I was on my way to the finance office, navigating the bustling corridors of the office building, when I saw her. She stood in the elevator, a vision of confidence in a tight maroon dress that accentuated her curves, particularly highlighting the subtle sway of her hourglass figure. Her choice of attire was not lost on me; the dress seemed to hug every curve, and the color complemented the natural grace she exuded. As the elevator doors began to close, I quickened my pace, determined to catch a glimpse before the doors sealed my view. The glass stilettos she wore added an extra layer of allure to her ensemble, creating a symphony of elegance and confidence. "There's just something about women in heels," I mused to myself, momentarily captivated by the way they seemed to elevate not only her stature but also the air of mystery that surrounded her. As I approached, she turned, her gaze meeting mine. The sudden connection caught me off guard, and I uttered something I would later berate myself for.
"Those pears are definitely your best feature," I blurted out, gesturing awkwardly towards the earrings that dangled delicately from her ears.
Her eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of shock crossing her features. I cringed inwardly, realizing the absurdity of my comment. Before I could rectify the situation, embarrassment flashed across her face, and the doors shut, leaving me with the residue of my ill-timed remark hanging in the air.
Zara, on a mission to find Maya, traversed the bustling corridors of the office building, heading towards the medical lab. She needed her friend's company and a confidant she could share her emotions with. The medical lab, conveniently located in the same building as the finance offices, was a place where Zara hoped to find solace. As she approached the medical lab, she noticed a familiar figure in the distance. A pang of curiosity struck her, drawing her closer to investigate. From a safe distance, she observed Nigel, standing in the elevator and seemingly captivated by someone inside. Without intending to intrude, Zara inadvertently witnessed Nigel's ill-timed compliment to the woman in the elevator. The awkward exchange played out before her, and she couldn't help but sense the embarrassment in the air. However, her emotions took an unexpected turn. As Nigel's encounter unfolded, tears welled up in Zara's eyes. The sight of him expressing admiration for someone else, coupled with her own emotional turmoil, overwhelmed her. Heartache and loneliness seemed to consume her, and without realizing it, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Fighting back the emotions, Zara turned around and hurriedly made her way to the stairs. She needed to escape the scene, to find a private space to collect herself. The echo of Nigel's words lingered in her mind, intensifying the ache in her heart. The stairs offered a refuge where she could conceal her tears, at least temporarily, as she grappled with the unexpected surge of emotions brought on by the unintentional revelation of Nigel's admiration for another.
The coolness of the stairwell provided a stark contrast to the emotions swirling within Zara. As she descended the steps, each one seemed to echo the rhythm of her heartbeat. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, determined to compose herself before meeting Maya. Reaching the ground floor, Zara glanced around, ensuring no one witnessed her vulnerable moment. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the heartache that threatened to consume her. The aroma of coffee wafted through the air, a reminder of the comforting ritual she and Maya shared. Turning the corner, she found the entrance to the medical lab. The door swung open, and Zara entered, hoping to find solace in the familiar presence of her friend. Maya, engrossed in her work, looked up as Zara approached.
"Hey," Zara greeted, forcing a smile to mask the lingering pain. Maya sensed something amiss, her eyes narrowing with concern.
"What's wrong, Zara?" Zara hesitated for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air.
"Can we go for coffee? I need a friend right now." Maya nodded understandingly, gathering her belongings.
As they left the medical lab and headed towards the coffee shop, Zara couldn't shake off the image of Nigel's admiration. The echoes of his words reverberated in her mind, a reminder of a connection that seemed to slip away. Over coffee, in the comforting ambiance of the café, Zara poured her heart out to Maya. Her voice quivered as she shared the raw pain of Nigel's sudden breakup, the callousness with which he seemed to move on, now harboring a crush on a lecturer barely a day after their separation. Maya listened intently, offering a supportive presence as Zara navigated the turbulent emotions of heartbreak, betrayal, and the harsh reality of seeing someone she loved so callously replace her. In the solace of their conversation, Maya became the confidante Zara desperately needed, a friend who understood the complexities of love, the sting of betrayal, and the delicate threads that bind hearts.
As the tedious process of confirming my fee status unfolded, the passage of time seemed to stretch. The delays from the Higher Education Loaning Board (HELB) added a layer of frustration to the already time-consuming task. Nevertheless, I persevered, determined to complete the bureaucratic hurdles that stood between me and the continuation of my education. While immersed in the administrative labyrinth, two male lecturers entered the finance office, their conversation drawing my attention. The topic? Natalie, the lecturer from the elevator. The audacity of these lecturers to gossip about her, particularly in such a casual and disrespectful manner, irked me.
"Dora loves to gossip," the bald-headed lecturer asserted dismissively.
His companion, however, seemed insistent. "Come on, are you seriously going to deny the fact Natalie recently started cementing makeup on her face to cover those bruises?"
Their laughter echoed through the room, a disconcerting symphony that left me seething with indignation. The casual manner in which they discussed the possibility of Natalie being a victim of domestic violence fueled my anger.
"If she had said yes to my proposal, she would be living like a queen right now," the bald lecturer added, punctuating the statement with a smug click at the end.
The callousness of their remarks lingered as they exited the finance office, leaving me grappling with frustration. As I left the office, the thought of Lecturer Natalie remained with me. I pondered on how I could capture her attention and be her knight and shining armor.
The campus was abuzz with the usual activities; students rushing to classes, the distant chatter of group discussions, and the rustle of leaves as the wind played with the branches. Leila stepped into the university campus, her gaze wide, capturing the eclectic energy and varied stories that whispered from every nook. Clad in a green cardigan and faded jeans, she felt a curious blend of excitement and trepidation, like a character poised at the beginning of a dramatic plotline. Unfamiliar faces wove the fabric of this space, mingling with each other, holding secrets she yearned to unfold. As she traversed the pathways, she observed the churning cauldron of emotions in the campus atmosphere. The chaos of freshers finding their footing, the seasoned seniors orchestrating their well-practiced roles, and the clandestine interactions that painted the unseen layers of truth. A swirl of emotions resided in the air; a symphony of youthful exuberance mixed with concealed vulnerabilities. However, within this bustling scene, Leila felt like an inconspicuous presence. Her demeanor was unassuming, a shield of introversion masking her from the extroverted energy that adorned the walls. Despite her seemingly quiet exterior, she was an astute observer, absorbing the tales embedded in the whispers, the laughs, and the unspoken truths that wafted in the wind.
In the dawn of a new academic year, the university mess bustled with anticipation, teeming with eager freshers in anticipation of their first mundane yet essential meals. However, the initial fervor was fleeting; the buzz would dwindle within a mere couple of months, leaving the once-crowded space eerily desolate. Amidst this transient commotion were the watchful eyes of the Mafisi, senior students with a reputation for preying on the novices, their primal instincts poised for a chance to claim new conquests. This sordid nickname encompassed both male and female seniors who sought to taste the fresh innocence of the newcomers. Contrasting these prowlers were the fervent church leaders, striving to sway the impressionable minds of the rookies. Their earnest attempts involved encouraging attendance at the evening masses, aiming to draw the new members into the fold of religious activities. This dichotomy of intentions, one pursuing carnal pursuit, the other spiritual nourishment, set the tone for the divergent paths the incoming students might tread.
Leila navigated through the bustling crowd of freshers gathered in the mess, the atmosphere humming with the energy of new beginnings. The clatter of trays and the chatter of excited voices filled the air as students waited for their cheap, albeit tasteless, meals. Gone were the days of teachers on duty organizing queues like in high school. University life operated on a different set of rules, primarily centered around maturity. Amid the lively crowd, a circle of girls laughed and giggled, their antics designed to attract attention. At the center of it all stood a petite figure in huge black T-shirt and sweatpants, completely absorbed in the world of her music, courtesy of her iPod. The rhythmic beats traveled through the wires of her earphones, creating a personal bubble of tranquility amidst the chaotic surroundings. A small silver pendant dangled from her necklace, catching glimmers of light as she bobbed her head in rhythm with the music. Unbeknownst to her, this small accessory held sentimental value, a cherished reminder of a past chapter in her life, tucked away like a secret treasure beneath the fabric of her oversized T-shirt. The melodies that played were not merely sounds; they were a soundtrack to her own unfolding narrative, a melody of memories and dreams that danced in her mind while the world around her buzzed with its own symphony.
The clock struck four in the afternoon, heralding the much-anticipated basketball game. As I prepared, geared up for the showdown against KMTC (Kenya Medical Training College) of Murang'a, my friend Jayden paid me a visit. He was like a brother, "mtu wangu," during our high school days, and we fondly recalled the mischief we used to get into. I was pleased to learn that he had transferred here for his third-year studies, and it felt great to reconnect. Hopefully, he'll consider joining the basketball team soon. He was like family back in high school and the mischievousness we got involved in. I was glad he transferred here for his third-year studies; it was good to see him again. Today was about asserting dominance, teaching those kids a lesson in real athleticism. The game began with a warm-up, the anticipation of the coveted victory simmering in our veins. Every time I scored, my eyes darted across the crowd, seeking her in the audience. But she had chosen not to show up. Conflicted emotions swirled within me; should I feel upset or just resigned, considering I was the one who ended things with Zara?
During the second quarter, the game escalated into chaos as a scuffle erupted when an opponent deliberately struck Noah, triggering a commotion. The coach intervened; a rematch scheduled for the next weekend. Amidst the chaos, Beatrix's invisible gaze felt like an uncomfortable spotlight. She was persistent, a reminder that I still needed her connections for certain social events, and my lack of resolve only fueled her persistence. Distracting the guys with their phones, I slipped away unnoticed from the court, leaving them absorbed in their own post-game bravado, not realizing my departure. Code, the unassuming member, had an unspoken intensity that unnerved even me. I collided with someone in my path, causing my phone to clatter to the ground, revealing a slight crack. As I bent to retrieve it, a petite woman swiftly picked it up.
"Nigel!" she exclaimed with a smile.
"Do I know… wait, Quiny?"
She nodded, and we shared a quick hug. Unfortunately, the guys from the court noticed and began cheering for no apparent reason. Those rowdy characters! I had not seen Quiny since she was a kid, and, without being judgmental, she was still, well, tiny.
"How's Lana doing?" I inquired. "Well, she's better than ever since you guys broke up," she replied with a playful smirk.
We laughed it off, and I accompanied her back to her dormitory. Most freshers were accommodated in the university dorms before finding housing elsewhere.
Murang'a University was renowned for hosting a spectacular freshers' welcome party. The night promised to be an extravaganza, even though drugs were strictly prohibited on campus. Of course, rules were meant to be broken, and that night was no exception. The popular band "Boondocks" was set to perform, an event not to be missed. Comrades had already gathered on the premises by three o'clock in the afternoon. The spacious field was artfully decorated, a stage primed for the night's entertainment. Meanwhile, Quiny was still mulling over whether to attend or stay in and watch movies.
"Quiny, why aren't you dressed yet?" Rose asked, arranging her makeup box on the table.
"I'm not sure if I want to go..."
"Come on, just relax," Ana chimed in, experimenting with different mini-skirts.
"I don't think you should go, people will just be sinning," Tabitha commented, settling into her bed, ready to sleep.
Ana and Rose burst into an annoying laughter, relishing ganging up against Tabitha, who they teased as a wannabe Holy Mary. Quiny, seated atop her bunk bed, watched her roommates, contemplating whether she should attend the upcoming event. Finally, she decided to consult her Tinder boyfriend, Silencer, seeking his opinion. They'd been dating online for nearly three years, a relationship built on an odd sort of trust. He'd never shared a picture, though Quiny had made the mistake of sending nudes. Despite a few breakups and squabbles, Silencer never stooped to insults or belittlement. Staring at the text Silencer sent, advising her to go, Quiny felt a pang of disappointment. She secretly wished he'd said no, just to start a playful argument. Sometimes, she'd initiate conflicts for fun and to tease him, just to see how he'd respond. Eventually, the trio of ladies left their room, with two of them dressed provocatively, while Quiny settled on her simple hoodie.
The Boondocks band had arrived, and the party was already in full swing. Couples were kissing, boyfriends persuading their freshman girlfriends to spend the night, and Rose and Ana had their eyes set on two basketball players. Quiny followed along, but as she scanned the crowd, she saw him—standing under the moonlight, wearing the exact same hoodie she had on. Tall, dark, with a medium beard, his eyes sparkled as he gazed at her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Hi," Ana and Rose said together, giggling. He reached out to greet Quiny. The moment their hands met, an electric thrill shot through her fingers, a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. His hands, rough yet gentle, held her delicately, as if afraid of causing any harm. She noticed his lingering gaze, and for a moment, she prayed that he was interested. "How about I show you around, beautiful?" Rose's crush suggested. She declined the offer to join the others and found solace in the company of Code, her new crush. They stood together on a high cemented floor, watching the performers in the distance. A sudden burst of fireworks startled Quiny, sending her heart racing. Fear gripped her as it reminded her of the dark and she felt the urge to flee, her legs growing weak. Gasping for air, she found herself struggling, her breath caught in her throat. In a surprising twist, Code was prepared for the panic, offering her an inhaler and gently lifting her off her feet. As she was carried away, feeling exposed, she sought refuge in his hoodie, finding comfort in the scent of downy that enveloped her. Listening to his heartbeat, she felt a strange sense of ease. As they stopped, he carefully seated her in a chair within the social hall, where she discovered it was just the two of them.
"Are you okay?" His tone was tinged with concern as he lightly touched the back of her hand.
Recoiling, she withdrew her hands, tucking them safely within her hoodie pocket. He swallowed hard, a visible gulp, breaking the silence. He stood before her, an awkward tension filling the space. She wanted to leave but felt an unusual tug to remain close to him. Just as she was about to speak, two inebriated female students stumbled in.
"Baby, where were you?" one, her legs wobbly in heels, called out.
Code swiftly moved to assist the inebriated students.
"Would you like me to walk you home?" he turned back to ask Quiny. She was almost going to say yes when she spotted her friend Ben. Leaving Code to assist the ladies, she hurried over to Ben.