By Dun Kimaru
Just the other day I came back from the exam room only to realize that my laptop was gone. It was a lot to take in after a challenging paper. That was just heartless. I bet if the devil had a physical body he would be this person. The fact that the person had very good knowledge of my whereabouts and the room’s hiding places just goes to prove that he was no amateur. The intelligence gathering of this cartel is one to be envied by our security personnel. And just a heads up, having an antigen does not ensure safety any more.
This being my second laptop to go in as many years, I guess I also deserve some credit. I can comfortably win the ‘most careless student’ award as I am one of the single highest contributors of ‘ponyoka na laptop’ promotion. And since no solution is forthcoming, even with the arrest and confessions of some culprits, I have decided to come up with my own. This is after the humble realization that we are powerless and helpless at the hands of these devils. They are literally the masters and we are just their slaves. Therefore the best course of action is to negotiate with the terrorists (we are no damn US).
With the above resume, I believe I deserve a seat on the virtual negotiating table. So here is the deal ‘masters’: We acknowledge your prowess and our helplessness. But it beats logic that you take expensive gadgets and sell them at throwaway prices in town after our precious data is formatted. It is a lose-lose situation for both of us.
Here is our offer, we will be accepting our laptops back at a slightly higher price than ‘our competitors’ and please don’t format them. In exchange, we will offer you anonymity and just treat it as a business venture (no hard feelings!) In short, just treat them as hostages and demand reasonable ransom. We are not bad people, we will pay and even thank you. We will be waiting by our phones since it isn’t hard for you to get our numbers.
However, as the negotiations go on I have bought myself a five litre jerrycan of petrol and a match box. I have suspended all cooking activities in my room just to be safe. The next time I hear the word ‘mwizi’ there will be plenty of ‘nyamchom.’ The sweet aroma of burning human flesh and cries of agony are the only things that can appease my ailing soul. After all it is my money’s worth of body fats and oils I will be burning.
In the meantime, naomba serikali iingilie kati. Your excellence, about the laptop you promised my future son, there have been some developments and I kindly need it now. Rest assured that he won’t mind my doing so. And by the way where the hell is Wezesha? Since I cannot afford a third laptop I have resorted to reading books like, “How to be a Millionaire in Thirty Days” and “An Idiot’s Guide to Money Making”. Call it desperation if you like.
When I finished writing this article on some foolscaps, I turned to my roommate and said the words I have come to loathe. Words that I last said a year ago; words that no one with two HP receipts should ever have to say. “Nisaidie na laptop.”
Saturday, May 18, 2013
CELEBRATING MOTHERS
By Mohammed Doyo
You are in deep trouble. Every friend has forsaken you. Your girl/boyfriend is not picking your calls. Your siblings’ phones are either too busy or switched off. Every other person you know can’t really help. Just when you are about to give up, a thought strikes. You have a mother. You hurriedly dial her up. Within seconds, a warm sound of ‘How you are my son/daughter?’ welcomes you. Her ever lovely angelic voice greets you. She quickly asks what the problem is, emphatically listens to you and promises to do everything in her means to save the situation. And true to her words, promises are kept. This is a mother.
From that lady who sweeps the town streets early in the cold to that woman who sells mandazis and tea at construction sites; from that woman who hawks stuff at bus stations to that woman who cleans the university corridors. From that secretary in the office to that teacher in the classroom; all are working extra hard to see to it that their beloved children eat, wear and sleep happily. Yes, they do all these expecting nothing in return.
Last week we celebrated Mother’s day. And in the true spirit of our Kenyan culture, social media was awash with all sorts of praises. Yes, praising and honouring our dear mothers. But isn’t it supposed to be mother’s day every day?
A mother is a precious gift from God. A gift that is irreplaceable. From the very first day, you were formed in her womb to the present when you are an adult, her enduring love and never-dwindling protection has been with you. Her prayers in the morning start with you and still end with you in the late night after a busy day of toiling hard.
How many of us are proud enough to walk with our mums in the streets and introduce them to our friends? I understand some of us in teenage life and early twenties would never want people to find out who our mums were, leave alone making introductions. Why? Is it because you are not proud enough to be associated with your mother or perhaps you fear that your friends will make judgements about her?
Whether old, blind, illiterate, physically challenged or poor she remains your mother and you will never find anyone like her. It’s time you began accepting, appreciating and loving her before the cliché ‘You never know what you got till it’s gone’ starts making sense to you.
In some cases, conflicts between you and your mum arise. Maybe you dishonestly solicited cash from her or she caught you on the wrong side of the law. A heated ‘msomo’ ensued. She may have even come up with strict penalties to ‘put you in control’. More often than not, we get angry and sometimes carry ill feelings about her. But believe you me, a mother does all these purely out of love and the desire to see a well brought up man/woman who the society finds useful.
Let’s appreciate our mothers. Let her happiness be your happiness. When the time comes, let her also enjoy the fruits of your hard work. Do not make her cry. One day, you will be answerable for every painful tear she sheds because of you.
And now, it wouldn’t be too hard to let your mother know the love you got for her while she is still here with you, would it? It is only a phone call away. You know, as they say, nobody knows about tomorrow.
You are in deep trouble. Every friend has forsaken you. Your girl/boyfriend is not picking your calls. Your siblings’ phones are either too busy or switched off. Every other person you know can’t really help. Just when you are about to give up, a thought strikes. You have a mother. You hurriedly dial her up. Within seconds, a warm sound of ‘How you are my son/daughter?’ welcomes you. Her ever lovely angelic voice greets you. She quickly asks what the problem is, emphatically listens to you and promises to do everything in her means to save the situation. And true to her words, promises are kept. This is a mother.
From that lady who sweeps the town streets early in the cold to that woman who sells mandazis and tea at construction sites; from that woman who hawks stuff at bus stations to that woman who cleans the university corridors. From that secretary in the office to that teacher in the classroom; all are working extra hard to see to it that their beloved children eat, wear and sleep happily. Yes, they do all these expecting nothing in return.
Last week we celebrated Mother’s day. And in the true spirit of our Kenyan culture, social media was awash with all sorts of praises. Yes, praising and honouring our dear mothers. But isn’t it supposed to be mother’s day every day?
A mother is a precious gift from God. A gift that is irreplaceable. From the very first day, you were formed in her womb to the present when you are an adult, her enduring love and never-dwindling protection has been with you. Her prayers in the morning start with you and still end with you in the late night after a busy day of toiling hard.
How many of us are proud enough to walk with our mums in the streets and introduce them to our friends? I understand some of us in teenage life and early twenties would never want people to find out who our mums were, leave alone making introductions. Why? Is it because you are not proud enough to be associated with your mother or perhaps you fear that your friends will make judgements about her?
Whether old, blind, illiterate, physically challenged or poor she remains your mother and you will never find anyone like her. It’s time you began accepting, appreciating and loving her before the cliché ‘You never know what you got till it’s gone’ starts making sense to you.
In some cases, conflicts between you and your mum arise. Maybe you dishonestly solicited cash from her or she caught you on the wrong side of the law. A heated ‘msomo’ ensued. She may have even come up with strict penalties to ‘put you in control’. More often than not, we get angry and sometimes carry ill feelings about her. But believe you me, a mother does all these purely out of love and the desire to see a well brought up man/woman who the society finds useful.
Let’s appreciate our mothers. Let her happiness be your happiness. When the time comes, let her also enjoy the fruits of your hard work. Do not make her cry. One day, you will be answerable for every painful tear she sheds because of you.
And now, it wouldn’t be too hard to let your mother know the love you got for her while she is still here with you, would it? It is only a phone call away. You know, as they say, nobody knows about tomorrow.
Friday, May 17, 2013
THE "HILARIOUS" HELB
By Livingstone Otieno
Monopoly exists when a specific person or institution is the only supplier of a particular commodity whether it is a good or service. This means the supplier dictates terms and conditions of the operation creating the concept of coercion were you have to since no option is available.
One institution which has enjoyed monopolistic existence in the academic circles is the Higher Education Loans Board. As a monolith, it has ensured that dynamic and realistic students’ financial obligations do not evolve in relation to changing economic trends.
If there is an institution that needs digital prescription then HELB tops the list. Here, paper work still reigns like the ten virgins. Here, simple anomalies which require a click of a button to correct take a complete financial year.
At the HELB headquarters housed at the Anniversary towers, service delivery is confused with service delaying. Clients are treated like recipients of donations from God knows which philanthropic entities. Here, service offered to clients who happen to be students are privileges which can be withdrawn depending on the mood of the service giver.
This is the institution where one can spend the better part of the semester queuing just to correct a misspelling in their names.
The mistreatment one is subjected is yet to reach its crescendo when HELB gives a manual on how to spend the peanuts which to our MPs could be pocket change. The institution is in the process of introducing visa cards even before addressing the very mundane and simple challenges that taint its services.
What has never dawned on this institution is that the money they shylock to students is not a grant. It is neither a freebee nor a support fund like CDF. This is not a grant to begin laying procedure for its expenditure.
Loans remain loans whether clothed under higher loans scheme or given directly from banks. No bank – world over – sub-divides the loans it gives to its clients then goes ahead to direct them where, how and when to use it.
This is ridiculous, hilarious and akin to being authoritative and sectarian in nature. We have come a long way in achieving the freedom of choice and one querulous body whose mandate is solely to finance higher education should stick to that or seek more powers.
My mind tells me the higher hierarchy of HELB is colluding with some established retail chains to ensure that this loan ends up in these shops through strict usage of the proposed VISA CARD in particular outlets.
Somebody tell, HELB, an Honorable University Student (HUS) cannot pay school fees, accommodation and afford a decent meal with Kshs. 13,000 for a whole semester. That is to say, you cannot live with Khs.13,000 in form of a loan for four months and avoid engaging in pornographic acts like what happened in MOMBASA! This is even more complicated if you’re a LUO.
Monopoly exists when a specific person or institution is the only supplier of a particular commodity whether it is a good or service. This means the supplier dictates terms and conditions of the operation creating the concept of coercion were you have to since no option is available.
One institution which has enjoyed monopolistic existence in the academic circles is the Higher Education Loans Board. As a monolith, it has ensured that dynamic and realistic students’ financial obligations do not evolve in relation to changing economic trends.
If there is an institution that needs digital prescription then HELB tops the list. Here, paper work still reigns like the ten virgins. Here, simple anomalies which require a click of a button to correct take a complete financial year.
At the HELB headquarters housed at the Anniversary towers, service delivery is confused with service delaying. Clients are treated like recipients of donations from God knows which philanthropic entities. Here, service offered to clients who happen to be students are privileges which can be withdrawn depending on the mood of the service giver.
This is the institution where one can spend the better part of the semester queuing just to correct a misspelling in their names.
The mistreatment one is subjected is yet to reach its crescendo when HELB gives a manual on how to spend the peanuts which to our MPs could be pocket change. The institution is in the process of introducing visa cards even before addressing the very mundane and simple challenges that taint its services.
What has never dawned on this institution is that the money they shylock to students is not a grant. It is neither a freebee nor a support fund like CDF. This is not a grant to begin laying procedure for its expenditure.
Loans remain loans whether clothed under higher loans scheme or given directly from banks. No bank – world over – sub-divides the loans it gives to its clients then goes ahead to direct them where, how and when to use it.
This is ridiculous, hilarious and akin to being authoritative and sectarian in nature. We have come a long way in achieving the freedom of choice and one querulous body whose mandate is solely to finance higher education should stick to that or seek more powers.
My mind tells me the higher hierarchy of HELB is colluding with some established retail chains to ensure that this loan ends up in these shops through strict usage of the proposed VISA CARD in particular outlets.
Somebody tell, HELB, an Honorable University Student (HUS) cannot pay school fees, accommodation and afford a decent meal with Kshs. 13,000 for a whole semester. That is to say, you cannot live with Khs.13,000 in form of a loan for four months and avoid engaging in pornographic acts like what happened in MOMBASA! This is even more complicated if you’re a LUO.
HOW GROUP ASSIGNMENTS REVEAL INDIVIDUAL TRAITS
By Mohammed Doyo
Of the four years you spend in the University, a third of your time is spent doing group assignments. (OK, Don’t ask which research came up with this. I made it up.) Can we move on now? In Moi University, you’ll probably have done more group ‘assignos’ than individual ones thanks to curriculum developers who believe that group assignments facilitate teamwork. Well, to some of us who dare to think differently, this belief largely remains debatable.
However, one point is not debatable. Group assignments do not receive much love from the students.
So which kinds of students emerge in group work?
The Attention Seeker
This student will rack his brains off to keep the ladies in the group impressed. This guy believes he is a cousin to Google. He knows everything under the sun. More often than not, he will try to pull an ‘Albert Einstein’ in making explanations. Moreover, he will volunteer to be the group leader and try to crack some ‘anhydrous’ jokes make nobody laugh. However, ladies often loathe such characters who try hard to impress. And sadly, men never learn.
The One Man Army
These students are often quiet but focused. In most instances where conflicting ideas emerge, these students have their ideas stamped in the final paper perhaps because of their knowledgeable stature and confidence in convincing the rest of the group members. In cases where a section of the members are lazy and too uncooperative, they take the initiative to do the assignments on their own. However, where the captain of this Titanic ship steers toward the iceberg, sinking is inevitable.
The Backbenchers
These are the free riders. Funny enough, they attend all sessions but make no meaningful contribution. They follow the wave more than Kalembe Ndile in Ukambani politics. They agree with every single suggestion or points put across by members without involving the brain. To them every response is an ‘Ummh yes’, I agree to that! Good, I was thinking of the same’ and other annoying forms of crap.
The Tsimonjeros (jokers)
The word ‘serious’ does not exist in their dictionary. These guys often make technical appearances in group meetings an hour late and leave almost immediately after making the usual not-so-convincing excuses. Others don’t even bother to attend probably because of the inspiration they draw from their area MPs who only attend parliamentary sessions when motions involving pay hikes and allowances are discussed. They contribute little to the group apart from maybe typing and printing the assignment.
The Ghost Worker
We live in a country where connections can secure you anything. Getting your name on the cover page of the assignment without participation is no exception. The ghost workers, in most instances, are out of school and never attend any lectures, leave alone group meetings. And thanks to their friends, they always manage to cunningly use other students’ efforts to get a portion of the 15 marks. Another harmful breed of ghost workers appears unexpectedly at the eleventh hour to group work submission and pleads to be included.
After reading this ‘lengthy piece’, I am sure you have identified who you are, haven’t you?
Of the four years you spend in the University, a third of your time is spent doing group assignments. (OK, Don’t ask which research came up with this. I made it up.) Can we move on now? In Moi University, you’ll probably have done more group ‘assignos’ than individual ones thanks to curriculum developers who believe that group assignments facilitate teamwork. Well, to some of us who dare to think differently, this belief largely remains debatable.
However, one point is not debatable. Group assignments do not receive much love from the students.
So which kinds of students emerge in group work?
The Attention Seeker
This student will rack his brains off to keep the ladies in the group impressed. This guy believes he is a cousin to Google. He knows everything under the sun. More often than not, he will try to pull an ‘Albert Einstein’ in making explanations. Moreover, he will volunteer to be the group leader and try to crack some ‘anhydrous’ jokes make nobody laugh. However, ladies often loathe such characters who try hard to impress. And sadly, men never learn.
The One Man Army
These students are often quiet but focused. In most instances where conflicting ideas emerge, these students have their ideas stamped in the final paper perhaps because of their knowledgeable stature and confidence in convincing the rest of the group members. In cases where a section of the members are lazy and too uncooperative, they take the initiative to do the assignments on their own. However, where the captain of this Titanic ship steers toward the iceberg, sinking is inevitable.
The Backbenchers
These are the free riders. Funny enough, they attend all sessions but make no meaningful contribution. They follow the wave more than Kalembe Ndile in Ukambani politics. They agree with every single suggestion or points put across by members without involving the brain. To them every response is an ‘Ummh yes’, I agree to that! Good, I was thinking of the same’ and other annoying forms of crap.
The Tsimonjeros (jokers)
The word ‘serious’ does not exist in their dictionary. These guys often make technical appearances in group meetings an hour late and leave almost immediately after making the usual not-so-convincing excuses. Others don’t even bother to attend probably because of the inspiration they draw from their area MPs who only attend parliamentary sessions when motions involving pay hikes and allowances are discussed. They contribute little to the group apart from maybe typing and printing the assignment.
The Ghost Worker
We live in a country where connections can secure you anything. Getting your name on the cover page of the assignment without participation is no exception. The ghost workers, in most instances, are out of school and never attend any lectures, leave alone group meetings. And thanks to their friends, they always manage to cunningly use other students’ efforts to get a portion of the 15 marks. Another harmful breed of ghost workers appears unexpectedly at the eleventh hour to group work submission and pleads to be included.
After reading this ‘lengthy piece’, I am sure you have identified who you are, haven’t you?
Thursday, May 16, 2013
THE RESURRECTION OF ACTIVISM IN MUSO
By Governor Joel Evans
Activism is not radicalism though both concepts subscribe to the philosophies of “silence never won any rights” and “dialogue is a waste of time.” Comrades’ power! It’s time we stopped playing the politics of an ostrich by burying our heads in the sand and assuming that all is well or is going to be well.
The substantial MUSO passed away few years back and was buried six feet under. What we are left with today as the remnant is a ghost of MUSO, a shadow of MUSO, a scarecrow of MUSO or you may call it a caricature of MUSO. We have blamed MUSO endlessly in the current times but what we have failed to understand is that we remain lame as long as we blame.
Fellow comrades, what happened to the spirit of comradeship and unity of comrade-hood within the student fraternity? What happened to the forces that fought tooth and nail for the liberation of comrades from the sharp canines of the cannibalistic bureaucrats?
When did this unfounded concept of “fear and intimidation” take ground to wobble the strength of the unity of comrades? Who confused comrades and made them believe that many a time a comrade is always wrong? Why isn’t MUSO active in national politics and developmental agenda yet university students are the country’s technocrats tomorrow?
Well, it is basically because we the comrades lack vigour. We are waiting for miracles to happen and bring change; little do we know that in power-politics, superstitions never exist. We have forgotten that a comrade is always right. It’s the high time we bring to life that dead lion that used to roar and walls would crack literally. It’s time we resurrected MUSO.
Facebooking and tweeting our grievances tirelessly will not bring any solutions to our never-ending problems. However, putting our differences aside and coming out in unison to vet the most appropriate channel to air challenges and a measure that will have an immediate feedback is what will mark The Rebirth of MUSO. Comrades’ power!
Salvation shall neither come from Kesses nor shall it come from Cheptiret but from the blood that flows in the veins of the comrades. Comrades’ power! What we crave for is a MUSO that can talk and have a stand on its own compared to a dumb one, one that can say politely yet firmly that on behalf of comrades we will not allow the usage of smart-cards as a new government policy to consume HELB loans.
Loans are not grants thus no need to monitor how the loanee uses the money yet he/she will repay. For the sake of peace let that policy be subjected to the legislature or university unions all over the country under the single organization that binds them to commence collecting signatures. Comrades’ power! That is the Neo-MUSO we want.
Don’t tell me words don’t matter.
Activism is not radicalism though both concepts subscribe to the philosophies of “silence never won any rights” and “dialogue is a waste of time.” Comrades’ power! It’s time we stopped playing the politics of an ostrich by burying our heads in the sand and assuming that all is well or is going to be well.
The substantial MUSO passed away few years back and was buried six feet under. What we are left with today as the remnant is a ghost of MUSO, a shadow of MUSO, a scarecrow of MUSO or you may call it a caricature of MUSO. We have blamed MUSO endlessly in the current times but what we have failed to understand is that we remain lame as long as we blame.
Fellow comrades, what happened to the spirit of comradeship and unity of comrade-hood within the student fraternity? What happened to the forces that fought tooth and nail for the liberation of comrades from the sharp canines of the cannibalistic bureaucrats?
When did this unfounded concept of “fear and intimidation” take ground to wobble the strength of the unity of comrades? Who confused comrades and made them believe that many a time a comrade is always wrong? Why isn’t MUSO active in national politics and developmental agenda yet university students are the country’s technocrats tomorrow?
Well, it is basically because we the comrades lack vigour. We are waiting for miracles to happen and bring change; little do we know that in power-politics, superstitions never exist. We have forgotten that a comrade is always right. It’s the high time we bring to life that dead lion that used to roar and walls would crack literally. It’s time we resurrected MUSO.
Facebooking and tweeting our grievances tirelessly will not bring any solutions to our never-ending problems. However, putting our differences aside and coming out in unison to vet the most appropriate channel to air challenges and a measure that will have an immediate feedback is what will mark The Rebirth of MUSO. Comrades’ power!
Salvation shall neither come from Kesses nor shall it come from Cheptiret but from the blood that flows in the veins of the comrades. Comrades’ power! What we crave for is a MUSO that can talk and have a stand on its own compared to a dumb one, one that can say politely yet firmly that on behalf of comrades we will not allow the usage of smart-cards as a new government policy to consume HELB loans.
Loans are not grants thus no need to monitor how the loanee uses the money yet he/she will repay. For the sake of peace let that policy be subjected to the legislature or university unions all over the country under the single organization that binds them to commence collecting signatures. Comrades’ power! That is the Neo-MUSO we want.
Don’t tell me words don’t matter.
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!
‘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!
I AM PROUD OF MOI
By Wesonga Quintas
Such a title as it appears may attract very few readers in Moi if any. This is so even for me because of the unbearable evils being witnessed in the varsity currently. With the coming of double intake, the situation has worsened and the same is set to persist up to around 2015. That notwithstanding, I go ahead. I am proud of Moi.
We have complained so much such that I bet if our grievances were to be consolidated, we could come up with yet another book of lamentations. I have consoled and persuaded myself to look at bad things with a good eye. So today I try to find a good grain from a heap of chuff. Sincerely, there are some good things in Moi that are not to be found anywhere with same magnitude. Here we go:
Of all the old and mushrooming universities in Kenya, only Moi University was established as a university from the onset. This followed the recommendation by the Prof. McKay commission of 1981. All others were either colleges or TTCs which were later converted to start offering degrees. Whether these colleges-turned universities are doing better than us or not, this fact still holds water. This is the same professor after whom a building is named at the School of Technology in Ngeria.
If still not satisfied that Moi has something good, the University has the largest number of campuses in the country. In every former province in Kenya, the colours of Moi University are evident. Hate it but that is the case.
The mention of campuses could cause someone to feel like throwing up as they ask of what importance it is to them. Simply learn to look at bad things with a good eye. Still, we have, if I may say, given birth to the highest number of universities and university colleges in the country so as to expand university education as targeted in vision 2030. Starting from 1990 with Maseno, the reproduction rate has accelerated with the recent giving birth to 3 universities in one week. This included University of Eldoret, Maasai Mara University and University of Kabianga. However, care should be taken so as not to allow children to outgrow their mother as they may.
Visit other universities and you will come back smiling! In Moi, water is never a problem. We can afford to let water run for 48 hours without even realizing. There is plenty. In addition, we have serene sites where one can visit just to relax and have a picnic. Falls, Kesses dam, and Ngeria Forest are all at your disposal. In other places such are only available at a fee.
If you are such a hater who still cannot find anything good, complete studies then present your papers for employment and see the respect they attract. Just the name of Moi alone! This is so despite the low amounts of fee we pay here compared to our counterparts in those other places some people wish they were. This is the place to be.
Talk of lenience and you are synonymous to Moi. It is only here that both GSSP and PSSP students are treated almost equally. Accommodation in hostels for PSSP students and those on mature entry is not just a dream but impossible elsewhere. In fact in some universities, JAB and PSSP students have separate student bodies. Here, our useless MUSO unites us all.
Should anyone need freedom, this is the place to be. Attending classes is generally optional. This is where lecturers have a huge smile. In other varsities, at the end of each semester, students evaluate lecturers and errant ones are sent packing. In Moi, whether they teach or not, lecturers smile all the way to the bank. No lecturer should complain of anything while teaching in Moi. It is suicidal.
Whenever you cook in your room, thank God it is in Moi. The “No cooking” rule is only existent in the green book. In KU, there is a common kitchen whereas elsewhere, there is no cooking at all.
Still not satisfied? Campus media like this one is to be found only in Moi. Imagine of such anywhere else and it is a dream. Just learn to see bad things with a good eye.
The 3rd Eye wishes to convey heartfelt condolences to the writer for the loss of his father.
Such a title as it appears may attract very few readers in Moi if any. This is so even for me because of the unbearable evils being witnessed in the varsity currently. With the coming of double intake, the situation has worsened and the same is set to persist up to around 2015. That notwithstanding, I go ahead. I am proud of Moi.
We have complained so much such that I bet if our grievances were to be consolidated, we could come up with yet another book of lamentations. I have consoled and persuaded myself to look at bad things with a good eye. So today I try to find a good grain from a heap of chuff. Sincerely, there are some good things in Moi that are not to be found anywhere with same magnitude. Here we go:
Of all the old and mushrooming universities in Kenya, only Moi University was established as a university from the onset. This followed the recommendation by the Prof. McKay commission of 1981. All others were either colleges or TTCs which were later converted to start offering degrees. Whether these colleges-turned universities are doing better than us or not, this fact still holds water. This is the same professor after whom a building is named at the School of Technology in Ngeria.
If still not satisfied that Moi has something good, the University has the largest number of campuses in the country. In every former province in Kenya, the colours of Moi University are evident. Hate it but that is the case.
The mention of campuses could cause someone to feel like throwing up as they ask of what importance it is to them. Simply learn to look at bad things with a good eye. Still, we have, if I may say, given birth to the highest number of universities and university colleges in the country so as to expand university education as targeted in vision 2030. Starting from 1990 with Maseno, the reproduction rate has accelerated with the recent giving birth to 3 universities in one week. This included University of Eldoret, Maasai Mara University and University of Kabianga. However, care should be taken so as not to allow children to outgrow their mother as they may.
Visit other universities and you will come back smiling! In Moi, water is never a problem. We can afford to let water run for 48 hours without even realizing. There is plenty. In addition, we have serene sites where one can visit just to relax and have a picnic. Falls, Kesses dam, and Ngeria Forest are all at your disposal. In other places such are only available at a fee.
If you are such a hater who still cannot find anything good, complete studies then present your papers for employment and see the respect they attract. Just the name of Moi alone! This is so despite the low amounts of fee we pay here compared to our counterparts in those other places some people wish they were. This is the place to be.
Talk of lenience and you are synonymous to Moi. It is only here that both GSSP and PSSP students are treated almost equally. Accommodation in hostels for PSSP students and those on mature entry is not just a dream but impossible elsewhere. In fact in some universities, JAB and PSSP students have separate student bodies. Here, our useless MUSO unites us all.
Should anyone need freedom, this is the place to be. Attending classes is generally optional. This is where lecturers have a huge smile. In other varsities, at the end of each semester, students evaluate lecturers and errant ones are sent packing. In Moi, whether they teach or not, lecturers smile all the way to the bank. No lecturer should complain of anything while teaching in Moi. It is suicidal.
Whenever you cook in your room, thank God it is in Moi. The “No cooking” rule is only existent in the green book. In KU, there is a common kitchen whereas elsewhere, there is no cooking at all.
Still not satisfied? Campus media like this one is to be found only in Moi. Imagine of such anywhere else and it is a dream. Just learn to see bad things with a good eye.
The 3rd Eye wishes to convey heartfelt condolences to the writer for the loss of his father.
I AM PROUD OF MOI
By Wesonga Quintas
Such a title as it appears may attract very few readers in Moi if any. This is so even for me because of the unbearable evils being witnessed in the varsity currently. With the coming of double intake, the situation has worsened and the same is set to persist up to around 2015. That notwithstanding, I go ahead. I am proud of Moi.
We have complained so much such that I bet if our grievances were to be consolidated, we could come up with yet another book of lamentations. I have consoled and persuaded myself to look at bad things with a good eye. So today I try to find a good grain from a heap of chuff. Sincerely, there are some good things in Moi that are not to be found anywhere with same magnitude. Here we go:
Of all the old and mushrooming universities in Kenya, only Moi University was established as a university from the onset. This followed the recommendation by the Prof. McKay commission of 1981. All others were either colleges or TTCs which were later converted to start offering degrees. Whether these colleges-turned universities are doing better than us or not, this fact still holds water. This is the same professor after whom a building is named at the School of Technology in Ngeria.
If still not satisfied that Moi has something good, the University has the largest number of campuses in the country. In every former province in Kenya, the colours of Moi University are evident. Hate it but that is the case.
The mention of campuses could cause someone to feel like throwing up as they ask of what importance it is to them. Simply learn to look at bad things with a good eye. Still, we have, if I may say, given birth to the highest number of universities and university colleges in the country so as to expand university education as targeted in vision 2030. Starting from 1990 with Maseno, the reproduction rate has accelerated with the recent giving birth to 3 universities in one week. This included University of Eldoret, Maasai Mara University and University of Kabianga. However, care should be taken so as not to allow children to outgrow their mother as they may.
Visit other universities and you will come back smiling! In Moi, water is never a problem. We can afford to let water run for 48 hours without even realizing. There is plenty. In addition, we have serene sites where one can visit just to relax and have a picnic. Falls, Kesses dam, and Ngeria Forest are all at your disposal. In other places such are only available at a fee.
If you are such a hater who still cannot find anything good, complete studies then present your papers for employment and see the respect they attract. Just the name of Moi alone! This is so despite the low amounts of fee we pay here compared to our counterparts in those other places some people wish they were. This is the place to be.
Talk of lenience and you are synonymous to Moi. It is only here that both GSSP and PSSP students are treated almost equally. Accommodation in hostels for PSSP students and those on mature entry is not just a dream but impossible elsewhere. In fact in some universities, JAB and PSSP students have separate student bodies. Here, our useless MUSO unites us all.
Should anyone need freedom, this is the place to be. Attending classes is generally optional. This is where lecturers have a huge smile. In other varsities, at the end of each semester, students evaluate lecturers and errant ones are sent packing. In Moi, whether they teach or not, lecturers smile all the way to the bank. No lecturer should complain of anything while teaching in Moi. It is suicidal.
Whenever you cook in your room, thank God it is in Moi. The “No cooking” rule is only existent in the green book. In KU, there is a common kitchen whereas elsewhere, there is no cooking at all.
Still not satisfied? Campus media like this one is to be found only in Moi. Imagine of such anywhere else and it is a dream. Just learn to see bad things with a good eye.
The 3rd Eye wishes to convey heartfelt condolences to the writer for the loss of his father.
Such a title as it appears may attract very few readers in Moi if any. This is so even for me because of the unbearable evils being witnessed in the varsity currently. With the coming of double intake, the situation has worsened and the same is set to persist up to around 2015. That notwithstanding, I go ahead. I am proud of Moi.
We have complained so much such that I bet if our grievances were to be consolidated, we could come up with yet another book of lamentations. I have consoled and persuaded myself to look at bad things with a good eye. So today I try to find a good grain from a heap of chuff. Sincerely, there are some good things in Moi that are not to be found anywhere with same magnitude. Here we go:
Of all the old and mushrooming universities in Kenya, only Moi University was established as a university from the onset. This followed the recommendation by the Prof. McKay commission of 1981. All others were either colleges or TTCs which were later converted to start offering degrees. Whether these colleges-turned universities are doing better than us or not, this fact still holds water. This is the same professor after whom a building is named at the School of Technology in Ngeria.
If still not satisfied that Moi has something good, the University has the largest number of campuses in the country. In every former province in Kenya, the colours of Moi University are evident. Hate it but that is the case.
The mention of campuses could cause someone to feel like throwing up as they ask of what importance it is to them. Simply learn to look at bad things with a good eye. Still, we have, if I may say, given birth to the highest number of universities and university colleges in the country so as to expand university education as targeted in vision 2030. Starting from 1990 with Maseno, the reproduction rate has accelerated with the recent giving birth to 3 universities in one week. This included University of Eldoret, Maasai Mara University and University of Kabianga. However, care should be taken so as not to allow children to outgrow their mother as they may.
Visit other universities and you will come back smiling! In Moi, water is never a problem. We can afford to let water run for 48 hours without even realizing. There is plenty. In addition, we have serene sites where one can visit just to relax and have a picnic. Falls, Kesses dam, and Ngeria Forest are all at your disposal. In other places such are only available at a fee.
If you are such a hater who still cannot find anything good, complete studies then present your papers for employment and see the respect they attract. Just the name of Moi alone! This is so despite the low amounts of fee we pay here compared to our counterparts in those other places some people wish they were. This is the place to be.
Talk of lenience and you are synonymous to Moi. It is only here that both GSSP and PSSP students are treated almost equally. Accommodation in hostels for PSSP students and those on mature entry is not just a dream but impossible elsewhere. In fact in some universities, JAB and PSSP students have separate student bodies. Here, our useless MUSO unites us all.
Should anyone need freedom, this is the place to be. Attending classes is generally optional. This is where lecturers have a huge smile. In other varsities, at the end of each semester, students evaluate lecturers and errant ones are sent packing. In Moi, whether they teach or not, lecturers smile all the way to the bank. No lecturer should complain of anything while teaching in Moi. It is suicidal.
Whenever you cook in your room, thank God it is in Moi. The “No cooking” rule is only existent in the green book. In KU, there is a common kitchen whereas elsewhere, there is no cooking at all.
Still not satisfied? Campus media like this one is to be found only in Moi. Imagine of such anywhere else and it is a dream. Just learn to see bad things with a good eye.
The 3rd Eye wishes to convey heartfelt condolences to the writer for the loss of his father.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
HAIL THE SHOPKEEPERS
By Remington Miheso
I have sort of developed some kind of respect for the 26th group of shopkeepers. I am still yet to understand why. I am told that they are supposed to have vacated their shops (offices) long time ago but for one reason or another are still forcing themselves to serve us. I really like this bunch of guys, they make life in Moi High School easy to cope with despite all the challenges presented to us. I think this is because the group comprises of some very unique fellows, guys who choose to work from their shops while ‘serving’ us instead of the offices they are given. Some have even chosen to use technology (phones) to serve us.
I once visited a director who resides in hostel E only to be told by her room-mate that she doesn't operate manually like she used to. That I should call her on the phone she bought with the money she earned after being elected as a director. Trust me, she didn't own a phone before she landed the opportunity to sit in ‘her’ shop at the Students’ Centre and listen to our problems while providing solutions at the same time.
These guys are special due to the fact that the school they are in also has its own uniqueness. This is the only university in Kenya where life begins from speculations which later become true. Honestly speaking, I have never heard of a plan that goes through without changes in this University with differences from its ‘sister’ school, Moi High School. Last semester I had oriented my mind to study till I am through with my third year before that plan was rudely interrupted by the school when they had to send us home to pave way for another group to come and enjoy staying in this very wonderful school.
I thus went home a very de-psyched guy. I had to look for an alternative way to spend and thus went to look for internship which was not a very easy task having in mind that I am a media student. Before I could even start working, the university decided that it was time we came back and worse still, they never communicated officially, I only received a text, 'tunarudi shule 15th!' Or maybe they communicated but I didn't see it.
This is why it has some of the most ‘respected’ student’s leaders, guys who choose to involve themselves much in matters affecting the University of Nairobi other than Moi University, I guess their ego can’t allow them to associate with this school in the forest. I think before the guys assume their roles as our shopkeepers they should first vow to love and protect this university at all costs even when it has some of the oldest facilities in Kenya. I also think we do not need to vote in future, they should just be interviewed with questions like, have you ever operated a business or if you are given the opportunity of being a director, which shop do would you choose.
There is this one guy whose name I find so unique, it resembles something like the end month of the year. At first I thought he was the boss of all the shops only to be disappointed by being told that he is a minor director. This is the only guy who can scream on Facebook till all his friends block him, including his first year girlfriend who doesn't even know the meaning of a social site. He seems to serve students more on Facebook than while in school. I am told he even has an office on Facebook. I am yet to confirm that. He is the only guy who can wear anything and still look the same, even in a lady’s dress! My dad once told me, these people with names with a rhyming scheme are always problematic. Those thinking about one Miguna Miguna are not wrong in their thought I should say. I never saw the essence of my dad’s words but now I see.
I love Moi University, but it isn’t a school without students. That’s why I think the old books in Margaret Thatcher should be replaced with portraits of guys like Mr President. Guys who will be remembered more for not doing what they should have done and doing what they ought not to have done.
I have sort of developed some kind of respect for the 26th group of shopkeepers. I am still yet to understand why. I am told that they are supposed to have vacated their shops (offices) long time ago but for one reason or another are still forcing themselves to serve us. I really like this bunch of guys, they make life in Moi High School easy to cope with despite all the challenges presented to us. I think this is because the group comprises of some very unique fellows, guys who choose to work from their shops while ‘serving’ us instead of the offices they are given. Some have even chosen to use technology (phones) to serve us.
I once visited a director who resides in hostel E only to be told by her room-mate that she doesn't operate manually like she used to. That I should call her on the phone she bought with the money she earned after being elected as a director. Trust me, she didn't own a phone before she landed the opportunity to sit in ‘her’ shop at the Students’ Centre and listen to our problems while providing solutions at the same time.
These guys are special due to the fact that the school they are in also has its own uniqueness. This is the only university in Kenya where life begins from speculations which later become true. Honestly speaking, I have never heard of a plan that goes through without changes in this University with differences from its ‘sister’ school, Moi High School. Last semester I had oriented my mind to study till I am through with my third year before that plan was rudely interrupted by the school when they had to send us home to pave way for another group to come and enjoy staying in this very wonderful school.
I thus went home a very de-psyched guy. I had to look for an alternative way to spend and thus went to look for internship which was not a very easy task having in mind that I am a media student. Before I could even start working, the university decided that it was time we came back and worse still, they never communicated officially, I only received a text, 'tunarudi shule 15th!' Or maybe they communicated but I didn't see it.
This is why it has some of the most ‘respected’ student’s leaders, guys who choose to involve themselves much in matters affecting the University of Nairobi other than Moi University, I guess their ego can’t allow them to associate with this school in the forest. I think before the guys assume their roles as our shopkeepers they should first vow to love and protect this university at all costs even when it has some of the oldest facilities in Kenya. I also think we do not need to vote in future, they should just be interviewed with questions like, have you ever operated a business or if you are given the opportunity of being a director, which shop do would you choose.
There is this one guy whose name I find so unique, it resembles something like the end month of the year. At first I thought he was the boss of all the shops only to be disappointed by being told that he is a minor director. This is the only guy who can scream on Facebook till all his friends block him, including his first year girlfriend who doesn't even know the meaning of a social site. He seems to serve students more on Facebook than while in school. I am told he even has an office on Facebook. I am yet to confirm that. He is the only guy who can wear anything and still look the same, even in a lady’s dress! My dad once told me, these people with names with a rhyming scheme are always problematic. Those thinking about one Miguna Miguna are not wrong in their thought I should say. I never saw the essence of my dad’s words but now I see.
I love Moi University, but it isn’t a school without students. That’s why I think the old books in Margaret Thatcher should be replaced with portraits of guys like Mr President. Guys who will be remembered more for not doing what they should have done and doing what they ought not to have done.
“DEGREE NI HARAMBEE”: SOMEONE HAS BEEN WATCHING
By William Dekker
For an old guard in the system, talking about exam cheating doesn’t tickle a single bit. Surprisingly the moment you join an institution of higher learning you find the tricks have changed or rather improved. That’s why it would sound stale to comment on the colossal exam cheating in Kenyan campuses.
“Degree ni Harambee”, this is the trending motto that works miracles for unprepared students as they take their examinations. The current age has been so polluted that very few, if not none, would hesitate to employ a backdoor mechanism "to achieve excellence.” Consequently, credibility of a degree today is questionable.
One Professor M.S. Mukras has braved the situation and gone miles to publish a book over the same. In his book, "Examination Cheating and Credibility of University Degrees," he attempts to slay the dragons of sexually transmitted grades (STG), ethnically transmitted grades (ETG), smuggling of Mwakenya into examination rooms, plagiarism and freelance assignment/thesis project helpers for their roles in providing fertilizer to the ‘evil crop’ of university exam cheats. For a moment I can say the book reveals a lot that I didn’t know before. Maybe this also equips me with new mechanisms on how it is done, so much so that I am tempted to try them…oops!
Despite the concise and well-articulated issues in the book, it is bound to rub some university authorities the wrong way. Why? Some lecturers thought the subject, at least aspects of the book, were taboo. Prof. Mukras says the bold move and ‘double-edged sword’ perceptions has had some lecturers whom he respects very much give the product a cold reception.
But when it comes to the recommendations given by the book to further curb this, it’s another pinch of pain for those “of us” who can’t do without cheating. Okay, the word cheating is a little thorny. Let me rephrase; for those of us who require a little generosity/help to make it through the academic realm. The stiff exam rules, regulations and penalties for offenders and moral decontamination of university examination processes might be too much for a weaker soul.
Whereas many undergraduates have offered their thumbs-up for a great work of art and intellectual mining, some post-graduate students fear the author may have done too much skulduggery by unmasking those hell-bent on chasing after ‘freelance project helpers’! Though the book is an indictment of all those who left what initially appeared to be a benign tumour to acquire cancerous forms, it opens a whole world of opportunity to address the problem of cheating comprehensively, as well as exposing an exciting topic for future research. Reading the book and allowing debate on its contents would, ultimately, restore the confidence of parents, financiers and employers in university education. No wonder many universities are demanding to have the title in their libraries, irrespective of the heat it generates.
There you are! I just hope the Ministry of Education doesn’t come across this piece of literature because the moment it does, many tyrannies are going to crumble. Let it stretch its long arm when I am done with my graduation. That’s my solemn prayer. I call it “Peeling Back the Mask – Varsity Version”. What a revelation!
Original review done by Obote Akoko (The Standard Newspaper)
For an old guard in the system, talking about exam cheating doesn’t tickle a single bit. Surprisingly the moment you join an institution of higher learning you find the tricks have changed or rather improved. That’s why it would sound stale to comment on the colossal exam cheating in Kenyan campuses.
“Degree ni Harambee”, this is the trending motto that works miracles for unprepared students as they take their examinations. The current age has been so polluted that very few, if not none, would hesitate to employ a backdoor mechanism "to achieve excellence.” Consequently, credibility of a degree today is questionable.
One Professor M.S. Mukras has braved the situation and gone miles to publish a book over the same. In his book, "Examination Cheating and Credibility of University Degrees," he attempts to slay the dragons of sexually transmitted grades (STG), ethnically transmitted grades (ETG), smuggling of Mwakenya into examination rooms, plagiarism and freelance assignment/thesis project helpers for their roles in providing fertilizer to the ‘evil crop’ of university exam cheats. For a moment I can say the book reveals a lot that I didn’t know before. Maybe this also equips me with new mechanisms on how it is done, so much so that I am tempted to try them…oops!
Despite the concise and well-articulated issues in the book, it is bound to rub some university authorities the wrong way. Why? Some lecturers thought the subject, at least aspects of the book, were taboo. Prof. Mukras says the bold move and ‘double-edged sword’ perceptions has had some lecturers whom he respects very much give the product a cold reception.
But when it comes to the recommendations given by the book to further curb this, it’s another pinch of pain for those “of us” who can’t do without cheating. Okay, the word cheating is a little thorny. Let me rephrase; for those of us who require a little generosity/help to make it through the academic realm. The stiff exam rules, regulations and penalties for offenders and moral decontamination of university examination processes might be too much for a weaker soul.
Whereas many undergraduates have offered their thumbs-up for a great work of art and intellectual mining, some post-graduate students fear the author may have done too much skulduggery by unmasking those hell-bent on chasing after ‘freelance project helpers’! Though the book is an indictment of all those who left what initially appeared to be a benign tumour to acquire cancerous forms, it opens a whole world of opportunity to address the problem of cheating comprehensively, as well as exposing an exciting topic for future research. Reading the book and allowing debate on its contents would, ultimately, restore the confidence of parents, financiers and employers in university education. No wonder many universities are demanding to have the title in their libraries, irrespective of the heat it generates.
There you are! I just hope the Ministry of Education doesn’t come across this piece of literature because the moment it does, many tyrannies are going to crumble. Let it stretch its long arm when I am done with my graduation. That’s my solemn prayer. I call it “Peeling Back the Mask – Varsity Version”. What a revelation!
Original review done by Obote Akoko (The Standard Newspaper)
MY SWEET GOLD DIGGER
By Kinyua Njeri
PHILOS I love you yes,
But you make my pockets,
Always empty for,
Your sweet lies,
I love the way you lie,
But I hate your lies.
You're like my school,
Which told me it's the largest,
And owns a swimming pool even,
Thus made me buy lots of costumes,
And pay my fees,
In advance,
Only to get astonished,
As I went for further notice,
After sitting on the lecture floors,
In a university!
My lovely Philos, though I love you,
I fear the damage of,
Your beauty to,
My finance,
And time and resources
And my emotions too,
Can't you understand that I,
Got no job at home?
They said I've got no scripts,
To prove my Comradeship.
Philos my love,
Why don't you understand,
That I couldn't call you,
My phone was snatched,
In Uhuru Park during,
A political meeting ?
Philos my love,
Please understand that,
If HELB doesn't avail on time,
I'll survive on the thinness of a thread...
I love you Philos,
But I am succumbing to,
The sweet voice,
And eloquence of,
Your lies.
And just like Safaricom,
That beautiful lady who speaks nicely,
While intelligently snatching,
Away my money,
And when heartbreaking me.
You two have got,
Some things in common,
Both of you lie so sweetly,
I hate you,
Yet I can't leave you,
Simply because, you are,
My Sweet Gold Diggers!
PHILOS I love you yes,
But you make my pockets,
Always empty for,
Your sweet lies,
I love the way you lie,
But I hate your lies.
You're like my school,
Which told me it's the largest,
And owns a swimming pool even,
Thus made me buy lots of costumes,
And pay my fees,
In advance,
Only to get astonished,
As I went for further notice,
After sitting on the lecture floors,
In a university!
My lovely Philos, though I love you,
I fear the damage of,
Your beauty to,
My finance,
And time and resources
And my emotions too,
Can't you understand that I,
Got no job at home?
They said I've got no scripts,
To prove my Comradeship.
Philos my love,
Why don't you understand,
That I couldn't call you,
My phone was snatched,
In Uhuru Park during,
A political meeting ?
Philos my love,
Please understand that,
If HELB doesn't avail on time,
I'll survive on the thinness of a thread...
I love you Philos,
But I am succumbing to,
The sweet voice,
And eloquence of,
Your lies.
And just like Safaricom,
That beautiful lady who speaks nicely,
While intelligently snatching,
Away my money,
And when heartbreaking me.
You two have got,
Some things in common,
Both of you lie so sweetly,
I hate you,
Yet I can't leave you,
Simply because, you are,
My Sweet Gold Diggers!
A DARK NIGHT IN HOSTEL J
By Stanley Kimuge
Sunday night. 9.00 pm to be precise. My phone rang, as a reminder from a friend in hostel J. She had invited me for supper on several occasions but I had turned down the offers in the pretext of being busy.
After a hot debate in my mind on whether to go or not, I decided to walk to the Soweto hostel. I took the shortcut. By the time I reached the Chips Cafe, my shoes had gained sizeable chunks of mud. ‘Gosh! Will this route ever get tarmac?’ I thought to myself.
At long last, I stood at the door of the room on the third floor of Hostel J. It took four knocks for the door to be ajar. I entered. A hug that extended for about two minutes followed. Her room-mate was there too; drowned in the desktop. She must have been rushing through her assignment to be handed in the following morning. I gave her a handshake. That was more than enough.
I sat on the stiff mattress that covered the ‘family-sized’ bed. A few inches away, a sufuria was emanating geysers furiously. Tiny pieces of meat were competing inside the metallic pot on which would jump highest.
Suddenly, there was darkness. The desktop lost its light. Then the coil gradually lost the glow. The room went dead silent, for at least three minutes. An infuriated voice could be heard cursing ‘watu wa power’. Probably an unsaved assignment to be presented the following day had vanished with the power.
It was then story time. The conversation could barely eat into the darkness. To supplement it, I found myself logging onto social media. Sooner than later, my phone battery was complaining that it was hungry for power.
Then came an unusual rhythm from the neighbour’s room. A bed was groaning and shaking at an alarming rate. It was accompanied by hushed voices. Initially, I thought there was an earthquake weighing 4.5 on the Richter scale. Maybe in the next nine months, a laptop would be in the offing. In another scenario, the lucky missile could be shot down by a pill the following day.
Quickly, I scrolled through my phone book. Before I came to Ogega's contacts, the battery was dead. There we were, buried in the rubbles of darkness. She had to serve the half-cooked meal. I hoped that the following day wouldn’t be spent at the dispensary.
Sunday night. 9.00 pm to be precise. My phone rang, as a reminder from a friend in hostel J. She had invited me for supper on several occasions but I had turned down the offers in the pretext of being busy.
After a hot debate in my mind on whether to go or not, I decided to walk to the Soweto hostel. I took the shortcut. By the time I reached the Chips Cafe, my shoes had gained sizeable chunks of mud. ‘Gosh! Will this route ever get tarmac?’ I thought to myself.
At long last, I stood at the door of the room on the third floor of Hostel J. It took four knocks for the door to be ajar. I entered. A hug that extended for about two minutes followed. Her room-mate was there too; drowned in the desktop. She must have been rushing through her assignment to be handed in the following morning. I gave her a handshake. That was more than enough.
I sat on the stiff mattress that covered the ‘family-sized’ bed. A few inches away, a sufuria was emanating geysers furiously. Tiny pieces of meat were competing inside the metallic pot on which would jump highest.
Suddenly, there was darkness. The desktop lost its light. Then the coil gradually lost the glow. The room went dead silent, for at least three minutes. An infuriated voice could be heard cursing ‘watu wa power’. Probably an unsaved assignment to be presented the following day had vanished with the power.
It was then story time. The conversation could barely eat into the darkness. To supplement it, I found myself logging onto social media. Sooner than later, my phone battery was complaining that it was hungry for power.
Then came an unusual rhythm from the neighbour’s room. A bed was groaning and shaking at an alarming rate. It was accompanied by hushed voices. Initially, I thought there was an earthquake weighing 4.5 on the Richter scale. Maybe in the next nine months, a laptop would be in the offing. In another scenario, the lucky missile could be shot down by a pill the following day.
Quickly, I scrolled through my phone book. Before I came to Ogega's contacts, the battery was dead. There we were, buried in the rubbles of darkness. She had to serve the half-cooked meal. I hoped that the following day wouldn’t be spent at the dispensary.
Monday, May 13, 2013
UHURU ADMINISTRATION: A NIGHTMARE TO CIVIL SOCIETY GROUPS
By Isaac Meso
When President Uhuru and his deputy William Ruto were reading out the much-awaited list of cabinet secretaries, the anticipation that gripped the nation on that particular day reminded me of the former government when its little secrets could easily trickle into the hands of the media. Apparently, for the first time no media house had a scoop of ‘who was to be given what’ and all their frantic efforts boiled down to mere speculation as they too had to wait for the Commander-in-Chief and his deputy to read the final list of cabinet secretaries.
This was just a forewarning of how picking little secrets from the new government’s Pandora’s box would be a daunting task for the media in the future if this status quo is to be maintained. However that’s a story for another day.
Last week something happened in parliament that made me have a second thought on whether the civil society is going to make it through Uhuru’s administration.
After dangling a carrot in front of the opposition for a few days the Jubilee team, charged with tyranny of numbers in the house, made an ambitious move to take control of two key watchdog committees in the National assembly.
Impact of this move
Whatever Jubilee’s side did is very legal under the parliamentary rules now that they control the majority number in the house. However the implication of this is that the Uhuru administration can get away with any mega government scandal such as the famous Goldenberg scandal without much fuss and debate in the house.
This leaves parliament’s opposition wing, if there exist any, toothless and disoriented. It’s like snatching a bone from a puppy, the only thing it can do is groan and walk away. With parliament harmless and the media facing a rather hostile ground to operate on when it comes to keeping the government in check, all the attention shifts to the one and only messiah: the civil society.
However with what has been happening between the civil society and the ICC case, early signs indicate that the civil society should just go for what they asked for; a knife fight with Uhuru’s administration. The recent public utterances by state officials questioning donor funding of non-government organizations should send chills down the civil society groups. This might just be the tip of the ice berg of a mega plan to bring to an end this watchdog.
Another fight facing the civil society is their stand on the ICC cases. Apparently the owners of the land have a bone to pick with the civil society group who played quite a vital role in their prosecution at the International Criminal Court over the post poll violence that rocked the nation at the beginning of 2008.
While Chief Justice Mutunga and his crew work on their next move after one of his own filed an injunction to stop to the prosecution of Kamlesh Pattni over the Goldenberg scandal, Kenyans can only count on the civil society to save them from such levels of impunity that are still existent in our country, a new constitution notwithstanding. If the Uhuru administration succeeds in muffling the civil society, then Kenya will be no different from what it was during Moi’s era.
When President Uhuru and his deputy William Ruto were reading out the much-awaited list of cabinet secretaries, the anticipation that gripped the nation on that particular day reminded me of the former government when its little secrets could easily trickle into the hands of the media. Apparently, for the first time no media house had a scoop of ‘who was to be given what’ and all their frantic efforts boiled down to mere speculation as they too had to wait for the Commander-in-Chief and his deputy to read the final list of cabinet secretaries.
This was just a forewarning of how picking little secrets from the new government’s Pandora’s box would be a daunting task for the media in the future if this status quo is to be maintained. However that’s a story for another day.
Last week something happened in parliament that made me have a second thought on whether the civil society is going to make it through Uhuru’s administration.
After dangling a carrot in front of the opposition for a few days the Jubilee team, charged with tyranny of numbers in the house, made an ambitious move to take control of two key watchdog committees in the National assembly.
Impact of this move
Whatever Jubilee’s side did is very legal under the parliamentary rules now that they control the majority number in the house. However the implication of this is that the Uhuru administration can get away with any mega government scandal such as the famous Goldenberg scandal without much fuss and debate in the house.
This leaves parliament’s opposition wing, if there exist any, toothless and disoriented. It’s like snatching a bone from a puppy, the only thing it can do is groan and walk away. With parliament harmless and the media facing a rather hostile ground to operate on when it comes to keeping the government in check, all the attention shifts to the one and only messiah: the civil society.
However with what has been happening between the civil society and the ICC case, early signs indicate that the civil society should just go for what they asked for; a knife fight with Uhuru’s administration. The recent public utterances by state officials questioning donor funding of non-government organizations should send chills down the civil society groups. This might just be the tip of the ice berg of a mega plan to bring to an end this watchdog.
Another fight facing the civil society is their stand on the ICC cases. Apparently the owners of the land have a bone to pick with the civil society group who played quite a vital role in their prosecution at the International Criminal Court over the post poll violence that rocked the nation at the beginning of 2008.
While Chief Justice Mutunga and his crew work on their next move after one of his own filed an injunction to stop to the prosecution of Kamlesh Pattni over the Goldenberg scandal, Kenyans can only count on the civil society to save them from such levels of impunity that are still existent in our country, a new constitution notwithstanding. If the Uhuru administration succeeds in muffling the civil society, then Kenya will be no different from what it was during Moi’s era.
CELEBRATING THE LIFE OF THE LATE GEOFFREY KIBET KIRUI
Born in Kebeneti Location, Sigoweti Division in Kericho County, the late Geoffrey Kirui was a student of Moi University – Main Campus. He was a fourth year student pursuing a Bachelor of Arts (Kiswahili) in the School of Arts and Social Sciences. He was also he was a member of Kericho Moi University Students Association (KEMUSA) where he served as the fourth year representative.
Geoffrey passed on after the unfortunate incident on Saturday at Chepkiit Falls where he drowned. He will be laid to rest on Friday 17th May 2013 at his home in Chang’ware Village in Kericho County.
The 3rd Eye once again apologizes to KEMUSA for the initial report that colleagues fled the scene upon the incident. The members could not arrive on time at the scene due to the terrain and poor weather. The body was found two kilometres away from the scene of the accident. We highly regret the inconveniences and harm caused.
Geoffrey passed on after the unfortunate incident on Saturday at Chepkiit Falls where he drowned. He will be laid to rest on Friday 17th May 2013 at his home in Chang’ware Village in Kericho County.
The 3rd Eye once again apologizes to KEMUSA for the initial report that colleagues fled the scene upon the incident. The members could not arrive on time at the scene due to the terrain and poor weather. The body was found two kilometres away from the scene of the accident. We highly regret the inconveniences and harm caused.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
THIEF ARRESTED AS INVESTIGATIONS KICK OFF
By Mohammed Doyo
A suspected thief escaped death on Saturday afternoon after students caught him stealing in Hostel J. Comrades attempted to lynch him only for the University’s security men to rescue him.
The suspect, 27 year old Bernard Maluha, had broken in a room in hostel J and was in the process of stealing when the room occupant ambushed him forcing him to flee. Beryl Onyango, the room occupant screamed prompting students to intervene. Students apprehended the suspect while trying to escape.The suspect, also an Eldoret town resident was later interrogated for over 2 hours at the University’s security office.
Organized Crime
The suspect confessed he was part of a larger network comprising of students and non students who steal laptops in the university and sell them at cheap prices in Eldoret Town. He says a group of over 10 individuals in the university, with a well coordinated network carry out the stealing and hand in the stolen gadgets to a group leader based in Main campus (Name withheld) who in turn ferry the items to town.
In town, He adds, the electronic gadgets are sold to a group of 5 people who pose as electronic technicians and dealers.
The suspect has since been arrested by the Kesses Police officers where he is undergoing further interrogation. By the time of going to press, a security committee composed of students, Muso Security Director, campus Media and University security officers had been formed to investigate the case in cooperation with the police.
This is the latest of such case. In the past few weeks, rampant theft of laptops has hit Main Campus with at least 10 cases being reported daily at the Security office.
A suspected thief escaped death on Saturday afternoon after students caught him stealing in Hostel J. Comrades attempted to lynch him only for the University’s security men to rescue him.
The suspect, 27 year old Bernard Maluha, had broken in a room in hostel J and was in the process of stealing when the room occupant ambushed him forcing him to flee. Beryl Onyango, the room occupant screamed prompting students to intervene. Students apprehended the suspect while trying to escape.The suspect, also an Eldoret town resident was later interrogated for over 2 hours at the University’s security office.
Organized Crime
The suspect confessed he was part of a larger network comprising of students and non students who steal laptops in the university and sell them at cheap prices in Eldoret Town. He says a group of over 10 individuals in the university, with a well coordinated network carry out the stealing and hand in the stolen gadgets to a group leader based in Main campus (Name withheld) who in turn ferry the items to town.
In town, He adds, the electronic gadgets are sold to a group of 5 people who pose as electronic technicians and dealers.
The suspect has since been arrested by the Kesses Police officers where he is undergoing further interrogation. By the time of going to press, a security committee composed of students, Muso Security Director, campus Media and University security officers had been formed to investigate the case in cooperation with the police.
This is the latest of such case. In the past few weeks, rampant theft of laptops has hit Main Campus with at least 10 cases being reported daily at the Security office.
VEECAM RESIDENTS MOVED TO COMFORT
By Kinyua Njeri
About 70 male students residing in Veecam Hostel were moved to Comfort Hostel (Block G) yesterday following a prolonged power problem. The power fault was caused by overloading and sparking at the main switches and meter box.
The Kenya Power is said to have insisted that a three-phase power system be installed to prevent such faults in future. However, that would take time to fix, prompting the relocation of the residents.
The Veecam residents now join ladies at what has been a ladies' hostel. On the other hand, the ladies who lived in Block G have been relocated to other blocks within the hostel to create room for their male counterparts.
In the past fortnight, persistent blackouts in the hostels have inconvenienced students in the varsity.
About 70 male students residing in Veecam Hostel were moved to Comfort Hostel (Block G) yesterday following a prolonged power problem. The power fault was caused by overloading and sparking at the main switches and meter box.
The Kenya Power is said to have insisted that a three-phase power system be installed to prevent such faults in future. However, that would take time to fix, prompting the relocation of the residents.
The Veecam residents now join ladies at what has been a ladies' hostel. On the other hand, the ladies who lived in Block G have been relocated to other blocks within the hostel to create room for their male counterparts.
In the past fortnight, persistent blackouts in the hostels have inconvenienced students in the varsity.
HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED
By Christine Muhia
I woke up to the sounds of “Mwizi, mwizi….uuuiii!” Partially scared, I shot out of bed, grabbed my 'kanga' and my faithful hockey stick in case self-defence was necessary. I was determined to aid my fellow comrade and be the day’s heroine. But woe unto me, my brevity was put to shame when I came to the realization that I was the only intended heroine. Most of my fellow house-mates chose to stick to the confines of their rooms and peep through the keyholes as drama unfolded.
I followed the scream to the opposite wing and teamed up with Nyambura and Njeri as they were from the region bestowed with ladies who face problems with a good fight, literally. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the supposed floor from where all the chaos was emanating from, the culprit was long gone. He had fled towards the students’ centre. Apparently, the thought of him being beaten to a pulp by Nyamburas and Njeris and being apprehended had crossed his mind and he opted to flee and save his life.
By this time everyone in J was up and asking what had happened. “Mimi nilitaka kutoka tumpate tumchape,” one student retorted echoing many others.I just gave a smirk wondering where the backup was when Nyambura, Njeri and I needed it most. Security arrived a little too late for the action but investigations are ongoing. After an amateur personal investigation, it came to my understanding that the culprit did not get away with anything.
However, he is still at large and lucky to have got away before facing our wrath. Well, actually my wrath mainly. This goes out as a warning to those kleptomaniacs out there who think they can just walk into our rooms and get away with our valuables.
Mark my words, next time you decide to go on your little so-called adventure, BEWARE!!! We will have no more sleepless nights because of you. If we catch you, well, just be sure you will face the full wrath of an injured lioness. Trust me, we are so angry right now.
I woke up to the sounds of “Mwizi, mwizi….uuuiii!” Partially scared, I shot out of bed, grabbed my 'kanga' and my faithful hockey stick in case self-defence was necessary. I was determined to aid my fellow comrade and be the day’s heroine. But woe unto me, my brevity was put to shame when I came to the realization that I was the only intended heroine. Most of my fellow house-mates chose to stick to the confines of their rooms and peep through the keyholes as drama unfolded.
I followed the scream to the opposite wing and teamed up with Nyambura and Njeri as they were from the region bestowed with ladies who face problems with a good fight, literally. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the supposed floor from where all the chaos was emanating from, the culprit was long gone. He had fled towards the students’ centre. Apparently, the thought of him being beaten to a pulp by Nyamburas and Njeris and being apprehended had crossed his mind and he opted to flee and save his life.
By this time everyone in J was up and asking what had happened. “Mimi nilitaka kutoka tumpate tumchape,” one student retorted echoing many others.I just gave a smirk wondering where the backup was when Nyambura, Njeri and I needed it most. Security arrived a little too late for the action but investigations are ongoing. After an amateur personal investigation, it came to my understanding that the culprit did not get away with anything.
However, he is still at large and lucky to have got away before facing our wrath. Well, actually my wrath mainly. This goes out as a warning to those kleptomaniacs out there who think they can just walk into our rooms and get away with our valuables.
Mark my words, next time you decide to go on your little so-called adventure, BEWARE!!! We will have no more sleepless nights because of you. If we catch you, well, just be sure you will face the full wrath of an injured lioness. Trust me, we are so angry right now.
'WE RECOVERED THE BODY,' SAY KEMUSA OFFICIALS
A group of students who were reported to have fled the scene of the accident at Chepkiit falls (Mlango Falls) yesterday where a fellow student drowned to death have refuted the claims, adding that they were part of the rescue team.
The deceased student who has been identified as Geofrey Kibet Kirui (Department of Kiswahili and Other African Languages) and a fourth year in the School of Arts and Social Sciences in Moi University – Main Campus, slipped into the water. He clung to a rock for some time in an effort to stay afloat before he gave in. Speaking to the 3rd Eye this morning, Kericho University Students Association (KEMUSA) officials stated that there was miscommunication over the incident.
The association members had visited the site for a picnic. Efforts to rescue him from fast flowing river were futile. His body was swept away by the water and was found floating two kilometres away from the drowning point, with fatal head injuries.
The group called upon the Red Cross team which helped retrieve the body from the river.
The deceased student who has been identified as Geofrey Kibet Kirui (Department of Kiswahili and Other African Languages) and a fourth year in the School of Arts and Social Sciences in Moi University – Main Campus, slipped into the water. He clung to a rock for some time in an effort to stay afloat before he gave in. Speaking to the 3rd Eye this morning, Kericho University Students Association (KEMUSA) officials stated that there was miscommunication over the incident.
The association members had visited the site for a picnic. Efforts to rescue him from fast flowing river were futile. His body was swept away by the water and was found floating two kilometres away from the drowning point, with fatal head injuries.
The group called upon the Red Cross team which helped retrieve the body from the river.
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