The
word 'diaspora', when mentioned to Kenyans, brings a frenzy of its kind.
It rekindles memories of those fortunate enough to explore the corners
of the world. People think of their clansmen who changed their
vernacular accent on earning a flight to the other worlds. (They call it
the First World, while ours is relegated to the last position, the
Third World. Since when did we have more
than one world? And going by history, isn't our good old Gondwanaland
the 1st World, being the cradle for mankind?) Well, the name is also
given to Kenya's constituency number one!
Mind teasers aside. We in Moi know the semantic value of 'diaspora' better. We have got a better meaning that articulately fits our context. We know of the Houses, where about six Hostel J-sized rooms can be agglutinated to serve as one big family-sized room. Family? Yes, family. Or what would you call six people who live together in a room? Do not forget the stylish furniture, self-contained room with an in-built loo and a vegetable garden outside the bungalows.
Diaspora in Moi is also that place where you live in school, yet far from school. Tongue twisted? This is only possible in this university. You leave two kilometres from school, yet believe to belong together with others who live just ten strides from the lecture hall. Unfortunately, you cannot claim you're not in Moi because there's no fence in the campus to prove your argument.
Definitely, residents of this place are ever late for class. Not that they don't wake up early, far from that. They actually wake up earlier than any other person in the school thanks to the crowing of cocks and lowing of cows from neighbours, I mean
villagers.
They do this to avoid the 'Electricity Rush Hour'. That's what they call it there. You have to wake up earlier than the others so that your coil can at least hit a faint orange colour (the two phase circuit does not allow red) for you to have a meal ready. 'Rush Hour' can only be avoided by either waking up early or waiting until everyone else is asleep. During any other time, you can just test the heat of the coil by literally sitting on it!
When he gets a ‘Mbos‘ in Hostel K, many are the times he is mistaken for a worker. Who is this student who wears gumboots and parks a bicycle outside the hostel? Some actually beg assistance from him;'... haki utanitengenezea stima lini...?'
At the Students’ Centre, where he rests (not idles) after the two-kilometre walk to school, one can’t help but wonder about his soiled shoes. What else do you expect of someone who involuntary swam in mud while coming to class?
However s/he has the strongest bones, thanks to the hard water from the wells. Still, there’s no need for a gym to keep fit. The manual water-lifts serve him better, free, naturally and spontaneously. While using this water though, serious caution has to be taken to avoid ingesting filth from the confined hole. Extra soap to is needed to fight the hardness during laundry.
Those in the diaspora are always prayerful, that Pita Mashoka, that Master’s student who majors in Cranial Remoulding, dies before his graduation. He is a brute whose Fourth Year research project caused so much havoc that no one can ever wish to see his Master’s thesis.
So, next time, laugh not when you find a lady who is more muscular than you!
Mind teasers aside. We in Moi know the semantic value of 'diaspora' better. We have got a better meaning that articulately fits our context. We know of the Houses, where about six Hostel J-sized rooms can be agglutinated to serve as one big family-sized room. Family? Yes, family. Or what would you call six people who live together in a room? Do not forget the stylish furniture, self-contained room with an in-built loo and a vegetable garden outside the bungalows.
Diaspora in Moi is also that place where you live in school, yet far from school. Tongue twisted? This is only possible in this university. You leave two kilometres from school, yet believe to belong together with others who live just ten strides from the lecture hall. Unfortunately, you cannot claim you're not in Moi because there's no fence in the campus to prove your argument.
Definitely, residents of this place are ever late for class. Not that they don't wake up early, far from that. They actually wake up earlier than any other person in the school thanks to the crowing of cocks and lowing of cows from neighbours, I mean
villagers.
They do this to avoid the 'Electricity Rush Hour'. That's what they call it there. You have to wake up earlier than the others so that your coil can at least hit a faint orange colour (the two phase circuit does not allow red) for you to have a meal ready. 'Rush Hour' can only be avoided by either waking up early or waiting until everyone else is asleep. During any other time, you can just test the heat of the coil by literally sitting on it!
When he gets a ‘Mbos‘ in Hostel K, many are the times he is mistaken for a worker. Who is this student who wears gumboots and parks a bicycle outside the hostel? Some actually beg assistance from him;'... haki utanitengenezea stima lini...?'
At the Students’ Centre, where he rests (not idles) after the two-kilometre walk to school, one can’t help but wonder about his soiled shoes. What else do you expect of someone who involuntary swam in mud while coming to class?
However s/he has the strongest bones, thanks to the hard water from the wells. Still, there’s no need for a gym to keep fit. The manual water-lifts serve him better, free, naturally and spontaneously. While using this water though, serious caution has to be taken to avoid ingesting filth from the confined hole. Extra soap to is needed to fight the hardness during laundry.
Those in the diaspora are always prayerful, that Pita Mashoka, that Master’s student who majors in Cranial Remoulding, dies before his graduation. He is a brute whose Fourth Year research project caused so much havoc that no one can ever wish to see his Master’s thesis.
So, next time, laugh not when you find a lady who is more muscular than you!
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