CU Fun Day
Who said being Christian cannot be
cool?
“She tripped and fell. The
pressure behind was stifling and air was limited. I fell on her. It was not my
fault. I dusted and went on but not before lifting her. By this time the queues
were distorted and casualties were littered everywhere.
BY
MUSYOKA NGUI
Tembea na Yesu
Kimbia na Yesu
Lala na Yesu*3
This song greeted me as I entered Mungoni
Retreat Centre. I was flanked by my friends. It was my maiden hideout of that
nature and you can expect several surprises.
What started as an escape from monotony of
reading held much more in store yesterday for us. The event was supposed to
start at 8 am and end at 1pm. Trust Kenyans to arrive late. But I guess it was
because of the large numbers involved. A whole 500 faithfuls had subscribed for
the retreat. Each paid KES. 20 to earn a yellow, blue, pink and white fun card.
Simple math says the contribution was KES. 10,000. On top of that only 300
turned up. The savings were immense.
I am told by a religious attendee friend that
last time they ate only biscuits and juice. He expected more this time round.
No wonder when he received a bowl of rice, mango slices, ndengu and giant
potato he smiled and quipped, “maendeleo haya.”
In the morning the sun shone as if it had a
grudge against us. As expected the fun had to go on. Firstly, the gamers were
called forward to air their expectations. Some said they wanted to lose weight,
others to evangelize, most eat, dance and make friends. One said she wanted
more people to show up and fill the field.
Forget about the formal and boring schedule.
The best action took place behind the scenes. On the sidelines not the front
podium and table. Without much ado I take you there.
I landed a yellow card. For some strange
reasons the MC kept spreading propaganda that it was the winning combination
(Team Yellow)-which eventually did. What with ranks swelling with Kalenjins-the
stereotype was reinforced. Then the Luos cheered giniwasekao. Soon we took the
cue and joined the chorus. When I went to acquire my card I found friends
scheming to manipulate either card colour or card number outcomes so that they
end up in the same play groups with their friends since the card colours and
numbers were the criteria. How that escaped the attention of the MC cum the mobiliser
beats me given her experience in public organization. Remember she is our boss
and I will tread carefully not to antagonize myself with the boss lest I get
black listed on receiving class cancellation, class fixing and other impromptu
time table changes. That is Su for you.
There was no official wear. I cared less. I
speak for many men out there. They don’t give a damn about dressing. The
cardinal rule is as long as it is clean it is wearable. But I got free tips
from the descendants of Eve. They were careful to carry water on customized
bottles, wear caps, rubber shoes and did fairly good dressing on their tropics.
You see men have no qualms donning a jean, short, vest and some T-Shirt with
funny writings but ladies stand before the mirror and wardrobe for eternity
contemplating about colour combination, makeup and other nitty gritties which
justify the fake “You look great” comment and an unforgivable mental note from
a friend who never seem to see and know leave alone appreciate that she did her
hair just for his attention.
Some brothers are really clueless. Sisters
took a swipe at them for not differentiating artificial hair from natural one,
wearing creased clothes, torn socks and having Safaricom wallets. Seriously! In
21st century?
However, that is not to say girls do not get
it wrong. Some do it big time. How on earth can anyone hit the pitch on a
funnel shaped skirt. The type worn by Scottish men. And with nothing inside. And they expect the
visual Adams to look the other way when the MC orders those taxing gymnastic
commands expecting a military discipline. It happened to me once today. For
some unfortunate coincidence I was caught flat footed by the mingle mingle
song. The type you are told to concentrate and keep our attention to the rhythm
of the game. Like a lottery ticket, I landed a well blessed second half. The
instruction was we face backs. We did. We clasp hands from behind. We did. Then
shameless Su dropped the bombshell. “Carry her to the other goal post and
return.”
Ai! I wished for a wheelbarrow. As that
unfolded I could see men falling out of race for fear of weight or the tempting
contact. It was a ‘slimpossible’ case.
Those who braved the pressure did not last
long. Sweat beads dropped profusely from their foreheads, armpits and back.
Others fell and sustained injuries. Lucky are those who lifted 1GBs.
Sack race was marred by gross irregularities.
Someone ripped the bottom in order to walk. I could not believe it was
happening but it actually did. Rivals raised serious concerns but were shut
down with the now infamous catch phrase of accept and move on. Yellow team
accumulated points. I could not complain. After all who was I to?
Relays were fast and furious. Two boys and
two girls from each team battled it out. The batons were exchanged. We crossed
fingers. We cheered. Unfortunately our team lost to blue. Mortal threats were hurled.
Ukishindwa usirudi hapa! The opposite was unfolding on blue team. They carried
their champions shoulder high and mocked us. Never mind they are one hit
wonders savouring a comeback.
The most gruelling game selected 20
participants from each of the four teams. They lined up. The instructions were:
bend over, pass your left hand between your thighs and grab the other fellow behind
who is bent in a similar posture. On your front hold the next person’s right
hand with your left. The chain reared to go. As soon as the train was flagged
off I lost grip of the fellow behind. The one in front fell. I jumped over him.
The next was a she. She tripped and fell. The pressure behind was stifling and
air was limited. I fell on her. It was not my fault. I dusted and went on but
not before lifting her. By this time the queues were distorted and casualties
were littered everywhere. I bruised my knee and ankle.
Others who graced the event were CU top guns
and FOCUS staff Ronald Mumo and one Kamau( a White guy on exchange programme).
In the afternoon it rained. Blessings. No
more dust.
The writer studies Bachelors of Arts Degree in
Communication and Media at Chuka University. He blogs at
musyokangui.blogspot.com
Email your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com
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