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Identity Thief

30 Jan
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Okay, let me make this clear, I am not a rich kid, I am not a Lavington/Runda “spoilt-brat-resident”, I most certainly do not drive some huge kahuna machine, neither do I own an island nor an airline somewhere in the Hamptons, BUT, I am in USIU so, y'all Tom-Dick-and-Hillary stop judging because of your primitive closed minded nature and your uncredited assumptions. Since I let that off my chest, we can go on now.

Being in USIU already gives you privilege enough just through your association with it. The moment you mumble those syllables everything hikes for you. Talk from Prices, sometimes respect, and people quickly conclude that you got millions in your bank account that you won't mind spending. For starters, you have no bank account and you only use the word millions to refer to the likes of bill gates, but, Oh well, that may also be true but not for all of us.

Diversity is what gives us our identity, but being in USIU could create a completely different person out of you. A lot of pressure on how to dress, how to behave, it even goes to as simple as how you do your hair. Have you ever found yourself in a state where you feel objectified esteem-wise? Well am sure at one point or another in your life, you have felt senselessly led on, desperately fooled or even worse, heedlessly jumping into a doomed affiliation.

 

Freshmen should just take a chill pill, sit at a corner and watch to learn from the big fish. These kids come to USIU with expectations too high. Literally draining money from folks to maintain a certain reputation. Yoh, it's not that serious. Just throw some random cloth on, go to class then go see mama rosy. Bet she would want to see you to *wink wink*. Mama rosy actually sees a lot. She probably sits there and serves you some nyama and chapo and you think that's all she does. She serves you some ugali and managu(traditional kales)and you stand there hating her because she put 3pistons of ugali and just a handful of managu. Then you wonder,

“Aki mama rossy, how I'm I supposed to ratio this now.”

You look at the plate of the customer in front of you and quickly return your eyes to mama rosy with that ‘aki-your-not-fair’ look.

She stares at you, feels your despair and scoops a quarter spoon of more managu and dumps it on your plate. It doesn't make much of a difference but since you don’t want to look gluttonous, you scooch ahead and pick some salad or something to compensate for the managu. At the end of the day, you think of mama rosy, then you look at your wallet, and you smile all your teeth out. You have saved some chums by eating there. And the next day you walk into mama rosy's territory like it is your kitchen.

You don't have to be someone else to fit into this environment, the more you become yourself, the fun school gets. You sit at cafe latta pretending to be some hot cake from Runda with one of this Vera Sidikas human hair. God is seeing you. He is seated up there looking down on you then probably calls angel Gabriel,

“Gabby, ebu come look at shiro, you remember how it took us a while to make that nice kinky hair of hers, ati now she wants to look like Rihanna.”  Then they laugh out loud because, honey, they love your kinky hair.

Angel Gabriel takes another look at a USIU freshman, laughs out loud pointing down at earth. He taps God on the shoulder,

“Yoh, God, you crazy! Now why did you give Njush that accent! He talks real funny!”

God hears you talk for a minute and in unison they laugh to tears because that accent is your future source of income because it automatically makes you a comedian.

But since you cannot embrace that, you ‘weng’ and sound more like a looser than you do an articulate speaker, instead, pick up a Norah Roberts or Sydney Sheldon’s book, live in that imagination and when you raise your head, you are 100% sure that there is something stuck in between those ears.

You flock around in bunches, blocking pavements and apparently to you, it is really exciting to walk into class late, you practically drink to it. When you grow up you will realize how horrible your freshman year was. Make the most out of it without trying to be someone else. Case closed.

                            

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Comments

  • Guest
    Jonyothegreat - Saturday, 30 January 2016

    Nice One!! A response will follow suit!

  • Guest
    Alexander - Sunday, 31 January 2016

    A good read. Talk of a reality check.

  • Guest
    Fridah - Monday, 01 February 2016

    Wow! Great piece siz...freshman year is a phase that blows over; many realise that too little too late.

  • Guest
    david omari - Monday, 01 February 2016

    This is some good stuff, keep it up maureen

  • Guest
    cyppy - Tuesday, 02 February 2016

    God is seeing you ,He is probably calling angel Gabriel
    Now that be my cliche 'pick up line for the week
    freshman year
    nice writing Mochama ,keep it up
    am watching you rise

  • Guest
    cyppy - Tuesday, 02 February 2016

    God is seeing you ,He is probably calling angel Gabriel
    Now that be my cliche 'pick up line for the week
    freshman year
    nice writing Mochama ,keep it up
    am watching you rise

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