Comrades last supper; the moments we
will cherish for ever
B
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eer has a way of sobering otherwise drunk
chaps up. It opens up the Pandora box. It is a lid that uncorks an uncanny can
of worms. Suddenly the comrades and lecturers opened up.
BY MUSYOKA NGUI
I never expected that it would be that big. The last supper
of media class was held at Godka Hotel beginning 7 pm and everyone was dressed
the part. The dinner lingerie was marching the relaxed atmosphere of the famous
hotel known for couple proposals and other confessions. It is more like the
British Queen who got engaged in a Mount Kenya hotel soon before Kenya attained
independence. She was also pronounced heir apparent thus receiving the good
news from our very own tourist destination overlooking a mountain elevated
5,199 feet above the sea level. The snow capped tip pitted against thundering
sky, lightning space and incessant rains was the perfect blessing from God that
our event was endorsed by the Highest Power.
The photo session was
spontaneous. Crowds hogged camera limelight like moths upon a lantern. Night
vision was essential to capture the whole group. But in some cases it was a
matter of luck and the more trials and shots yielded the stunning shots.
Exclusive fun.
Media class is funny and
unpredictable as Mr. Matundura kept saying “nyinyi ni watu wa ajabu sana”. They
have baffled lecturers and colleagues alike. This day was no different. The raw
talent was on display yet again. If you thought Gaza Group was only a nuisance
that sat at the back to make noise during lectures and conspired to cheat in
exams think again. Simo, Nesh, Marto, Andy, Anto are the cast that has entertained
the university fraternity with witty comedy. Today they pulled a poem that left
the class in stitches. Simo scripts in unwritten language. Anto has diversified
in emceeing and now he is venturing into fulltime acting. Goodluck bro and
team.
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| A section of comrades having a good time |
Who ever saw Chris bending on
one knee and saying those elusive four words? Will you marry me! Lily went speechless;
her dimples sinking and eyes getting wet. The crowd dared the love birds to
seal the union with a passionate smooch. Unexpectantly, they only hugged and
shook hands like business associates in a contract. The incident broke many a
heart. Jilted lovers whispered whether what was unfolding was a Mexican soap
opera or if indeed it was real. It later turned out that it was acting-much to
the relief of the disappointed secret admirers of the pair.
The speech session was
uplifting. The alumni were in the house and presented an up-close and personal testimony
of their mistakes and mileages since they graduated. They underscored the need
for patience and resilience in success. That networking is the best way to both
create and seek jobs. We were glad they
were full of humility and are still the same comrades we shared lecture halls
with as undergrads many moons ago.
Beer has a way of sobering
otherwise drunk chaps up. It opens up the Pandora box. It is a lid that uncorks
an uncanny can of worms. Suddenly the comrades and lecturers opened up. They
became themselves. Who knew Kobia was so good in ballet? He swung Fleare with
flare that left comrades cheering. The applause was deafening shouts of dares
that pulled the pair to the stage yet again to do their thing, as it were.
Fleare ruled the stage with her
coastal warmth. She attempted without success to pull lecturer Raiji to the
floor. He just sat at the high chair sipping something clear in his fancy
glasses. Time was not yet. However, Dean Dr. Ngugi surprised the crowd when he
shot to the stage for a jig. He was rolling smoothly. Break-dancing even.
Fleare was milking every moment of her 15 minutes of glorious fame. It was a
sight to behold. Cameras clicked and flicked under dazzling multicoloured
lights that revealed the other side of the comrades that has been hidden for
four years.
Papa played cool for so long. I
wondered what he was thinking about. He sat at an isolated table with a few
comrades poring through smartphones and tabs sharing photos via WhatsApp and
Bluetooth. Everything was going on well until Congolese tunes blasted the
speakers. Papa shot up and grabbed someone with a curvaceous future behind her
and raised his belt. Rhumba has a way of making the elders young again. It
presents an opportunity for them to relive their heydays once more. So papa got
an opportunity to turn back the clock to the early 90s when he was in campus.
Caribbean hits left Simo and
Anto yelling message! message! message!. They listened attentively as a patient
letting an injection sink in. Like their very lives hang on the line of Reggae.
Lecturer Raiji too succumbed to the charm of Africans in Diaspora seeking a reconnection
with their roots. The flowing dreadlocks of Jamaican hit stars lured him to the
stage. He didn’t know how and when he joined a band of dancers circling in
rounds with a fist raised in the air shouting destiny! destiny! and liberty.
Maryjones was privileged to convince
Raiji leave the high chair and cosy counter to hit the floor. She danced so
well. It was good for burning calories and loosening up after a busy semester
of about ten course units. A perfect break before end semester exams. Jones
then retreated to me and we gyrated a little before Raiji “intervened” with a
shout that I am killing her. I did not think so since Jones enjoyed-begging for
more. Same for Jennifer, Fleare , Ann and others. Even Zain.
The queen of stunts was Annmarie.
Clad in suspenders, shorts and braids, she twerked and gyrated without friction.
A marathoner of entertainment, we checked out at 4 am and left her and team
still hooked up. Raiji offered to take us home for free. He was our designated
driver. The best.
Bed, blankets and bad moods. Woke
up four hours later to prepare for debate @2pm in SGT1. See you there.
The
writer is a blogger at musyokangui.blogspot.com and a Fourth Year Communication
and Media student at Chuka University.
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| Media Centre Five L-R Ann Wanjau, Musyoka Ngui, Joyce Kabura, Terry Njuguna and Martin Wachira |
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