AN OPEN LETTER TO THE ADMINISTRATION

By Jeff Kenyatta

She’s not alone, that orphan; that comrade. For along the highway, I’ve met many, parched with thirst, dying of hunger over a ‘helbless’ semester; the voiceless unknowns.

I heard her cryptic call of help by the knock at my door. She’s got no parents, they both died. She’s left alone, soliciting funds from well-wishers to pay for her college fee and upkeep. Her last hope to clear fee – HELB, still remains a nightmare. A victim of circumstance, she’s bound to miss her exams.

It’s a cold world, an insensitive system. It turns a blind eye to the poor child seeking an education. It left her with no shelter – told her to clear fee and rent before she secures a room. Where should she turn to for help? MUSO bursary kitty is bankrupt. The work-study programs have turned into charity programs, operating under a “No Pay, No Say” philosophy. A system that’s told her she’s on her own.

She’s not alone, that orphan; that comrade.

I’ve heard the surging pain in the words of a fellow classmate: We wanted the HELB money to be reflected, not on BOARD WALLS but in our BANK ACCOUNTS. The applicant lists pinned at the Students’ Centre was bogus; its intention was to silence the noise.
I’ve felt the rush during the HELB protest. In the shouts and clamour, in the presence of comrades who’d rather be there than attend classes. In the eyes of young ladies; worn out, but still up in arms, tired with sour feet but who still had the audacity to march with us to the administration to agitate for our cause.

I’ve seen the agony in rooms with empty shelves and dry tins; the despair and anguish of going to class with a grumbling stomach. I’ve seen the shame in soliciting, merely begging, hand-outs from classmates because your pockets do not have even a single silver coin.

Hungry and tired, we’ve strolled in offices, big offices. From the Dean’s corridors, we’ve gone to the senate chambers. From Room 134 to the DVC’s office, we’ve met virtually anyone and everyone. In a promissory note, we were assured that in case HELB funds wouldn’t have been disbursed by now, exams scheduled from 24th would ultimately be postponed or successful loan applicants who’ve not cleared fee, would be an exempted case in the issuance of exam cards.

Today, friends think of deferring studies. Today, classmates cannot find the ease of revising with the dilemma on whether they’ll seat for their exams. Today, the destitute and poor continue to wallow in the miasma of hopelessness. The orphans wish their parents would be alive to solve their education nightmare.

Outright desperation has led children of men to sleep with dogs. No one asks why. Here, not so long ago, a student stole his friend’s laptop to sell it to settle his fee balance – a sum of Sh. 9000. No one asks why.

Today, let us search our hearts. Do unto other men’s children as you would want them to do unto yours. Underneath the clamour of buildings and our day’s pursuits, let us join reason to faith and experience to action to transform our unity of interest into unity of purpose.