Students cheat- in exams as much as in their relationships. It is like a burst of hormones in these universities. It is not our fault though, that we are like this- it is a stage in our lives that we have to live. That even you, the pensioner reading this with a smirk on your face, also went through. When hormones rage, there is really little you can do other than satiate them. And my guess is that this is not only peculiar to campus students, it is an everyday thing that happens to the best, youngest and most ancient of us.
I speak of this today following Babu Owino’s latest stunt. This time, he has armed himself with something more powerful than sticks and stones. Information; a deadly weapon that could bring kings to their knees. He says he has dirt on the leading politicians in town who have squeezes in campuses. Squeezes who, apparently have boyfriends in school. His contention with the spate of supposed illicit affairs is that the men folk in campus are crying foul over unfair competition.
When I saw that I remember cringing and thinking to myself, egads… this is portrayal of campus girls as hapless victims driven into forbidden amorous affairs, and the supposition that campus dudes are in any way offended by it is hogswallop. For one, we all know why ladies date politicians and business honchos with bellies that spill over their trousers. It is not for their sexual appeal- God no. All they do is lie down on the bed, open their legs and think of England while the relic pounds himself to a quick orgasm. It is for security. They trade in the junction of their thighs for finance as if it’s a pension scheme. In essence, it is a trade. The good old give-and-take of goods and services for money. A fair exchange; as it is in love and war. In a harsher tone, one could call it high end whoring, but let’s not get our knickers in a twist over transactions that we are not privy to.
As for the campus men, I would be tempted to say that they give a damn, but the truth is, they lose no sleep over what these girls do. I mean, what can they do? If they have tried to get them to stop painting their faces with all colours of the rainbow and failed, why would they bother with this one? In any case, there is no point teaching a grandmother how to suck eggs. If young girls feel pretty shaving their eyebrows and then drawing them back with crayons, who are we to judge? Or even care? It is their funeral if they prefer the debauched retiree who takes their vagina for a railroad, useful only to forget their pale marriages.
We accepted and moved on kitambo; we only wait for our turn to park a swanky tinted SUV outside a campus gate and be renamed ‘uncle’ sometimes in 2030. (What a vision!)
But it would be fun to see another politician outed for this. At least it would give Chapter 6 of our katiba a little relevance. In any case, the current fodder that the media has been chewing of late about National Dialogue and what not is beginning to lose taste. The Kenyans on Twitter gang is feeling a little lazy with nobody to roast. Perhaps Babu Owino would do us all a favor and just spill the beans already.
If not for integrity, he should do it for the comedy. The amusement of a man caught pants down trying to appeal to us with some faux regret, shrouded hubris, and extravagant self-flagellation of “Mistakes were made, I was in a dark place.” As if the waffling will make us understand his peccadilloes, when we all know that what he is sorry for is the fact that there is no more Monica Lewinsky on her knees giving secret service. Sorry is a sorry word- and so is Owino’s list of shame.