, never acting until every circumstance, every consideration had been maturely weighed; refraining if he saw doubt, but, once decided, he went through with his purpose, no matter what it takes.

His integrity was beyond reproach, his belief was informed by the role he felt journalism should play in shaping morals and best practices (his classmates do not remember an instant he cheated in an exam). His justice the most inflexible I have ever known; no motives of personal interest or friendship or hatred being able to bias his decision.

He was indeed a wise, good and a great man. His heart was warm in its affections, he attached value to every club member, and he created solid esteem in each individual’s ability and proportioned duty in so far as he was convinced one was capable. The result of this was that each member strived to build the club in their personal small ways. In the circle of writers he took free share at conversation, when he spoke, he toned his language to fit the occasion hence we always knew if he wanted to spurn or joke.

His abilities in informal discussions always left us in stitches, his language was never plain, and his gags smelt of absurd mediocrity! Yet the chairman was far from being a mediocre!

He disliked the Green Book, and often declared to me that he considered it an experiment gone bad. He always wondered how leadership could exist without adequate compensation. In essence, he believed lack of a well stipulated system of appreciation to MUSO leaders was not only reckless and cold, but also depicted an institution lacking in manners and ideas, an institution which apparently strived to mint corrupt and insensitive leaders who could not stand the test of integrity required in this generation. For this reason, he harbored a strong dislike to the dean and his office!

He was a strong believer in the French principles of government-liberty, fairness and fraternity. He was generally distrustful of women; a streak deeply rooted in the collective psyche of most male campus writers. He rarely visited female hostels. I suspect he never ventured in a campus relationship; if he did so, then I can bet it became dysfunctional long before I came here! This is my intellectual recollection of a maverick who managed to pacify a press club; for The 3rd Eye is essentially a constellation of critics and conformists; leaders and wanderers; Christians, Muslims and traditionalists; atheists and agnostics; friends and strangers; classmates and roommates; pirates and exilees!

I am satisfied the great body of writers, from Mulsa Shots to Flashpoint, from the Informer to Illuminator, from Intelligence to The Communicator to Legacy; all think of him as I do. We feel extremely grateful to have shared these walls with him. An emblem, a living legend.

The write is the Chief Reporter of Moi University Press club-The 3rd Eye.

Last Semester I Learnt. by Elizabeth Muriithi

Last semester was quite. . . Let’s see. . . Should I call it exemplary, nothing out of the ordinary or everything in the extraordinary? I still can’t place a finger as to what I should term it but one thing that remains certified is that I LEARNT. Yes, last semester I LEARNT. Not just the course outlines, no! Last semester I learnt so much more that left me wide agape. Yes, I learnt.

Last semester I learnt that there are always stars in the sky even in the darkest of nights; stars that dazzle so bright if we just overlook the dark clouds hovering around, stars that sparkle with unimaginable glitter, nothing that can be compared to litter but a great portrayal of unfathomed potential. Last semester I learnt. Yes, I learnt.

Last semester I learnt that the greatest fear people have is the fear of letting others see their true light shining from deep within, the fear of striding out of their comfort zones and venturing into the unknown, the fear of being forsaken by “friends” for being yourself.

Last semester I learnt. Yes, I learnt.

Last semester I learnt that in this life we only live once and the one time we live we get so many people to meet; people who make us feel loved genuinely and others who dot their “i” and cross their “t” to ensure that they leave us with horrid scars. For some, we feel proud to be associated with but we regret why we ever had to meet others. All in all these people leave us rich with experience. Last semester I learnt. Yes, I learnt.

Last semester I learnt that falling in love is at times falling in lust and some of those claiming to be friends just want to be “friends with benefits” so that they can tear down young girls’ hearts into empty shells in order to puff up their egos. Last semester I learnt. Yes, I learnt.

Last semester I learnt not to trust anyone, not even myself but only the Lord God Almighty who lives within me. For He alone is holy and it is only Him that understands me and will protect, cherish and take me back even when I feel unworthy to stand in His presence. Yes, it is only God that can love me in a way that no one else can

Last semester I learnt. Yes, I learnt.

Until my resurrection…

Why I will never dream of Moi University after my graduation in 2012

I am making these ‘announcements’ fully aware of the killing cats down there. Down is relative, you know!

When and if I revert these golden ‘Until my Resurrection’ declarations, I will not fail to tell you why. One reason might be if I get a girlfriend who will still be studying here in this re-owned university. Let those explanations come when they are due.

When I imagine that more that Sh. 600, 000 comrades’ money has been squandered in the last two academic years, I fail to understand if we have leaders and readers. This money was awarded in the name of MUSO bursaries but never resurfaced. The question is; who ate the money? Until these Muso money stealers are prosecuted I will never visit Moi.

There is the shop tendering issue. Year in year out one Mr. Entrepreneur Muse has been winning all tenders. This year it is alleged that Muse has won the tenders courtesy of our outspoken Director Mr. Strongman. Until Muse loses a tender I will never visit Moi University.

26 years and still employees or have they grown up to be employers? A good question with more severe repercussions than meets the eyes and years. Do you really know what I am talking about? I guess not. Because us in Moi are still in the 1980s of the Nyayo torture chambers, I beg not to elaborate any further. For more clarifications please visit me on my way to lectures. Until….

Do you remember how these good young politicians told us before they were elected into office? They even went a step further into swearing an oath and pledging their loyalty to the MUSO Constitution! Do I say. Yes I should. These same directors have betrayed and abused comrades and were once last semester fighting on who will illegally take the shops and Chips Cafés promoting unyanyapaa. They have gone against the oath which required them to serve comrades with integrity without fear or favor. Talk of uncircumcised impunity. I suggest signatures to be collected and they face the full face of the law: waambie kuna katiba mpya mjini! Until all the 25th SGC Muso officials who illegally stole, ‘return’ the Shops and Chips Cafés, I will never visit Moi.

University buses! Ever asked yourself how many times you have ever boarded the university buses except when going for a funeral. Let’s start with me. This is my fourth year in campus but I have never even smelt the inside of any of these press-tegious buses. I hear they are individual owned though painted as ‘ours’. Did I say that? No, not me.

Just ‘Until my resurrection’.

Will you have a ressurective-full weekend, I know you will.

By Nyamweya Bw' Omari

How did you arrive in campus?

You may be asked that question one day. Answering will sure be hard. But I have friends in this campus who I know how they will answer, if they manage to answer it with their uttermost sincerity.

My roommate, S.K , 3rd year, will answer: I come from a village in the far north, having been the first person to receive a university calling letter. The village elder from the remote part decided to accord me a security man from amongst his ‘soldiers’ as he call them. On the day of reporting I was given a heroic sendoff, do not ask him why! A fleet of boda boda men ensured that the new village hero is sent for close to 40KM where they usually board matatus.

John, 2nd year BBM, will answer: it was a privilege to me and my family, nilijihisi mtu muhimu sana, village yangu ilikodisha matatu ilioniferry mpaka campo, huku maua ikitanda kila pande za nje za mathree hilo. Kana kwamba polisi wasiweze kunichelewesha kufika campo.

Onyango, 1st year, from Kogelo will answer: I arrived in campus with 3 sacks full of omena. The sacks were donations from my village mates who wanted to wish me well in Campus. As Lawi’s grandmother puts it “hata matumbo ni nyama”, Well, “hata omena ni samaki”. The 3 sacks that I always use to refreshen the air in Hostel C, have made me a hero amongst my Hostelmates. Recently they even suggested that I be the Hostel Representative in Omena Addicts and Consumers association.

Koech, 2nd year, from Kapsowar, will answer: Woiyeee! It was my first day boarding the Face Me Matatu accompanied by both parents and grandparents, mulsik kama kawa ama unaweza sahau hiyo.

But on arriving I was directed to the queue where I was asked my school. I quickly shouted “Uasin Gishu High School”. Which drove everybody in the queue into laughter.

Nyaduse, a 1st year CPR, will answer: Ilibidi gari la DO iwe hired kunileta campo kwani wazazi hawakuamini basi au matatu ingenifikisha salama.

Nyaboke, 3rd year BA, will answer: That she had to trek for close to 10KM to catch the only vehicle that is usually plying their route to Eldoret.

QUICK READS . . .

A condom manufacturing factory to be established in Thika Town to help increase the condom crisis in Kenya.

Moi University Premier League is set to kick off on 22nd August.

Prime Minister RT. HON. Raila Odinga dares the G-7 Alliance to nominate a candidate to face him in the 2012 General elections.

Moi University students set to fundraise for the ongoing Kenyans for Kenya initiative.

Kenya loses by solitary goal to Botswana in a FIFA friendly match played at the Botswana University in Gaborone, as England loses by the same margin to Nigeria.

Freshaz Night postponed to Friday 19th August says Mr. Frank Mwangi, MUSO Entertainment Director.

The writer is the Editor-In-Chief of the 3rd Eye and the Finance Director of MUISSA.

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