MY YOLOFASITY IS FUNNY

By Maalim Salat

‘Wewe kijana, hii holiday yako abana kuisha?’ My father asked that question more times than the number of days Ogega and Kyalo lived in Hostel F. I then asked the old man whether he knows the name of the institution where I read books in order to get a certificate called ‘Dhigrii’. (For you to understand the meaning of the word ‘dhigrii’, try to pronounce it with the Somali accent. Yes, just try saying it as if you want to spit on my face, and faster, with kh-kh-kh in between the vowels. You did it right.) In other universities, people get degrees but in my university, you get dhigrii. In my mother tongue, dhigrii means something you get after you go through hell.

Sorry, I almost took you out of topic. I was talking about the mzee asking me about my unending holiday. He almost thought that I was chased away from the university because I either got a non-Somali girlfriend or I smuggled bombs and bullets there. By the way, before I forget, and I must have told you this, that the old man knows about hostel H. Whenever I have to travel to the university and ask him for pocket money, he says he’ll send it through M-Pesa the following day. If I insist on my desire to shop in Nairobi, he simply opens his mouth and shouts;

“Mi naona wewe nafikiria mimi mujinga iyah? Mi najua Moi yolofasiti iko bahali anaitwa Hakumatt kwa bahali vijana nalala. Huko nyinyi naita Hostel H iko kila kitu hata artificial Al-Shabab iko andani yake. Sikia mimi wara. Mimi natuma besa yako Mbesa halafu wewe toa halafu beleka hostel-H, nunua kila kitu, hata musichana ya kutoa baridi”.

You see, I hate to listen to him as he talks that much because by the end of such a lecture, he will have spat on my face a hundred and seventeen times. I like telling him more about Hostel H where all is under one roof but he rarely listens to me. He thinks he knows much more than the lecturers of Moi University.

These days, I hear that there is a clinic, a dispensary and a maternity ward in Hostel H. I can see the group of Dhogana and Dikembe are doing a good job. Our girls in Hostel J do not have to travel far to get artificial or natural children when they are about to finish form four of the university. When I become the chairman, I will make sure I introduce an abortion ward on the fourth floor where services will be free. Make sure you vote for me.

Kinyua Njeri, that boy who claims to be Uhuru’s cousin, and Mohamed Doyo, the Al-Shabab ambassador to Moi Yolofasity, must have told you that I am out of university, not because I was suspended until further notice, but because I am on an extra-long holiday. This is a holiday that can make us look ‘wayinga’.

I remember the other day when my classmate called me and told me that a woman called Margaret Thatcher died. She then goes ahead and, imagine a whole fourth year communication student, asks me, “Na huyo alikuwa lecturer mgani?” Hakuna haja ya kusema uwongo. I used to hear about a lecturer called Margaret Thatcher in Moi Yolofasity but not about where she taught.

In order to confirm, I called one Moses Nyamori, who also happens to be on a long holiday like me, and asked him about a lecturer called Margaret Thatcher in Moi Yolofasity. The only answer I could get from this Omena product is, “I think ako school of I.S, ebu uliza Kihara”. I was later informed by a fresher, the one I already booked to be my girlfriend when we return, that Margaret Thatcher is the name of the library and that the library did not collapse.

That is what is happening to those of us who are on long holiday. Worse still, I am at a village deep in North Eastern where we heard about Uhuru’s presidency in May. Until then, our people believed that the president was Moi, Kibaki or Raila.

I want to take this opportunity to request the university administration and serikali ya Dhogana to take us through an orientation process when we come back to the university after the further notice ends. I wish hata ningeoa bibi, by now my first born would be in class one. Maze, this holiday is too long!