Seven years ago, a day like this, at exactly 5.20 p.m something terrible happened that still hurts me to date.
On that beautiful, I was broke. It was that time in campus, when you eat a Kangumu in the morning with lukewarm strong tea that has an idea of sugar.
Such days usually are the ones you have three classes back to back.
I had finished my last class and was malingering around University of Nairobi’s campus wondering how I was going to atgack sukuma wiki like a rabbit later.
Back then the University of Nairobi had so many parallel students that we loathed. They would come in the evening all well dressed, cluster around the Chancelor’s Court, doing small talk waiting for their 5.30 class.
We used to despise them. Mostly, because they had money. We didn’t.
Now, before that monsters UoN Towers was built, there used to be a small, well maintained lawn which we used to call Jevangee. Some enterprising outsider caterer ( should have been Arziki) used to sell tea and snacks out there that was a preserve of Parallel students.
I ran into my wonderful sister and she looked at my lips and offered to buy me some tea and a samosa, lest I die.
The first sip of the tea was marvelous. Then I lovely and sparingly bit the samosa. I was about to devour it as we did small talk with my siz.
Then I noticed my samosa anymore. Just like that. A hawk had snatched it from me in such stealth fashion I didn’t it coming or going. I only saw it after it was up in the sky mocking me.
It may sound frivolous, but I was inconsolable.
I know what it feels like when what you think is yours is taken.
I totally feel Jubilee.
I do.
Wacha nitafutane na samosa.
