Campus Vibez


It’s not that I’m a stone hearted wannabe Hitler with zero desire to see other humans happy, but, for this particular reason, someone should burn Campus marriages.

On Sunday last week, like every other Sunday, I left my Campus bedsitter at noon for a friends bedsitter. In this scenario let’s call him Judas. Because a bloody betrayer is what he became.

Now Judas is that kind of dude your mother brags to her Chama friends that you are. He’s that son your father, a seasoned saddist would actually like. In Campus, he’s that guy who always seem to have his shit together when all you are is the shit itself. His house is ever neat. And he always have enough money to entertain unsolicited guests like myself.

Which is what I was on this Sunday of our tragic story.

I was broke. Real broke. As broke as I am now ( yeah, nothing has changed). So I did what my ancestors would have done, emigrated to fertile lands in search of pasture. Pasture that was something more than salt and pepper I had in my house. Son of soil wasn’t in his bedsitter when I got there. But me is who? I’d convinced the ninja to give me his spare key for safe keeping long ago. So I had no difficulty welcoming myself in.

He hadn’t locked himself in, of course. But he’d locked fresh omena in, and lots of other foodstuff. I got busy. There was no dirty socks packed aimlessly around the house or a bunch of dirty clothes piled up on the bed and this was normal.

Except one thing.

There was a new fragnance. Feminine fragnance. A red flag that I ignored. Soon my omena was ready, escorted by huge mountain of ugali and skuma to taste. Just the way my ancestors would have liked it. No sooner had I sat to eat than my host arrived. And he had company, so very much unlike him. This company was some lightskinned Kamba girl, lets call her Jezebel, with bad teeth and the most annoying voice after Motorola ringtone.

When Judas introduced Jezebel as “dem wake” who had moved in with him a week ago, I was shook! How could he do that without consulting me first? Bloody betrayer!

With Judas permission, Jezebel went ahead to tell me that I was nolonger welcomed in ‘their’ house. Ati now they needed some privacy blah blah chieth! And then she took even took picture of me to remind her to kick me out again if I dared come back.

Ata wataachana tu.

By: Tonny Ogwa

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