Sally was just in her first year in the University so full of blood and energy, she was living the life of an average campus girl and had the best relationship of her life. She kept talking loud of her Third year boyfriend who was away on attachment. Her pregnancy with her prince charming was something she was never shy nor ashamed of telling anyone that mattered to her. Despite her young age to be heavy with a kid she was the envy of most older campus ladies, we could easily tell that from the way most of them talked of and viewed her.

Just a matter of weeks and she would be welcoming her bundle of joy, talks already rented the air, fellow ladies were becoming very scornful. ” Ye ni fresher tu na ashashika ball hata hana aibu kata zaa kachoke hii shule.” Some even said worse that my keyboard could not easily find. Sally’s first destination with her baby was a Facebook post and being friends there my timeline was full with feeds from her post. An online spat was already brewing, Sally had just received a vicious attack from a Facebook user, apparently a bitter man who accused her of deviating from her purpose in school and instead was offering her fruit and flesh to men everywhere in campus, he even offered a free advice saying that if she wouldn’t restrain then she would give birth like a dog before graduating from college.

Is it “too” wrong to have a baby at a young age? I was left wondering. Sally’s joy was now reduced to sobs and tears, attacks flied from every corner, from both ladies and men. Sally was not online anymore.

She was accused of sleeping around with men and being careless in the act, the mockery was so loud and disturbing. A user was offering to pay for her family planning education and charges for adoption accompanied by a full HIV self test kit. The beauty of being a young mother was being demonized openly, the suffering they undergo from their peers was now public and stigmatization wasn’t left out.

The joy of a stable relationship that led to the beauty of a young motherhood was now just a fairy tale, the same men and ladies that chase around for sexual pleasures are now the loudest critics of the young mothers. They mostly view them as sexually insatiable girls without dignity that jump from one to another without caring what might come from there randy sexual escapades.

There is beauty in being a young mother,

I would choose to respect a young mother instead of a sassy abortion expert, Let us support our peer young mothers, even though everything has its own time but in any case an accident happens then we should brace to plant love for the strong and brave young ladies who do not fear gaining weight and having stretchmarks on their bodies.

The political storm has blown in this country for almost a year, since the shift of election dates to the dark month of August, politics has constantly been dragging the economy of this country down to its knees with almost a whole year of campaigns barricading any prospects of a bettering situations in the country.

On the other hand the Kenyan mainstream media has played the most insignificant role where independence, freedom and impartiality could be called for. Rumor peddling, bedding with politicians of the regime and openly intimidating opposing politicians has characterized the three main local media houses.

To begin with who said the ruling party should always be featured first in news stories during campaign periods, what happened to turn taking, I thought if it was the ruling party today then the next day it would be the opposition tomorrow. The media has become an essential PR tool for politicians as one could see taxpayers money funding over two minute government adverts that were meant to campaign for certain presidential candidates.

Character assassination, it is so painful when a media house is used to target individuals especially when the allegations are out of malice. a whole page is focused on peddling baseless allegations that emanate from a private citizen who is openly aligned to a certain political divide just to satisfy the needs of a master who uses his spanner boys to get trash out. How much did the full page story earn by the way?

Divisive coverage, who tells media houses what to do, who to cover or not, which story should make it on air and which one shouldn’t. When the opposition met a rare resistance in Baringo County i read headlines for two days, just recently there two incidences in Narok, Vihiga and Machakos counties where the regime met furious oppositions and were even forced to flee with their journalists but who paid the gatekeepers so that this could never make it out. Who demanded that the opposition be given a quarter the time the regime is given, who said the opposition doesn’t say positive things to their crowds and the regime doesn’t say nasty things to their crowd???

The mainstream media has been painted dark by the regime and does not even need to call for media freedom and rights, I also know that in Africa you don’t bite the hand that feeds you but an urgent celibacy is required between the media and politics unless they wish to see social media grow to be the new home of credibility and fake as well.

Con artist come in various types and different ways but this one was so out of the world. Something that I least expected for this lady whom I served my last dish of pity.

I was this village boy who grew up in a community where sharing and helping the needy was a highly upheld value. We believed in sharing and helping the less fortunate but little did I know that was only reserved for the homestead lifestyle of the village not the hungry streets of Eldoret town.

The campus boost, HELB, had just arrived and so I rushed to Eldoret town to buy myself some items I really wished to own as an average student, first priority being a sub-woofer.

I alighted from one of the MU 84 SACCO trucks and decided to inform myself of some of the buildings obviously through reading now that asking people was said to be so dangerous. A stroll down the streets I came to a whole lane of pavement of these half genuine half masquerading needy people with cups and tins asking for money.

I really wanted to assume them but I had money in my pocket, you know the itch. They have a way of smelling new comers in the town and this woman just smelled the village in me and did her thing in a more exaggerated pitiful way that I found myself putting my hands inside my pocket to give her something little. I only had one thousand shillings notes in my pocket but her tin had approximately eight hundred shillings so giving her two hundred shillings was not so hard for me since there was ready balance for me.

Her well hidden arms looked like they were amputated or I was just blinded by pity. Things happened so fast as I put my one thousand shillings note in her tin and dug deep to take my balance I heard a loud scream and the shouts of ‘mwizi mwizi’ and in a jiffy I was surrounded by gangs of ‘needy’ people and street children…I was literally dead.

I dont really remember what really happened after that but I woke up at Moi Referral somewhere between the wards and the morgue on a stretcher…with no pockets I guess they were torn apart in the struggle.

My helping hands were cut short no matter the situation one is in and I came to believe good samaritans still exist out of Samaria.

I got to University and met it up with its several severe challenges in the early formative years but since I got to my third year a monster of fear has been eating up my dreams and I keep asking myself what will happen after the degree now that landing jobs is not guaranteed.
 I go to bed everyday worried and wake up every morning with a fresh worry. I keep thinking of sleeping on my degree and waking up on it every morning hitting the road with my certificates in an envelope knocking doors seekin employment and repeating that day to day.

My loving girlfriend promised to move in with me after my final year of campus but I am an empty pocketed young man with only a degree for self defense. That puts me in a position where I cannot be the head of a family and it challenges me to self establishment.

Since I will be living with my girlfriend, skipping meals is ruled out and I have to start recognising special days like birthdays, valentines, babyshowers for her friends, relationship annivessaries… I will need money to pay rent and food, bills and extra services so without a job its only self establishment that can help me in this dilemma.

Burying my degree under my suitcase and starting side hustles becomes a reality. I will be forced to establish my self in low capital businesses like M-pesa, selling mitumba, or a snacks cafe to live up with the growing demands of being a young man.

Most likely fights with my girlfriend due to frustrations are expected and only true love will keep her there. The landlord struggle that I only heard from WhatsApp groups becomes now a menace and accidents occur my girlfriend gets a baby bum and thats how poverty with degree occurs.

I advice all of my peers to invest elsewhere at this early age and view degree as a second option. Sometimes life take an unexpected course that only the strong and prepared endure.

Keep reading…I appreciate.

Growing up,there are certain things and fears that were instilled in us by either our parents or elder people and we grew up believing they were true and some of us relate to them upto date…

The red vehicles… I grew up at a time when child abductions and sacrificing was rising. They were believed to be a sect of devil worshippers abducting children and sacrificing them for blood…some of us still have the red car phobia.

Swelling of the eyes… This originated from a myth that if you were eating near either a cat or a dog and ended up finishing the food without sharing a piece with the pet then your eyes would definitely swell…it at times seemed to work but I cant relate how.

Swallowing small stones… This was the most corny ways of avoiding punishments. You were supposed to swallow a small stone and then knot some grass and place it where your parent would pass and sure step on it…I cant understand how it affected the parents’ moods but am sure cheeky kids may have issues with their appendices.

Ear rashes and wounds…This skin condition that eats the ears of children mostly at the age of five years was attached to eating food in little bits until it was over. Some people were just super slow with their foods but still ended up finishing it so this was so related with mandazis.

Picking coins after falling…for those who kept falling down they had dreams of getting rich at an earlier age since everytime they were told they would pick a coin from the places they fell so there was no need to cry…some of us even fell intentionally and searched for days but no coins.

Snakes for bed-wetters…this was so common…Those who wet there beds would have a snake tied around their waists so that it would bite them when they wet their beds…The funniest part was the snakes were dead.

There are so many u can comment where you relate or add what i left out and share…

Campus freedom woke a beast in me that scheduled life back at home and in highschool would never let me realize existed. On my first semester as a free student i knew nothing about fame,  bottles and beautiful women but thanks to my highschool friend Ortiz who lived in Nairobi, we formed a clique where i was the only rural based member.
Learning from pros made me gain faster than usual I loved seeing how Assh could swirl thick smoke from weed given that she was the only chiq in the cliq. I wanted to do just exactly that i was so obsessed.

I was addicted to the fame I started getting, I wanted to be called every trending name and could borrow clothes to be the new trap king of campus. We hanged out like real dons and bottles after bottle was our way of life, class was just an if possible option.

I started getting randy sleepovers and exchanging ladies as if they were the only things that held my breath. I got skinny due to drug and sex addiction and minimal eating but in me i was just a cool kid who kept the uptown swag high. Who was there to direct me when everyone in my world stayed drunk and high.

Its six and a half years since i came here and after a series of supplementaries and resits I am finally writing this crying for wasting my productive youth after seeing one of my first year classmates parking my dream car infront of the schools club… Oooh damn!  he is already a sponsor and where the hell is Ortiz…Fuck!  his dad was filthy rich and Assh had rested in peace. I cant rewrite my story but am packing my shit in my….