Immortal legacy of my professors beyond campus
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| My lecturer Dr. Samson Raiji and I. He is a media and public relations don. |
By MUSYOKA NGUI
It was the last act in a
journey that started four years ago thirteen days today. The graduation, having
been postponed indefinitely, threw preparations into disarray. Comrades who
were updating statuses with academic invites fizzled out just as a flat drink
does. Just like that an ad was placed on national dailies and university
website.
The frustration exposed
the fatigue and weariness of job hunters and creators who expressed displeasure
in missed opportunities. Others said were it not for the graduation they would
have been employed long ago. More even attributed their broke pockets to the
delayed graduation. As if sleaze and thievery had not descended on top echelons
of the government making opportunities only reserved for cronies, clans and
cliques.
Fast forward, having
been granted the power to read after two long holidays (combined six months) I
know the value of friendships. A lecturer used to tell us the only true best
friends we will ever have are from campus. Perhaps it is because we have so
much in common hence the understanding.
Uplifting and unsung
stories abound. The journalism club we started is still going strong. Joseph
tells me they had to change leadership. The ones we left in place did not work.
Neighbours considered noise our mock radio. Marto the Technician readily gave
us keys to fetch the speakers, mics, mixers and cables. That is when I realized
Kalung’e had a beautiful radio voice that should have been in our leading
airwaves like from second year. Yet we were there struggling to operationalise
an unused frequency, stock media lab and manage blogs for the victims of
writing bugs. It bit me and like a malignant cancer I passed the pen to
the club.
These days I don’t hear
much about Theatre and Arts Club. The flamboyant T1 cast who begged the county
council of Chuka to lend them a stage in their Town Hall and the mayor flatly
refused as if it was his mother’s?
It is as if when we left with some of the most prized possessions of the prophetic university.
While working in Meru for County Review I was told I will not return to
graduate with the only Faculty of Arts and Humanities Dean I know: Dr. George
Ngugi King’ara. I did not accept or move on when he left for KU without
witnessing the class he taught every lecturer punctually and without fail.
Just midway through
campus Ms. Rose Nyakio Kimani secured a scholarship to Germany. She stole a visit and
as soon as word went round she was around mobs of media students curiously
crowded her corridors to say hi and know when she will be returning to teach
them. She taught History of Mass Communication, Radio, Microphones and she was
the one who exceptionally listened to every student talk. She did not interrupt
whether your idea was silly or sharp. Maybe she will be back.
Now that you know my
earlier campus lecturers, the other trio were (are) Raiji, Papa(Nabea) and Ms. Ann.
Though I spent most of my time in college disagreeing with Raiji and openly
differing with him, we kissed and made up after attachment. His news writing emphasis
came out clearly and although he never showed up for my KNA assessment, he paid
for our drinks and rode us back to hostels in his car after what came to be known as Last
Supper at Hotel Godka. He still is a friend I consult on media matters. Real
issues and man talk.
I’d say Papa remains the
most social and firm. He was as contrasting as photojournalism photos he
taught. A gym instructor no less, Papa
nearly drowned my name by evoking stereotype when he repeatedly called me
Mutua. He made colleagues think I was from Makueni and living in Machakos. They
got it much later.
Papa, he of the famous
“if you so remember what we were working on during our last session”, is the
only lecturer who gave me a D and an A yet we remained cordial. He could have
had his own standard of measuring exams. Some of these things vindicate him
when his students shine.
Ms. Ann joined us
latter. That notwithstanding, she left a mark that marches the elders who saw
us grow from teens to beards and bulging baby bumps. The stunning beauty was a
stickler to respect. She would not talk until all chairs stop screeching. I
took it in stride when she said me and Kalung’e were fixed- minded when we did
not seem to buy her argument that digital migration had stolen fan base from
the three ugly sisters (read KTN, NTV and Citizen TV). She held that K24 and
KBC had amassed followers during the 14 days of television blackout.
Ann taught gender with
passion and I saw her fire through the gaze she shed to the girls. I would say
she was their advocate for gender equality and she embodied the far a woman can
go if she believes in herself. But right there laid the trouble. She seemed
overly feministic and radical, kinda blaming men for all that are wrong with
women. Surely is that fair? To the point of telling girls to reject a small
screen cinema that passes for laptop entertainment and demand from their boyfriends
a flick, an IMAX.
Matundura, Kobia, Mugambi, Muthengi, Mwathi, Mueni and Doreen had
brief stints. Some were part timers and
others from line departments related to media. Computer, law, Kiswahili, sociology,
psychology etc. All played their part in the Friday 13th.
I took the perspective
of teachers because it is from the view of a student you know the legacy of the
professor.
