Karibuni Parklands

In the medieval epoch of the English empire rule, when the crusaders and knight templars dictated what sin was, it was a transgression for just anyone to know how to read and write. It was a sin to be literate. All a man needed to know was how to swing his sword and escape the blade of his adversary. And all a woman cared to know was when her husband would be back in the evening- so that she would serve him with food first then herself later. Literacy was left to the monks alone in the monastery. Maybe it was a consolation price for the denial of the simple joys of that came with the wisdom granted by fruits of the tree of knowledge. And it’s funny how it was second to nature the way they called themselves learned and wise, when they were completely ignorant of the first knowledge that only them could read from the first chapters of the Holy Book. The paradox of life, huh?

Well anyways, since then till now, reading has always been a fundamental requirement for the sustainability of knowledge…and common sense. Knowledge, indeed is power. And after so many centuries all has changed is who should read and what. Now even babies can read. Of course I don’t mean children from Nyakemincha.

Back in the day when all I cared about was why Samurai X has never found his way back home or why nobody ever sued Fred Quimby for animal brutality; I never quite understood why I had to go to school. I tried all the tricks in the book until my bag of tricks was finally well spent; and my old man’s unflinching resilience to have me wake up everyday at six am to prepare for school was the source of all my aching tooth, conveniently missing uniform, running stomach, torn shoes, unsettled school fees, and when there was nothing else left to miss, then I am the one who got lost.

But then we grow up, and as much as we don’t really like school, it is the only rite of passage that we all have to go through. And now, in hindsight, it feels like it was an hour ago that my old man spread my eight year old self on his wife’s lap and gave me a thrashing when I finally showed up from one of my disappearing acts. I remember asking myself what kind of a self respecting father spanks the living lights out of his own child just because of a juvenile matter like school? His own flesh and blood! Grow up man! In fact, I even began contemplating moving out. I didn’t know where exactly, but surely there had to be somewhere I had the liberty to play bano and watch Cartoon Network the whole day without having someone setting my ass on fire simply because he owned bigger trousers than I. I was better of in a children’s home!

Fast-forward eleven years later, I finally moved out. To campus. And its incredible because, this time the person who was in tears because I was going to school was the same one who once flogged me for skiving school for home.

Two years have passed since then. It is amazing what 720 days could do. And after all this time, I still believe in that same code that I developed as a fresher. That some people came to Parklands, Parklands happened to them and they changed. But i came to Parklands, I happened to Parklands….and Parklands changed. Because contrary to what we might have been sorely mistaken to believe, joining campus does not transform who we are. It only brings out the person that we have always been. After a whole lifetime of being marooned under the dominion of your folks, you are finally given the card of freedom and left to be on your own. And at that time, the person that your life’s experiences made you to be is put to the test. As expected, some crumble and fall. Others just manage to get by. While the rest make it big. And that’s it. That is the truth. That is the reality of any campus in the present day 254.

So the other day I was handed a microphone to talk to first years about the realities of Parklands Campus. And since the dean of students was in attendance, I stayed my tongue and edited my speech. I did what they expected me to do and spoke from a scripted perspective of a student leader fishing for next elections’ votes. And so I stood in front of an audience of fresherz in a suit and fed them some cow and chicken story about Parklands Campus being the best school and all that jazz. I did not lie. No. I am simply remarking upon the paradox of having to repeat the same things that they had been told in the student information handbook.

This is what I should have told them….

“I am actually glad that you had the audacity to sign up for the school of law- otherwise referred to as the Parklands School of Luo. And I am grateful for having been given this opportunity to talk to you about this school so that I could instruct you on some housekeeping issues.

The doors of this school were officially opened in 1971 and the facilities we have around here have never been replaced ever since. I doubt the library basement has ever been wiped since then too. You see the signpost at the gate that says the University of Nairobi is a corruption free zone? That’s a whole load of old bollocks. That was just put up as a matter of formality so that this institution could be ISO Certified. The truth is that you just signed up to study in a beautiful university in which ugly souls push the buttons. And it’s a shame that 30 pieces of silver have been used to take the place of honor.

The Vice Chancellor once said that UoN is so rich that it could list in the stock exchange; but try asking the school for funding to attend a Moot Competition in Europe. Or better still, look around you and see how old our toilet seats are, or the mismatched floor tiles. Do not be blinded by the edible food they cooked you on Monday when you came. That was just to win your loyalty because they do not want you buying food from the rival Cafeteria or Poolside cafe. We were also welcomed in the same way, but somewhere along the way they kind of made rules and preparing good food became the weakness of the fools. See when they want a bitch they got a bitch. But that’s just with the food. Soon, the ladies will come to learn about STMs and its place in our society. Soon the dudes will just have to understand that the only way the have to compete is to be of fair words and false promises.

The line of demarcation between politics and romance in this school is very thin. And many of you will start flirting with it. Its all about interest. Love is overrated. And guys, I know you now think you are rich enough to beat UK from his current rating in Forbes simply because you received HELB(P). Twenty six thousand shillings might seem like a lot of cash, and the feeling is exhilarating. In high school I know five hundred shillings could suffice till the end of the term…I speak for the boys, I do not know about the girls. But I do know it was not 26k. It’s all good until that time when you start noticing that the girl who sits next to you has pretty nails or feet. It’s okay to feel so much in love, but as a matter of principle, never give out your ATM pin to a female. Oh boy! That is when the party will begin to lose form. Today you will be so much in love, and tomorrow you will be so much in debt!

Kshs. 3, 600 ONLY!!!

Word of advice, instead of cramming her number, how about cramming a judgement of Lord Dipcock or Lord Cockburn. Of course these two blokes will not rub your thighs and make you feel like heaven, but there is so much you can learn when you just open a book and look at it. Or if that is too much to ask, grab yourself a copy of Magunga on Essential on Campus Dating and read about the doctrine of Nemo chudex in causa sua.

Maybe, just maybe you will learn a thing or two about why you shouldn’t knock on a door to a room that is playing loud music. I am not a qualified physician, but one thing is for certain: behind that door, multivitamin jabs are being administered. And no, there is no one being slaughtered in the room next door. Those sounds of cries are just an expression of mayhem being created. In this book, you will understand that in Parklands being called a transporter has no connection whatsoever to Jason Statham. So do not flatter yourself. When you hear an annoying squeaking from above, do not reach for rat and rat. There is no rodent infestation here. And no, God is not speaking to you, so stop bothering your class dad. Simply invest in a pair of earmuffs because that bed from the room above yours is not going to be fixed anytime soon.

God exists. I however cannot be a member of any religion in campus. I have tried and failed. The cost of being considered righteous in the eyes of God is too high. Christianity demands that I hunger and thirst for righteousness sake; Islam obligates me to kill infidels for it is righteous; while Hinduism will require me to marry my cousin to keep my bloodline pure. But that’s just me. Yet i respect all religions in parky. See Jesus himself was a Jew and not a Christian and Muslims do not only believe in blowing up themselves- they also believe in a paradise. A heaven with seventy two virgins to their name. So put God first and don’t forget to always spell His name with a capital G. Choose not the three leaves of weed over the trinity. For however much pot the Devil may smoke, he will never be the Most High.

Oh, and one more thing…Whatever you do, Please, for the sake of the pride and humility that you have left after knowing what Parklands Campus is all about, do NOT play against Dedan Wachira in a game of pool. Its still too early in the semester to start being broke.

That’s Parklands Campus for you. But take caution before you coil your tail between your legs and scoot elsewhere. Where else would you go? To the kid K.U law school across the street? Please! JKUAT or USIU the home to the perpetrators of campus chics for rich men? To Strath? Don’t even get me started. Most of you do not even have any choice but to stay anyway. Parky may be messed up sometimes. Hard work may go unrewarded. And dreams may be broken and hopes shattered. But we also have our moments. And if you cannot have the resilience to stay around and take in the bad, then you will surely miss out on the good. So stand up and make a difference. Because in Parky, that is all that makes you a man or a lady.
In hoc vigno vinces– in this I though shall conquer.”