A weekend in Eldoret

A hell trip to Eldoret
“Haki woyee,naskia kususu.” There is something mildly annoying, if mischievous, when a 21-year old female student shouts over the din in a bus, three quarters full of men. Men contort their faces in discomfort. Luckily, she was the prettiest thing in the bus and she could be forgiven. She had the swag of a beautiful woman who knew she had it. Earlier on, two men nearly fought over. None between them dates her or has ever even tried.

And she was in a grey revealing biker fully of erotic promise.
As she sauntered out of the bus into the bush to relieve herself, all men gave her that lustful look and I’m sure many for a moment would have given their arms to see her relieve herself(OK, forgive the exaggeration.).
To me, this was like the highlight of the whole trip. The rest was something that I’m about to narrate here, but we need to get a few things straight, shall we?
I’m going to Eldoret as a student official being given a courtesy invite to another student organization. That is Nairobi University Students Arts Association (NUARSA) that I’m representing having been elected officially to be the chairman on Friday. I’m with the Economic Student Association (ECOSA) down to Eldie for friendly sports competition. More importantly, I’m supposed to cover this story for their publication (The Student Economist) that I’m editing for them and will be out in due course.
With the promise of the allowance in mind, a long boring weekend ahead of me and the excitement of making it for it to Eldie for the first time, I was doubly anxious for the trip that I had helped initiate a couple of days ago.
Everything was going down well to plan until my closest buddie Bony decided too that he must go as well. Bony is young energetic brain, brilliant, ambitious and stupid. If he decides to behave badly, boy nothing can stop him. On this trip, he had just decided that. And he ruined the whole trip that second year economics students have lost any credibility they might have entrusted him with. To this we shall return.
My weekend began on Friday, a few minutes before four. At that point, the votes were being tallied after our peaceful and orderly elections in ED I and my opponent was fairing on in a manner, I didn’t appreciate. Within an hour, I emerged the winner and I was in a celebratory mood.
After that, I had to get some operational cash for the trip to North Rift. At exactly 10.00 pm, I left the room of my heretic pal PO whom I had dropped to check on for a chat to kill time. Getting to the transport section, there were already a handful eager students impatiently waiting for the bus to take of.
As usual, the skirmishes that normally precede such trip were already unfolding among the usual suspects. For those who don’t know, clue: From people with names that mostly begin with O. Second years had tried to say something to the effects that third years were behaving badly and should not go on the trip and were whipped terribly to their utter disbelief. At least they knew they were dealing with a different set of people. We were only four third years and two were already running the show to the chagrin of the second years.
They cried. They wept. They cursed our origin, but apparently, no third year gave a damn. So we ended up killing their trip literary. On my part, I’m a bit reserved and a firm believer of self respect. It is earned and I couldn’t sell it any cheaper. Only fools do so. You can only afford such shenanigans among your peers.
Anyway, on getting to Eldoret we discovered that everything is named after Moi. Moi Preparatory School, Moi, University, Moi Computer Colleges, Moi Shoe Shiners, Moi MPESA, Moi County council toilets. Any business establishment or educational institutions was named after Moi. It is quite understandable.
Our breakfast was a one grisly affair. Surely, when will the Kalenjins learn how to cook properly? The last time I nearly died out of food poisoning was at Chepkunyuk, upon Koru Highlands. That is the place I ate the worst possible meal of half cooked native eggs, cooked with unripe tomatoes and not-so-ready-for-cooking onion stems. The Ugali was one nasty affair that it took the help of swallowing unripe maperas to wade of the vomiting feeling that was emerging.
This time around we were having some toast mayai and they delivered half cooked eggs(may be someone should consider training the Kalenjin on how to cook eggs.)
We proceeded to Moi University where I met my cool cousin, Duke whom I hang out with for sometime before going back to cheer my team. The mood was genial and the hospitality of Moi University student was beyond measure. Second to none. May be our confidence bordered on irritation but generally they were good friends. I hope when they will turn up, we shall return back the favour.
In the evening, being hungry like hell, we turned into some ramshackle where we ordered some beef and ugali to contain the hunger. The beef looked right but was prepared in a mundane way. Just too much cooking fat, haria( reads like hara), I could hardly believe that guys still use that substance. It evokes the worst memories in the 1990s when we were in a primary boarding school.
I was in no mood of alcohol, and tired like an overused sack, hence I had to get some lodging and claim some good sleep. Quite absurd that there were no lodgings nearby and we were directed to a place called Kesses to a place called Octopus; how apt a name for a lodge. I have much overplayed expectations but much to my chagrin when we get there, we meet a live band performing right next to the lodging, and our overzealous guide had presumed that we can make it with the din.
This cheap convenient venture, proved costly and we opted to go to town. After confirming with two or three lodging, we an affordable one where we lodge into a double with my colleague as a female friend gets into a single. One lengthy hot shower solves my myriad problems and I sleep like a baby, even though the spring bed was a bit 1977 July.
Our Journey back saw us search for petrol in virtually all gas stations and none seems to be stocking enough fuel for guzzlers like our bus.
The trip back belonged to Bony who can never really appreciate the power credibility and reputation. Reputation is like virginity. It is something you lose only but once. I’m sure second years will find it extremely hard to ever trust him. And to think he holds such esteemed positions in a number of distinguished ventures, tho tho tho tho tho


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