This is for those who have walked on this path before me, those who may walk after me and for those who rap about bloody shoes but don’t own them. I pay tribute to the alumni of Moi University; them that have been set apart from the rest of the generations; the ones who never got to see Canaan; them that know not how it feels to walk during the rain without slewing; they who understand the tribulations of not owning gumboots.
It may be quite the perplexity to products of warrido fam and pulled up in a car with the roof missing (pickup). But believe it or not (Riplies soundtrack) Moi University shares a name with the second president and that’s where the affiliation ends. Being so high in the list of top universities in Kenya, the retrogress we experience as a fraternity is simply traumatizing. You don’t know real struggle until you have left class for your room only for it to start raining at the administration block.
Moi University will give you enough leg work during the rainy season. It will keep your quads fresh and tighter than Beyonce and Jayz’s vacay game. Probably the only two people who can survive the menace predevelopment; nduthi za kesses ni zii.
On these roads I have lost money, phones, dignity and sight. Personally, I wasn’t built for this, i have more open than closed shoes and I walk better in heels than the average Instagram model. The losses I have suffered due to poorly constructed roads (politically incorrect, it was never constructed) is shuddering. All those with torn shoes turned into the-shop shoes, the ones with more memories falling than walking, those who have already established their own black spots (5.2) and the ones with muddy clothes long after the rainy season comment “aye”.
Let’s single out special crowds amongst us, these are the people cut above the rest and without them we wouldn’t leave the CBD. They are the real comrades of Moi University; they understand the boda guy is their Jayz. These are the people who come from far away land dressed in heaps of clothes, gloves and gumboots. They look like the nduthi guy but they are not, they are also not villagers; they are long distance travellers (wasiata).
The ones from beyond the sun always having a sweater nearby, they are good meteorologists. They know things, things to do with the clouds and the boda guy. They buy their supper early, always walking with kale popping from their shopping bags for they do not know when food shall be seen again. They are the foundation of knowledge and truth. These are our people beyond the trees and the hills; further than the eye can see. We see them when they are drunk and in need of a nearby place to sleep and when they even more drunk as they forget where they live.
My heart goes to those who studied between the years 1985 and 2017. You are the real wakandas, lupitas and Django Unmurramed. You are the reenactment of 12 years of slaves. Take it proudly and carry on like the soldiers you are brethren. The mental and physical experience this lot went through allows them to work well in the agriculture industry. They are also well equipped with skills in wading, water evasion, mud catapulting, folding of skinny jeans and drunk in mud activities. Kindly do not judge any of the above persons when seen in gumboots during the dry season; we are still in the rehabilitation phase. The PTSD from trekking in mud is intense between these years and we are grateful as the 2013 lot to have evaded it by a whisker.
30 years of unpassable roads and one man decided we deserved better; enough was his enough. We are more than a people who skid on their way to class, we can be more than those with mud on their shoes and pants, and we shall be given more than a painted admin block and redone stairs. Mr Ayabei is synonymous to Moses on more accounts than just being a leader, he has assuredly outdone himself. He did not take us to Canaan but he surely brought Canaan. He has turned Kesses into Kanes. Wayeth to goethh!
Five years in this institution I can proudly brag over walking on safe grounds and to have never owned a pair of gumboots (peril in my closet). For all the shoes that were taken from us, the moments the ground was drawn near and the houses we walked into with mud, this is a 4:44 moment. No greater time has been recorded in the history of stage ; I am proud as a comrade that I have stood the test of time, I have fought a good fight and finished the race in good rubbers. I had a dream; a dream that I will not leave this University as I found it.